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Mary trudged up the steep dirt road to a well known ranch, looking to shed her overabundance of fleece. Mary is an anthro sheep with jet black skin barely visible under her white wool. She wore a loose blue skirt, a modest bikini top, and a large cloth over her head that had been soaked in water, but even that was too much for the glaring, relentless sumer sun. She had gotten away with letting her coat grow for a long while but was certainly regretting her sloth now. The horizontal pupils in her dark blue eyes scanned the horizon to see the ranch house was not too far- she had been walking along the outside of the fence for some distance already. The wool covered most of her but accumulated mostly around her wrists, ankles, neck, and of course her head- where it draped down as long fluffy ringlets. With this tortuous heat she was even willing to have her little poofy nub of a tail shaved bare. Her stomach, breasts, face, and her hands were the only places perpetually untouched by her wool. Her little hooves cut into the dirt road and made the walk harder than it needed to be.
Mary heard of this ranch some time ago, and all the other girls she knew came here regularly. Mary was terribly shy though, and avoided new places when she could help it. She used to get sheared by her boyfriend but they broke up when he was forced to move because of work, so she was left doubly wanting. When nearly at the doors a virtually bald lamb skipped happily out holding her mothers hand. Mary smiled at the youth and reassured herself this wouldn't be so bad. Then she seen two bulls arm wrestling in the field, and heard many voices in the main house and nearly froze up. This was a high traffic area! Many people came here and Mary wasn't so good at keeping up with hustle or bustle. She slowed to a stop, looking rather absently at the door into the main barn, and turned around. She could try shearing herself at home! Why not?
A small male dog quickly darted up and snatched her wrist up. "Hold there Missy! You here for a sheering? Jet is inside the barn there- he will take real good care of you! Come on, no need to be so sheepish!"
Mary looked slightly offended. "I will thank you not to use such racist terms! And, I was just passing by-"
He tilted his head quickly. "There are no buildings past here for miles."
"W-well I don't need a shearing regardless."
The dog lifted the cloth on her head and her hair raised another two and a half inches without the weight. "Your hair is like six inches thick..."
"No, that's absurd...its like five and a half."
Before she even knew it he brought her into the barn, and had dashed back out, shutting the door before she could think of a reply. Darn dogs, why do they always have to be so pushy! It was very cool inside the barn, even though the huge main doors were open to the fields. There was at least two large fans positioned behind, and pointed at a large reclined chair. Several sacks stuffed with wool stood around the area. Without thinking, Mary walked over to the chair but all the activity out on the field snapped her back to reality. She turned to leave again.
A huge thunderously low voice reverberated through the area. "Welcome to my ranch. Get comfortable in the chair, and I will have you done up right in a jiffy."
Jet entered from the main door and closed it behind him to give her privacy. His voice was so huge it felt like the sound alone shook her balance and caused Mary to fall into the chair- already having her back to it. The owner looked to be about eight feet tall at least- Mary was only four and a half and the dog was probably an even four. His muscles were so pronounced and firm they might as well have been chizzled from black marble. A black stallion of epic proportion! His mane was messy and wild, though his long flowing tail was well kept. The very end of his face was white, making his nostrils pink and sort of cute, while the rest of him was decidedly handsome. He wore a tight denim vest and blue tattered shorts that for as big as they were, still could not hide the prodigious bulge. She could see some abs between vest and shorts and it looked like you could smash open walnuts against them. His abs had a few pronounced veins toward their end, ready to feed blood to his endowments. Mary was like a deer in headlights, mesmerized by his appearance into forgetting she was going to leave only a moment before. He gave her a warm smile and nudged her back into a proper seating in the chair- her nervousness a little obvious. He spoke some reassurances to her in his huge manly voice but she had honestly zoned out and didn't actually know what he said- but was glad he kept talking. Between the comfy reclined position, the fans, and the studly view, Mary felt like she could stay here forever. Because he was so tall, to properly get at her Jetlifted Mary and the chair she sat in as if she weighed no more than a book, and rested her down on a carefully arranged stack of crates. The muscles in his arm tightened making the smooth contours of muscle shimmer in the dull barn light as he carried her, and Mary was temped to reach out and feel them.
She was too wooly for the electric razor to do a damn thing so Jet would need to make two passes, one with shears the other with the razor. He started around the hardest part, her little black leaf shaped ears. She tried her best not to twitch or flick them when they were touched- the last thing she needed was a bleeding ear! She usually wore tiny round bell earrings but left them at home in preparation on this. For being able to cover half her head with a single hand, Jet's touch was feather light, and very nimble. He was clearly well practiced. When he sheared lower, she was able to smell a slight manly musk about him, from his working under the glaring sun all day. Black held heat in longer so his shimmering hide would be dreadful to have under direct sunlight. Even his face looked sculpted, such chiseled contours, so solid. His huge nostrils took in single breaths the size of five of Mary's, and his chin dressed with feeler hairs making him look all the more manly. She felt her nethers clench at the sound of the electric razor being turned on. She moaned unintentionally when he ran it down her neck, pressed firmly to her skin. Her own shiny black skin finally exposed to open air. The razor's touch and vibration felt heavenly on her too-long covered flesh. Even under the influence of the fans her skin was slightly shiny from perspiration and a few drops of sweat trailed down vanishing between her breasts before he moved the razor over them. Jet stood behind her now, reaching around to shave down to her breasts where the wool ended on its own. He slowed as he approached them, knowing it was sensitive, supple flesh. He ended just at the top of her breast and held it there a moment. Against her will, Mary's nipple stiffened as she could feel the vibration through her soft tit mass. He repeated this till her upper body and arms were bare, and then took his time brushing off stray hairs. He ran his huge hands over her bare skin, feeling for anything he might have missed, but then felt something else. Jet briefly cupped the side of a black breast as he moved around in front of her again. He asked her if she ever rode a horse before and Mary could manage no response other than a blush.
Jet complemented her figure, now that it could be seen through all her wool, and said he had been trying to improve his own figure. He flexed for her and the seams of his best strained, started to tear, and finally snapped as the vest tore right off him. Mary's little heart paused a moment at the sight of the gigantically muscled chest before her. The huge contours of his rippling, glossy muscles were enough for her eyes to get lost for days in. After a few moments of etching that image into her memory forever, Jet chuckled at her and asked if she wanted to see anything else. With a few brief pauses of nervousness, she reached forward and hooked her fingers on the waistband of his shorts and underwear at the same time. She looked up at his handsome face above and he only smiled. She pulled them down. The muscular thighs held them on well but once she pulled it to his knees they fell away on their own. His sheath was twice as big around as Mary's arm! The cock within was only barely starting to show, but his balls were certainly visible immediately. Each virtually the size of her entire head! They were held in a smooth black sack, contoured only by a few veins. They likely weighed half as much as Mary's entire body. She ran a tiny finger gently dragging on the edge of the sheath and down in the crevice between huge balls, feeling the searing hot, smooth flesh. He pushed her back into a seating position and removed her skirt with one hand as he turned the razor back on with the other. He resumed shaving her while he was nude, getting her to roll over for him to expose her rear first. By the time she flipped around to let him at her front, his monstrously huge shaft was at half chub, already as long as Mary's arms, it hung lazily in an arch. Even a foot off her body, she could feel the heat emanating off his package. He worked her back from the top down but her front from the bottom up, starting at the edges of her well kept little hooves. His hooves were six times the size of hers! The last place he shaved her, he slowed to be extra careful, around her nethers. He exposed more and more of the moist, puffy black lips hidden under all her fluff. Once he was done he chuckled and pat her pussy to appreciate the smoothness. He half stood, licking the moisture off his fingers from her black lips, and as he stood his huge shaft draped itself down onto her crotch, nearly erect now it was longer than her body!
He said she looked like she needed to have some heat relieved from down there as well, and thrust slightly as his cock head fell between her legs. It was so huge that when he thrust, he pushed her entire body up the chair rather than actually get inside. She could smell his musk prominently now, and quivered with lust for the huge shaft. Completely black except for its later half, much like his face. The veins that ran along its surface alone were as thick as Mary's thumb. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder and pushed down. Mary was quite nervous- it didn't seem like there was any way she could fit any of that inside. She gasped loudly though as he increased pressure against her and actually popped inside! She closed her eyes to focus only on the feeling as he slid more of his hot meat into her. She could feel every curve of his shaft as it pushed past her lips and she felt more and more full! It was a wondrous pleasure and pressure pushing on her insides, touching her everywhere in there at once! When she felt the medial ring slide into her though she opened her eyes quickly enough! How was that possible? It should be physically impossible for him to have gotten that much inside of her, and he was very slowly putting in still more! He thrust in slightly farther than he pulled out each time, and it didn't hurt her at all. She could see the massive cylindrical bulge from her crotch straight up to her belly! He gently cupped one of her breasts, able to cover it entirely with one huge hand, and sucked on the turgid black nipple of the other breast as he did it, bent over while thrusting into her. Mary didn't know how this was possible but was swimming in pleasure and didn't have a care in the world outside of that. With his free hand caressing the curve of her side, Jet held her hip and pushed her down a bit, thrusting forward more aggressively and inch after inch seemed to vanish into Mary. She was so full of his throbbing cock she couldn't move, and when she felt his sheath brush her nethers against all odds, she lost control of her muscles anyway. Because she was crammed so tightly she released a high pressure spritz from her pussy as she cried out in pleasure.
Mary woke with a mix of a gasp and a moan. It took her a good few seconds to realize where she was and what was going on. Jet looked at her with a smile and look of slight confusion as he put the razor down. Luckily it was very hard to notice on her smooth black skin but she was blushing furiously when she realised she had fallen asleep from the cool comfort of the chair! That's why she could take so much of him in her- the entire thing was a dream, she was asleep the entire time! Jet just casually asked if it was to her liking and she hastily got up to examine herself front to back. Her tail was trimmed and shaped to more of a point but still wooly, and a triangle of wool remained over her womanhood as he did not remove her underwear, but everything else was shaved down to supple skin. Stuttering a bit, Mary nervously told him it was fine. Sheep did not need to pay for their haircuts thankfully either, as the barber simply kept the shed wool as payment.
Mary stepped back into the sun after adjusting her skirt and bikini top to comfort. Without her wool they were a bit too loose on her as they were. She tied the cloth she formerly had on her head, around her throat as a kerchief and let the sun kiss her bare head. She could enjoy the warmth without overheating! She practically skipped down the road, weighing only half as much as she did when she arrived, and head still swimming in fantasies about Jet. She now knew why all her friends came here. Yes...she would definitely have to come back here regularly. |
(F TF Lickitung) Lass Jenny was a hard worker. Not a smart worker, but a hard worker. In the world of pokemon there was a lot of misinformation, and thanks to the divides between regions after the great war information did not travel great from one region to the next. There was even a few people in the Kanto region who thought they caught every pokemon in the world, with only 151. Jenny believed the best way to train her pokemon team for battle was to battle them herself. Professor Kukui of the Alola region had set this example. It made sense, and it honestly did work- experience is experience after all. It just... wasn't quite normal. It was a lot better than the Youngster who always trained a bit farther down the route than Jenny- he trained his team by enduring all weather conditions while wearing shorts. And... that was somehow going to improve his team? Yea, Jenny didn't get it either, but she isn't about to tell someone how to live their life.
Jenny had one gym badge to her name, so she wasn't exactly a push over, and her choice of team was sound too. She had two pokemon- Miltank and Lickitung. Normal types- one weakness and zero strengths, the perfect strategy. They have very well rounded stats as well, and almost all normal types have extremely high health. These two pokemon made a good pairing- when they were hungry or hurt Miltank flopped them plump teats out and shared its delicious milk with them, while Lickitung was the fighter. As you could imagine from just its name alone- Lickitung is a pokemon based almost entirely on its tongue. Not at all large, it only stands a bit over three feet tall, so barely to Jenny's hip. Its entire body save a few markings on its underside is a pale pink, with very simple limbs. Its tongue however is larger than its entire body twice over- with saliva that can paralyze victims. Because its limbs were so short and basic it actually held and interacted with everything using the tongue- and its memory is based entirely on taste and feel. Its name might seem like it was chosen in haste, but when you are this strongly dependent on a single body part it sort of only makes sense to name it after that part.
This day was like any other for Jenny- sparring with Lickitung, waiting for a trainer. Since it was sparring with Jenny, the Lickitung wasn't using its paralyzing saliva. The two paused though as a trainer was walking toward them at a good pace. He was avoiding the tall grass in a hurry which was good, because they were positioned to see all the flat area- the trainer could not avoid both the grass and Jenny. Finally another opponent to test their skills on! And he looked like his pokemon were at least level 255... which is odd because its impossible to be over 100. The trainer walked up to them and Jenny raised a pokeball, but before she could say anything the trainer vanished and re-appeared ten feet back, once again walking toward them. Both he and the air around him seemed to flicker and the pokeball in his own hand started to clone itself- the extras falling to the ground and rolling away, then flickering out of existence. What the heck was with this guy?
The trainer got to Jenny a second time, raising his own pokeball in challenge. "Missing No. I choose.... ch-chuuuz... ebuta1. S2m bg3!"
Jenny furrowed her brow. "The heck?"
His form flickered and re-arranged into that of a pokemon professor in a lab coat. "Professor Oak challenges you to battle! Oak s3nd5 0u7......... h1m53Lf 2 teh p457!"
There was a sudden burst of air pressure and in a violent shimmer between fabrics of reality, the level 255 Bird type trainer collapsed in on himself and popped out of existence. Jenny was completely baffled as to what the heck just happened, and was far too caught up trying to make any sense of it to have noticed how everything blurred when he was removed from reality- causing her to overlap her pokemon for a brief moment.
"Well that was more than a little messed up. I am looking for a... challenge but..."
Jenny trailed off and slowly turned to look at Lickitung. Her voice wasn't coming from her own mouth. She was talking, but the sound was coming from her Lickitung! She made a few random sounds to test it and the sound continued to come from Lickitung- he was even moving his mouth as if he was making them. Both the pokemon and its trainer wobbled in place a moment as a strange sensation came over their bodies. In addition to being a bit dizzy of all of a sudden they both felt like they were supposed to be doing something else, but did not know what. The Lickitung started to slowly rise- getting bigger and its arms starting to get longer. It had remained ignorant of the situation largely till now- it knew what evolution was, but it also knew that a Lickilicky doesn't have longer limbs, so this wasn't normal. Jenny felt woozy as her perspective started to sink, she was getting smaller and her gut started to round out making her look sort of pudgy!
Jenny burped several times as her guts shifted around quite a lot, forcing any excess air out in the process. It may sound sickening but it almost sort of felt comforting- her organs almost felt more... organized? She looked bloated but felt the opposite- like her organs had settled and made a bunch of new free space in her body. Her limbs became rounder looking as well, but not quite fat. It was not as loose or natural looking as fat- it almost looked like she was inflating like a balloon. Her clothing struggled to stay on, completely changing the way they fit now. She was smaller overall, but also rounder, so the clothing was still catching on her body, just in different places. Her Lickitung pat her on the head to comfort her, though for that moment she noticed it had small nub fingers... Lickitung aren't supposed to have any fingers, they have a thumb only making their hands sort of mitten shaped. She had little time to think about it though as more changes took her.
Her tailbone started to extend and grow into a tail, which immediately shoved itself into her pants at an angle that yanked them down. It looked like her limbs were compressing almost- growing rounder and shorter at almost the same rate. It felt like they were just shrinking though, the muscle structure becoming more simplistic, the many bones in her feet fusing together. Her tail fattened quickly, coming longer but also very girthy. The areas of growth were blushing pink, but as the changes continued the pink started to advance into the rest of her body, changing its actual color to pink. Jenny felt something extending inside her chest area, deep within, squirming a bit. It continued to sink deeper into her and grow. She held her round smooth gut as it started to round out even farther, starting to stretch her entire torso rounder, which also caused her breasts to sink into partial obscurity. She wobbled and fell forward from the shifting, steadying herself on the ground with her hand for a moment to not fall completely over, and her heart skipped a beat when she seen the size of her hand compared to the pokeball she had dropped. How small was she now?!
Even as Jenny looked at it her hand simplified. Her arm continued to get rounder and shorter, and caused the definition to vanish between the arm, wrist, and hand- it all looked the same now. The bones in her hand started to compact and fuse together, removing all mobility from her fingers which also then started to fuse on the surface as well, looking like just more arm. Her arms ended in tapered, round points! The only thing that remained of the bones in her hand were now visible on the surface- a bone partially exposed on the underside toward the end, and a small rounded bone spike at the end of a rudimentary thumb to clutch things. Those are the arms of... a Lickitung! That psycho trainer put a hex on her! Hexadecimal that is- the type of code used to register items, pokemon, and attacks to the database. By switching her hex code with that of Lickitung, she is basically remade. Her mind is not affected though because AI is done through event scripting and isn't influenced by the hex.
It almost felt like she was sinking into the ground- she pushed herself back to her feet but kept angling farther forward, causing her to push more than she should have to correct herself. Her legs compacted tremendously and rounded out. The joints in her legs became extremely thick, to the point where her knee caps were half as big as her femur and shin. A ring of cream colored skin marked where her knees now were, since they were not outwardly visible otherwise. All of her toes had already fused together before she even started watching them degrade, and the fused bone pushed out on the end of her feet into a sort of hoof-like mono-claw. Jenny had no idea what to do- she was turning into a pokemon and had no way of stopping it! At least her Lickitung offered words of encouragement, telling her things would probably turn out ok in the end. She did not stop to remember her Lickitung isn't supposed to be able to talk in the first place.
Jenny moaned at the feeling of her fat tail being filled. Whatever had been growing down through her was now in her tail and it felt good to be filled- she had not even known it was hollow till now. The cream colored stripes of a Lickitung's underside started to fade in on her skin as her torso continued to round out more and more, swallowing her neck into it as well as her breasts, erasing them entirely! Her nose started to lose definition against her face, and her face started to round out speeding it up. Her entire head got a bit bigger and rounder and the growth seemed to force her hair out- slowly falling away from her. She stomped clumsily around on her simple legs holding her round body as a gurgling rumbled in her stomach. Something was growing up, trying to get out of her. She burped several times again, holding her mouth open on reflex. Her face became even more simplistic as its human features vanished into the roundness.
In her open mouth her tongue seemed to flex on its own, lifting and stiffening before a surge of growth fired up from inside of her and swelled it up huge! More surges came up as she continued to burp uncontrollably, and her tongue grew still larger. If anything would be the final nail in this coffin it would have had to be tongue. Her burps was the growth of the tongue forcing air out of her torso- a Lickitung is so tongue oriented that the appendage actually travels through its entire body! That was the growth she felt squirming in her before! The tail really is hollow- its used to store the excess tongue length! So a Lickitung's tongue actually attached at around the middle of its tail, and fires up through its body and out the mouth- which is why her organs needed to shuffle out of the way; so her tongue had room to move! Bigger, longer, fatter. A dog's tongue is pretty big, but its also very flat. A chameleon tongue is very long, but also very thin. A Lickitung's tongue was just gigantic in every dimension it could be. The saliva glands were actually in the tongue itself, not the mouth. It also had increased muscle mass so it could move far outside of the mouth- enough to hold and manipulate objects. Most creatures rely heavily on smell when eating- so most of what you taste is actually a smell, not a taste at all. Not Lickitung. It is able to taste in the same range as a nose smells with. You cannot overstate how important a Lickitung's namesake organ is- it acts as its primary limb, it help it keep balance, and it is the primary focus of all of its senses... except sight, but Lickitung has pretty bad eyesight and barely relies on it in the first place. It was so big and thick; she could taste the air with her neon pink limb. It surged and grew longer and she could taste objects exposed to the open air. Bigger and bigger and BIGGER- she could taste colors! The final changes as Jenny's gigantic tongue slowed its violent lashing and growing was her eyes- the pupils and iris widening till the whites could no longer be seen, making her eyes look very dark.
She waddled around, looking at everything but not really seeing anything. She was too absorbed in her racing thoughts. How did this happen? How do you fix it? She was a pokemon, pokemon trainer. Well... she supposed Mewtwo was a pokemon trainer for a while, so at least she isn't the first. Wait- Bill! The famed trainer who invented the pokemon PC storage function! There was rumors he had briefly spliced himself into a pokemon body in a failed experiment! If its true, then he knows exactly how to fix this. Jenny went to turn to her Lickitung at exactly the right moment to catch a pokeball in the face! She went wide-eyed as she seen herself standing there naked! Her... Lickitung got her old hex code. It had her body now! It transformed while she was absorbed in her own changes. Then she seen the red beam connected from the opening pokeball to her head. SHIT! It tossed a pokeball at her! She is being captured by her own pokemon!! The ball hit the ground and rocked back and forth violently for several seconds, but the Lickitung pressed down and B so it ultimately caught her.
It picked up her pokeball and gently licked it along the side. "Don't worry- I am helping!" Its face went blank as it tried to think of their next move. "I... guess we will wait here for another trainer to fight?" It shrugged and resumed their vigil.
So if you ever get challenged by a naked Lass, for the love of god go tell Bill. |
Heading to that club was probably the best idea Lex ever had in his life. He might look out of place, and immensely so, but the selection he saw in front of him was of such high quality that he could barely stop himself from openly licking his lips in sheer delight. Every species, every body type, even skinny little things like himself if he was so inclined… not that he was that night; oh no, the lizard wanted something more substantial, something he could sink his claws and teeth into as he melted onto a rock-solid set of abs or a pair of pecs that could smother him if he wasn’t careful. He’d come all the way there to find himself a hunk and he was going to get one if it was the last thing he did. And now that he looked at everyone there, he felt silly for thinking he’d be starved for choice; if anything, Lex had no idea where to even start with how many potential suitors were already eyeing him!
To be fair to them, he did stand out amidst the sea of beefy hunks that made up most of the dance floor; Lex was barely even five feet tall, and carried about as much muscle on his body as your average beanpole, making it potentially hazardous for him to stand next to just about anyone. One stray bump, or maybe even a deliberate squeeze, could spell disaster for him and his noodle of a body, but it did give everyone else something to look at. For people so used to seeing carbon copies of themselves as competitors on a daily basis, to suddenly lay eyes upon such a fine specimen of the other side of the beef spectrum was, if nothing else, surprising enough to attract attention. And for a select few individuals, those who would enjoy the sweet, tender caress of someone like Lex, the lizard was more than just a curious bit of window dressing, but a potential source of entertainment for the rest of the night.
For Lex himself, who was both well aware of this and fully intending to abuse it for his own benefit, the sudden surge of attention was all part of the plan; all he had to do was move towards the bar, sit his tiny little ass down and ask for a drink, and soon enough he’d have plenty of people wanting to muscle in and give him all manner of one-liners and horrible attempts at flirting. He liked that, in a way; it wasn’t inspiring or worth his time even for the best of them, but it did give him easy access to an unending cavalcade of potential lovers for him to pick from. All he had to do was play up the role of the ingenue, continue to pretend that this was his first time around the rodeo and he just needed a strong, steady hand to guide him through the process. It was an utter farce, but the only people in that building who knew it were himself and presumably the bartender, given the sort of expression he was giving him.
“Don’t start shit,” he seemed to be telling Lex, “just get your boytoy of choice and go somewhere quiet. We don’t need fights.”
Or something along those lines. Little did the horse know that the lizard wasn’t at all predatory, nor did he intend to throw people at one another for the sake of amusing himself; no, his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for anything or anyone that might peak his interest more than usual. As noted, the selection was wide and varied, and given the prevalence of reptilians in that night’s crowd, Lex figured he could do with someone a bit more scaly than usual; he’d been making use of furred lovers for so long that he had forgotten what it was like to feel the touch of his own skin on another, far beefier man, a source of warmth that he could exchange with properly… and there were certainly plenty of hot bodies to pick from. One, however, stood out from everyone else, a snake whose torso was perched atop a thick set of coils, themselves nearly as big as most of everyone else there, with the hunk standing tall enough to have his head bump against the ceiling, to say nothing of the sort of musculature on full display there. Lex could see it already, him failing to get any give when he tried to squeeze those pecs with both hands, the feel of those abs grinding against him… it was even better when he unwrapped himself to reveal that, contrary to what the tiny lizard had expected, he did actually have legs, as well as a very sizeable package hidden away between them. His tail was merely abnormally long, serving to hide his true nature, though why he did that was anyone’s guess.
The snake’s nuts were large enough to take up a significant amount of space about halfway to the knees, with the shape of his rod perfectly outlined in the tight shorts he was wearing, draped over the top of his sack and looking big enough to turn Lex into a large-scale condom if he ever asked for it. The more he looked at it, the more the lizard felt himself salivating; there was a true snack, someone he could sink his teeth into both literally and figuratively, all while swooning so hard over them that it became embarrassing. It was so bad that, contrary to what he normally did, Lex was the one who got up and went towards him, all while the snake did very much the same; the two met halfway, exchanged a single glance, and then the larger one literally carried the smaller one off to one of the many private back rooms the establishment offered, throwing a roll of cash towards the sighing, eye-rolling bartender.
Lex said nothing the whole way there, choosing to spend his time observing what would become his next delectable meal. There was certainly plenty there for him to enjoy, plenty for him to delight himself with when it came time for it. The snake hunk’s musculature was so well-defined that it looked practically chiselled onto him, the occasional throbbing vein popping against its surface and promising him the sort of strength that could leave his lower body in such a sorry state that he wouldn’t be able to walk properly after the two were done. But that wasn’t what Lex was interested in, or at least, not the primary thing; the lizard was far hungrier for that enormous cock swinging down below.
It was a wonder how the snake guy even managed to walk normally at all with a bulge like that, what with every step having his legs rub up against those overstuffed nuts and his cock pressing so tightly against the fabric struggling to keep it even halfway decent. It was clear that it wanted to burst out, to show itself to the world and let everyone see it for the glorious package that it was, a wish that Lex himself was all too happy to provide for, given time. The two eventually reached their destination, with a large, soundproof door soon standing between them and the rest of the club, the room itself being a rather cozy, small-ish place with a couple of couches and a table in the middle, along with some basic amenities such as a TV that probably saw no use at all.
It was clear from the way the snek was looking at him that he thought he was the one in charge in their relationship that night, presumably owing to his significantly higher muscle mass and the fact that, at least in his mind, the “twink lizard” he just picked up wouldn’t put up much of a fight once the pressure was on. And for the most part, Lex was happy to pretend that was the truth, playing up his bashfulness and reticence, even when he very clearly demonstrated he was down to fuck just moments prior. It was an act both of them indulged in, except one of them was secretly far more in control than the other even remotely suspected. Lex allowed the larger snake to get progressively closer to him, their bodies meeting and pressing against one another until he could feel the heat coming off from that immense, hulking soon-to-be-lover of his, the lizard’s own arousal beginning to peak as he felt his pants growing tighter by the second. He couldn’t help it anymore; he had to do it.
Pushing the snake off of him just enough for them to get the idea, Lex stood up and positioned himself in front of his partner for the night, proudly dropping his own pants and revealing a bulge that was… well-hidden, to say the least. When his underoos came into full view, even the larger reptile had to take a couple of seconds to take in what he was seeing; how was it that someone as tiny as Lex had a cock and a pair of balls that was proportionally as large as theirs? It felt like cheating, and yet it was so irresistible that the hunky male found himself subconsciously attracted to it like iron filings to a magnet, and soon enough the two of them were back together again, this time with Lex firmly on top, fully in control of where things were going. The poor hunk beneath him was so enraptured by the masterful touch of his supposed “prey” that he didn’t even notice the changes occurring to his body, what with his body temperature already being so high that he failed to realize it was getting even hotter. But Lex knew; and soon, Lex would feel it.
The lizard had a unique set of abilities, one that allowed him to make good use of those walking piles of beef he liked to call lovers. While he much preferred to take on the form of the tiny, “defenseless” lizard in need of a strong daddy to come sweep him off his feet, in reality he was far greater a predator than that, enough that only someone like the bartender could pick up on why he was really at the club that night. Well, them and the snake guy, seeing as his body began to shrink the longer it was in contact with Lex’s; first in height, with his towering self beginning to fall back down to just around average height for a male, then for the rest of his bulk, starting with his broad shoulders thinning out and then the musculature on his frame vanishing, seemingly into thin air. Of course, it wasn’t going anywhere that it wouldn’t be put to good use; Lex made sure of that.
Just as the snek was being drained of his size and power, only barely aware of what was happening to him, the lizard on top of him was becoming something greater, something grander; all of the stolen mass was being directed to him, so much so that, within just a few seconds of their transfer begun, Lex was the one who towered over his lover for the night, having to stop himself from roaring in unbridled, mindless pleasure. He wouldn’t stop until the role reversal was complete though; his chosen partner being that towering hunk that he used to be, there was a lot there for Lex to take before he became the pile of rippling muscles and they turned into the poor, helpless little reptile in need of a gentle, caring touch of someone that could shove a cock so massive into them that they’d end up with a permanent stomach bulge. The couch creaked and groaned underneath him as they shifted positions, enough that the snake finally had to take a good look at what was happening… only to have his yelp suddenly turn into a lustful moan halfway through.
“Wait, what… w-what are you…” they tried saying, their voice failing midway through just as Lex, now significantly larger and much bulkier, put a single finger over their lips.
“Shhh, no need to worry. I’ll give it back to you once we’re done,” the lizard growled back, his voice much deeper and carrying a certain amount of rumble to it, “but only after we’re done. Promise.”
It was one he fully intended to keep, but only after him and his new plaything were done for the night, and who knew when that would be? The last time Lex had an opportunity to play around with someone that large, the two of them ended up frotting the night away for hours on end, until they were both exhausted and unable to do anything that wasn’t either rubbing their cocks together or pumping themselves into the upteenth orgasm of their private session. And seeing as the now-diminutive snake man was looking up to him with an expression that conveyed equal parts enthusiasm, excitement and unbridled glee, presumably courtesy of his brain’s chemistry being thrown out of whack by the sudden bodily change, Lex could only presume this was going to be a repeat of one of those nights.
There was, of course, something he didn’t really change about his lover’s body, because it wouldn’t be as fun to play around with them if they both didn’t have a set of balls and a cock of reasonably similar sizes; it looked so hilariously oversized on that tiny body of theirs that Lex made a mental note to make his own size smaller the next time he went to a place like that, lest he end up looking absolutely ridiculous. The snake didn’t seem to mind though; poor thing was already rubbing his dick all over Lex’s, using his arms to hold onto the back of the lizard’s now-toned back and hold it as tightly as he could, now more of an accessory than anything else. For his part, Lex was happy to retribute the gesture, and soon enough the two of them were flat against one another, the larger reptile with his back to the floor, and copious amounts of pre flowing from both of their engorged shafts. There wouldn’t be a single spot left in that room that wouldn’t have some form of stain by the time they were done, and with every time the two of them climaxed together, Lex would steal just a little bit more of his lover’s size, hoping to turn them into something resembling a snakelike kobold before the night was over; their enthusiasm was such that the larger lizard was starting to wonder if they shouldn’t take this session of theirs elsewhere, maybe even carry it on throughout the day over at Lex’s place, where they’d have plenty of more room to indulge in whatever fantasies came to mind.
After all, it was a Saturday night. They had a whole Sunday ahead of them. |
Volunteer The door closed quietly. It wasn’t much of a room, small, with a full- length wall mirror on one side. She rubbed her ass, feeling the icy numbness from the injection site spreading through the muscles in her butt. She wanted this. She’d signed up for it even. But now that the reality was here? She wondered about the decision.
She wondered what would happen now. They had just told her to wait. So, she waited, the dressing gown slipping from her body. The mirror reflecting her nakedness; a soft pudgy body, that soft fluffiness that was more middle-aged housewife than nubile sex goddess. Her breasts a bit too pendulous, the slight sag in her stomach. She poked it, disheartened. Her dishwater blonde hair didn’t do her any favors either, it hung limp and straight no matter how she tried to style it. She felt plain.
The burning began. Where it had been icy, the chemical took to fire and set her insides alight. Her breath came in gasps as her thighs pulled tight together, skin knitting as if one. A crushing pain shot through her as her pelvis realigned, forcing her cunt forward, leaving it gaping lewdly above the rapidly merging skin of her legs. Her balance failed, and she toppled to the ground.
Her legs had merged, from hip to toe now, only for the skin to swell as something writhed within. It split along invisible seams as colorful scales peeked out amidst the shreds, her great tail growing outward. In moments she stretched across the room and back again, her coils dark green above, and golden yellow below.
The skin sluffed away, all the way to her hips where a crest of boney scales, like a belt, wrapped around her waist, save where it outlined her groin. It sat still thick and pink down below, dripping with excitement. The excess fat she bore melted away, leaving a waifish torso, each breast filling, turning ripe and full, followed by a second pair growing in only slightly smaller below the first. Each firm and perky, their nipples piercing the cool air, hard atop the mounds.
Her arms too rippled, feeling as if it were being torn in half. She watched in fascinated horror as her limbs split slowly, growing twins of themselves on each side of her body. She flexed them cautiously, feeling the new motions. One pair she used to grope her new breasts, the other slid down her serpentine hips. She murmured something, but it came out little more than a hiss behind her forked tongue. It flicked out, tasting the tangy air between fangs and plump kissable lips.
She gazed into the mirror, her body swaying back and forth. Equal parts lethal and lewd. She smiled wickedly at her sensual beauty, hypnotic and powerful. She curled on her new coils, aching to stretch and to feel the sun on her scales. But first? She desired, no, she ached for a lover, and a meal. |
Going for a picnic in the park was the best idea Kitty had all week; it was one of those vanishingly rare winter days where going outdoors was actually possible without the both of them ending up shivering in the cold, even if they had to wear jackets to protect themselves from the wind. There were a few other couples taking advantage of the lull in the chill in order to have a good time as well, and after spending a couple of hours chatting about nothing, Emily figured it was time to start working on what her real plan was. Not a single day had gone by in the past few weeks where she didn’t think about it, but the weather had unfortunately kept her from making it a reality; it was one thing to act when she had plenty of room to move about, another one completely when they were both confined to their apartment, huddling in front of a space heater and using it as an excuse to snuggle up for whole days at a time. Sure, there were plenty of opportunities for her to pad out certain parts of her, but nothing anywhere near what she had in mind for that day; after all, Kitty was such a loving, attentive and responsive partner that, frankly, it felt wrong not to give him something special every once in a while.
The other cat didn’t see it coming, as he never did; he was too busy staring at the clouds, trying to find interesting patterns or a topic of non-conversation that could keep them busy for another hour or so, when he felt something large, soft and warm press against his side. Before he could turn around to see what it was, however, it overtook him, two large masses that exuded heat in such great quantities that he actually started purring from how cozy and comfortable he felt, even when his body was being pinned down by whatever they were… of course, by the time he opened his eyes properly and saw that those two things were attached to Emily’s chest, and her head could be seen poking up from above them with the most devious little smile stamped on her face, all the worry flushed from his system; he didn’t even mind that his better half was doing this in public where anyone could see them, much less that everyone around them had already noticed and had begun making loud comments about how out of place that growth spurt was. For the two cats, the only thing that really mattered was the fact that they were together, they were appreciating one another’s company, and there wasn’t a single thing in the world that anyone could do that would stop that.
Of course, it was easier for Kitty to think this, because all he had to do was lie there and be squished underneath a progressively larger and heavier pair of breasts; even after Emily got back on her feet, their body significantly taller than it had been before (and quite nude, given that her clothes weren’t as stretchy as she was), all that was required of him was his undivided attention and the occasional blushing side glances whenever he liked to pretend he was too bashful or embarrassed to really appreciate the view. Meanwhile, all the “work” fell on Emily, who played her own role by doing her level best to make her partner mewl and moan at the mere sight of her; it would’ve been nicer if she had something to use as a means of support, something like a large pole or a building whose roof she could hijack, but she was nothing if not inventive. Even with nothing around her, even when she was quickly becoming the tallest thing in that section of the park, the cat could still rock her growing body in a way that would make anyone weak-kneed at the sight; what hope could Kitty have to resist her allure, now that he was once more being handed his literal dream scenario on a silver platter? Really, it was all he could do to resist making demands (or begging, to be more precise) on what part of herself Emily should improve next; this resulted in a very flustered-looking cat sinking his claws on the ground as his eyes glazed over the more his partner grew, a partner that seemed to be enjoying her transformation about as much or even more than he himself was.
Not that this was in any way surprising; as much as Emily liked to splurge out and make her bust or rear larger when she was alone with her love in the privacy of their own home, it wasn’t every day that she got to loosen up and let go of her limits and reservations like that, not necessarily out of her ability to do so, but more because of opportunity. It was something special, something that shouldn’t happen every day, or else it would end up losing its novelty; and when growing to become a giantess with hyper-exaggerated assets became mundane, that’s when all joy was sucked out of the world. Thus, she tried to keep her little growthsplosions to very rare occasions, no more than twice or thrice a year… but made up for it by making them count; it had barely been five minutes since she started and already her body towered over not only the park itself, but every apartment building around it, still not reaching skyscraper height, but getting there very quickly. Her bust had ballooned outwards to an almost obscene degree, completely covering her chest and jutting out several feet from either side of her, providing an ample amount of backboob that she was more than happy to put on display whenever she wasn’t directly facing Kitty, dangling those colossal breasts over him until his body reacted by itself, moving his arms upwards with grabby little greedy hands. Below the waist, Emily’s form had similarly been engorged to accentuate her abilities, with that perky bubble butt of hers expanding to become something powerful and large enough to flatten entire city blocks if she dared to sit down anywhere, an incomprehensible amount of jiggling taking place at the slightest motion.
And still she grew, pouring more and more mass into her body in one of the few times of the year that the city around her got to enjoy watching her become a curvaceous giantess; in her mind, it served as their belated Christmas gift, a little something special for all the little ones around her, but especially for the sake of the love of her live, who was yet to receive the real gift she had in mind. That day was special, not just because Emily got to enjoy herself a bit more than usual, but also because she didn’t intend for it to remain as a mere visual display; instead, she fully intended to give Kitty a closer look at the goods, and by closer look she of course meant picking him up gingerly with two fingers and then unceremoniously dropping him on top of a single breast, where it became painfully obvious just how massive she had become in comparison to him. The poor guy was so flabbergasted by the difference in size that all he could do for the first few minutes was stare ahead at the soft fur he was hugging, the pudgy breastflesh underneath offering the best bed-slash-body pillow that he could hope for once he got over his awkwardness and actually started squeezing down on it; Emily had expected him to do this, and while it was certainly quite fun to watch her special other lose himself on a mound several times bigger than he was, this wasn’t really what she had in mind for him. No, the feline had thought of something far lewder, something that would not only leave Kitty completely breathless after the experience, but would leave an indelible mark that would follow him for the rest of his life… at least until the next time she went overboard with her size and topped the experience, but that was a matter for another day.
Still, she didn’t bring her better half over to her bosom just so he could rub himself all over it with no regard for what was happening around him; she did so in order to show him just who exactly he was dealing with, who he had for a partner, who he had beside him every day of his life. Exercising as much care as she could, Emily poked the very top of Kitty’s head with the very tip of one of her claws, still enough to almost cover the former completely, and gently whispered for him to look up, even then her voice booming in the wind; now, the smaller of the two cats knew better than to ignore a suggestion like that, but when he did go through with it… it was just as wondrous as he imagined it would be. He knew where he was, knew that his position on top of one of Emily’s breasts meant that he should be able to see her face right there in front of him, especially given the few times she had grown enough during their more private hours that he could lie atop one of those mounds. Instead, however, what he saw was an expanse of soft boob, spreading in every direction around him, with a thin layer of clouds between him and what he could only presume was part of Emily’s neck; he was staring up at her, having assumed that her smile would be beaming down at him, and instead received something that came straight out of a kaiju movie, albeit one with a lot more tits than usual. His love was gigantic, to the point where even using that word at all felt like an understatement, and for the first time in quite a while, Kitty genuinely felt small.
Not just small, but tiny even, inconsequential in fact; like Emily could simply sweep him aside without a thought, along with a large chunk of the city. In fact, though he couldn’t see it from where he was lying down, the macro-sized cat was having some trouble not destroying her surroundings, given that her paws alone had grown to be the size of entire city blocks, and collapsed the ground for several feet of depth wherever it was she anchored them. It was always a bother whenever this happened, hence why she began looking around for any opening that she could exploit to get as far away from downtown as possible; after all, she was large enough that a single large step could bring her from the park all the way to the suburbs without too much of a hassle, even if it did mean moving at such speeds that poor Kitty had to practically sink his claws into the breast beneath him just to avoid being dragged off by the wind currents. This only served to drive the point home on just how colossal his partner had become, along with deepening the already bottomless well of adoration he had for her inside of him; really, at that point, he almost felt inadequate for being so tiny and unable to do anything for Emily when she was that large, even when he knew for a fact that most of the reason why she went that far was precisely because of him, to make him feel as if she was literally his entire world.
Little did he know, however, that as soon as Emily was safely away from the constricting confines of the middle of the metropolis, the moment she had some room to maneuver that wouldn’t require destroying buildings, that’s when she decided to spring her surprise on him and show her loveable Kitty just what her lewd little mind had come up with. By that point, at her size, moving the smaller cat was actually quite difficult; even a single fingertip was enough to miss him completely, resulting in her dragging it over her breast without actually bringing the poor guy along with it. It took a few tries, and a bit of licking in order to glue her better half to the tip of said finger, but she finally managed to pull him off, bringing him upwards at such a high speed that Kitty could barely breathe by the time he got… there. There, in the heavens, looking at Emily’s face, the most alluring expression eyeing him with just the slightest dash of a predatory stare, threatening to give him a big, sloppy kiss that would no doubt end up covering him in spit from head to toe. But that wasn’t what Emily had in mind; rather, there was a very good reason why she had Kitty stuck to the tip of her finger and not anywhere else, and that was because it made it significantly easier for her to point it downwards and then unceremoniously shove it straight into the middle of her cleavage.
In an instant, the outside world ceased to exist, replaced on all sides by the tight hug of two colossal, chest-obscuring, milk-stuffed mounds that churned and roiled so loudly that Kitty felt like his ears were going to rupture. And yet, despite this, he had never felt more comfortable in his entire life: it was like a full-body massage, one that never ended, one that surpassed anything that mere mortal hands could produce, leaving him feeling like he had died, gone to Heaven, died again and was then provided an express ticket to some sort of super-afterlife that made the regular stuff look as mundane as the real world. There he was, stuck between two tits big enough to smother the entire city he lived in, trapped between what had to be miles of boob in every direction, unable to move and yet also utterly unwilling. Why should he move when he was in the best spot he could be? Or rather, the best spot up until Emily decided to put her hands to even better use, squishing her breasts together and working them in just the right way to make the poor kitten trapped between them tumble around like he was in a washing machine, feeling like his entire world was being turned upside-down and inside-out every second… and loving every moment of it.
As for Emily, well… she could barely see the city at all, owing to the rather large amount of clouds in the way, but she knew that her torso was about as big as it was, and her breasts and buttocks probably outsized it on their own. It was a good size, she wasn’t about to say otherwise… but it felt insufficient. Didn’t Kitty deserve everything she could give him? Hadn’t he earned her full abilities being put on display? Because he certainly did. And she could certainly grow bigger than this.
So why not do it? |
D and the Behemoth
D mmmed softly, blinking his eyes and trying to figure out where exactly he was. Last thing he knew, he'd been walking in the woods on the way to the next town on his little adventuring tour, hoping that they had some monsters that needed slaying and dungeons that needed exploring and looting, evil wizards that needed to have their towers toppled (often with them inside it), and other such things suited to a wandering adventurer, though not often as one as unique as D.
Born of a eastern-type water dragon and some kind of furre, D was quite a sight to see. Tall and muscular, but quite lithe, covered in yellow fur with a white underbelly, he tended to draw stares wherever he went. His father, also an adventurer, he had never met. His mother snuggling with him for comfort during some sort of quest. Two legged fuzzy things with tails all tended to look alike to most dragons. So D was used be being called 'cat,' 'kangaroo,' and 'fox.' Though why they didn't just call him 'dragon' and be completely sure about it, D would never know.
The half-dragon blinked his eyes a few times, trying to see in the darkness. Rather then an mmm this was now accompanied by a full bodied moan. Something felt quite good. His eyes finally switching over from light to dark vision, he saw a rather large, rather furry, rather horned creature with his cock in it's mouth.
The beast purred happily, its tongue working playfully over D's maleness. He had to admit the creature was quite good at this, though why it was doing it was a complete mystery. Being a dragon, however, he wasn't one to turn down the opportunity for pleasures of this type, and lay back to allow the creature to work, looking over his lover.
A Behemoth of some sort, a small adult by the looks of it. The bullish horns, the powerful body that combined draconic and feline features. A female by the looks of her, as she lacked a mane and looked a bit round in the middle. Probably pregnant. One didn't see the females very often, as it was only the males that were aggressive towards anything that moved, or had something shiny, or smelled vaguely like food.
This one seemed to be exceptionally friendly, probably a bit lonely, as D didn't catch the scent of a male Behemoth around. Mmm... boy that tongue, soft and smooth, and so dexterous, twisting around his cock. Because he smelled like a furred dragon, the Behemoth probably thought he was a small sort of Behemoth male?
Smiling, the half-dragon patted the Behemoth's head, drawing a loud murr from the beast. Taking her by the horns, he slowly pulled her muzzle away from his groin. He had a better idea. Apparently she had the same thought, turning around and raising her tail, looking back at D with a pleading look in her eyes.
Not being familiar with Behemoth biology, D had no idea why a pregnant female would behave like this. Maybe she was full of eggs that needed to be fertilized or something like that? He didn't know if Behemoths laid eggs or not, but it was possible. Not wanting to make the heat stricken predator angry or anxious, D slid his cock gently into her depths.
The Behemoth growled softly as D pushed his way inside her, not an angry growl though. The half-dragon wrapped his arms around his lover's thick tail, using it to help thrust into her. D began to growl softly himself, for such a large creature, she felt so wonderfully tight. Her inner contours felt just perfect against his cock, so wet, so warm.
The warmth seemed to spread over his groin, oozing down to caress his balls, spreading across his thighs. He looked down to find a strange goo spreading over his body. It was bluish and transparent, and wonderfully warm. It caressed his body lovingly, tenderly, an extension of the Behmoth's body it seemed.
D reached down with a handpaw, gently probing the ooze, it crept over his fingertips, oozing slowly down to his palm. He pulled his hand away, the goo clinging to the rest by a long thread of the substance, continuing to pour over him. The half-dragon gasped as the stuff began to slide into his tailhole, gathering there, slowly opening him wider and wider.
His lover seemed to be enjoying this even more then simple mating, she growled and snorted, the tip of her tail twitching rapidly. She bucked and pressed back against him, the goo that served as her sex rippling and writhing, milking him needfully.
D couldn't hold back any longer, with a roar he climaxed, a shiver running though his lover's body as he did so. The Behemoth no longer seemed in heat, horny and needy. The goo on his body slowly receded, pulled back into her. The ooze let him go with a loud slurp, having collected every last drop of seed that D was able to give.
The half-dragon knelt down next to the Behemoth, patting her head. "Feel better now?" he asked, hugging her neck. In reply the Behemoth stuck her tongue out, long and thick, made of transparent blue slime, and lick D's face.
"That's a pretty neat trick. What is that girl?" D asked, more to himself then expecting any answer from the Behemoth. He took her muzzle in his handpaws, opening her mouth gently and looking inside. She didn't seem to mind at all, opening wide for him to take a look.
Her insides were all blue, some darker then others. Most seemed to be made up of the strange slime. Her teeth were almost crystalline, perhaps a harden form of the goo. "I hope this doesn't hurt," D said with a smile, reaching into her mouth, "Otherwise I just might lose an arm."
He pressed against her tongue, and wasn't at all surprised to find his hand sinking into it, down through the floor of her mouth, down into her neck. Pulling his handpaw towards himself, he looked down to see the outline of his hand poking out of the skin on the Behemoth's neck. "Maybe you're not a Behemoth after all?" D mused, "Just something copying the shape?"
Not wanting the creature to get any ideas about pulling him in further, D quickly removed his hand, curiosity satisfied. He gave the Behemoth another pat and began looking around for his sword. "It's been fun," he said to the creature. "But I really have to get going. There's some not so friendly monsters out there that I have to get to slaying."
Ah! There it was! He walked over to a pile of leaves, brushing them off the sheathed blade. D looked it over to make sure there weren't any spots of water that might rust the blade. Nope, nothing. Everything was good to go... wargh!
D felt a sudden weight on his shoulders, knocking him down into the pile of leaves. A soft, smooth tongue lapping at his ears. The Behemoth was apparently in a playful mood. "I'd love to stay and play with you, cutie, but I really have to get.... URGH!" D grunted, as something large and smooth and hard pressed up against his backside.
The half-dragon tried to wriggle free, but the heavy paw on his shoulder kept him pinned to the ground. Her looked back to see a thick blue cock extending from the Behemoth's sex. An extension of the goo, he realized. Apparently having been satisfied as a female, the creature was still a bit horny.
"Umm... I don't think that's going to f.... GAAAAAH!" D said with a roar as the massive member was pressed forcefully into his tailhole. It did fit, but barely. "Hey, come on now! Stop it!" D said, wincing from the mild pain. "Really, I have to go."
The Behemoth didn't pay any mind to his protests, D could feel the cock reshaping inside of him, making a thick knot, tying the two of them together. The beast removed her paw from his shoulder and rolled onto her back, taking D up with her. The half-dragon moaned, his eyes unfocusing for a moment. Being pulled around by his tailhole had felt a lot better then he thought it would have.
He lay on the creature's swollen belly, not pregnant as he had thought, but filled with goo judging from the soft squishiness of it. Rather then mating him, the Behemoth seemed to be doing something else entirely, as she wasn't bucking, nor was the mass of goo sliding in and out.
D's eyes widened as he saw a crystalline orb through the translucent goo of the cock. "Oh no!" he said with a gulp. "I don't think I want to be a nest for your eggs, thanks."
He tried to pull himself free, but all that did was make him feel more and more turned on as he made the goo inside of him wriggle and squirm. He couldn't help himself, he was getting hard again. His pink dragoncock emerging from his sheath once more. "Oh well," he said with a sigh, "Might as well enjoy this."
He began to stroke himself, closing his eyes and laying back on the rather comfy bed of the Behemoth's belly. He felt the egg's shell pressing up against his tailhole. D gritted his teeth, preparing for the discomfort that would accompany such a large thing being forced into him. He cried out, not from pain, but from pleasure. The egg felt so good now that it was inside of him.
A second began the journey down the beast's cock. D licked his lips, eagerly anticipating its presence inside of him. He arched his back violently as the egg slid into him, much easier then the first had. A jet of warm pre virtually erupted from his cock, spattering all over his chest and face. D lapped eagerly at the sticky sweetness, becoming more and more enraptured by the prospect of being filled with the Behemoth's eggs.
The two football sized orbs inside him made his trim belly poke out a little bit. D couldn't help but imagine how wonderfully sexy he'd look with a big round tummy filled with eggs. He couldn't help but run his handpaw over his belly, his other paw stroking his cock furiously. He felt so close to orgasm, so close to covering himself with his seed, but it just wasn't happening. He needed to cum, but there was this weird tickling feeling inside himself.
Everything felt so good, the wriggling of the goo-cock inside of him, the increasing weight of the eggs inside of him, the effortless stretching of his tailhole with each new egg that entered him, the strange feeling inside of his body, the familiar slick warmth spreading over his legs and tail. D looked down to see that the goo-cock had expanded, four tentacle branching off from the base. They circled around his leg, wrapping around them, pulling him down into the Behemoth's sex.
He knew he should be panicking right now, but he just couldn't find the fear he knew ought to be there. Everything felt so damned good. He moaned and arched his back again, another jet of pre gushing from him as yet another egg found its way into him. His pre felt a little funny. He looked down to find that it wasn't pre at all, but a rather thin version of the blue ooze.
He wasn't going to be a nest for the eggs at all, the eggs were becoming a part of him, making him all gooey inside like the Behemoth! Again, he knew he should be worried, but he wasn't. As his legs vanished into his lover's sex all he could think about was how wonderful it would be to be all gooey inside. It would make adventuring much more fun, not having to suffer negative effects from the teeth and claws of monsters, or the blades and arrows of rather unpleasant warriors.
D wondered if he would feel like this all the time, pleasured and happy, feeling wonderfully content with his new friend inside of him. He closed his eyes and began to purr happily, eagerly succumbing to the sweet warmth of the Behemoth's depths. "Thank you." he said softly, his head finally being pulled in.
He simply lie there, floating inside his lover, and in a way his mother as well. He purred, enjoying the soft flow of the goo around him and inside of him. He felt his belly continue to swell, the eggs inside of him hatching and painlessly feeding on what they found inside of him, converting his insides to goo. He exhaled his last breath, the goo covering his lungs, making breathing no longer a necessity.
The half-dragon had no idea how long he remained inside the Behemoth, his body going through changes, his form adapting to the goo, and the goo adapted to his own desires. He blinked his eyes some time later, suddenly not surrounded by the goo Behemoth's warmth. He looked around, but she was nowhere to be seen.
There was no sense of loss, however. He instinctively knew this was how things were supposed to be, the two of them going different ways to make sure that they didn't saturate an area with their converted offspring.
D yawned and stretched, feeling the delicious motion of the goo inside of him stretching much better then muscle tissue ever would. He absentmindedly scratched an itch on his chest, and encountered something strange there. Looking down he found that he wasn't exactly a he anymore. A pair of large breasts adorned his lithe frame.
Down past his new breasts was his belly, a wonderfully large roundness that marked him as being full of goo. It was a bit too round to appear as an actual pregnancy, but odds were no one would really notice the difference.
Smiling, D got to his feet, feeling a bit different, heavier. His tail was a little thicker, and his legs felt a bit different, shorter and thicker to help better balance out his belly.
He slid a hand down between his legs, confused for a moment when he didn't find his maleness, instead finding a large feminine slit along the underside of his belly. He chuckled as he recalled his transformation. He didn't really need an external cock, as he could simply making one for in whatever size and shape he wanted at will.
Picking up his sword and adjusting his now ill-fitting vest, he began to whistle as he continued his journey towards the next town, hoping he'd get the opportunity to put his new talents to good use. |
He didn’t know what was more embarrassing: being summoned to his boss’ private quarters for a “personal, one-on-one discussion”, or having to be escorted there by a bunch of very clearly naked kobolds who couldn’t seem to decide whether or not they wanted to be horny around him or just poke him in the shins to tell him to hurry up. It was certainly nerve-wracking, that much was certain, especially as he got closer to the entrance to the penthouse and noticed the door was ever-so-slightly open, just enough for him to be able to hear what was waiting for him within… or, to be more precise, who.
The humming was always a bad sign; the boss never hummed like that unless she was planning on doing something to someone in order to make an example out of them to everyone else; given that he was going to be alone in a room with the lizardess, presumably surrounded only by her coterie of kobold servants, this brought up a lot of uncomfortable questions about just what exactly she was planning on doing to him. The assumption that he might be in trouble was, as far as the cat cared, a certainty; he had dared to speak up, or at least attempted to speak up during a time when he was very clearly intended to remain nice and quiet, and now he had to pay the price. He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised, but looking back, his first instinct was to try to remember where exactly his life went so wrong that he was now going to be at the mercy of someone who could very easily snap him in half if she wanted to. Someone who would do that if he pissed her off enough, or at least he so assumed.
But when he was ushered through the semi-open door, the ‘bolds surrounding him poking and prodding at his legs until he crossed the threshold, he didn’t see Aleksi wielding some kind of weapon, dressed impeccably as she always did and yet still ready to visit extreme violence unto him the likes of which no one had seen before. There was no menacing atmosphere, or indeed any sign that Aleksi was even there at all; just a penthouse suite, with everything in its proper place, the TV on and a half-empty bag of chips on a glass table next to a sofa. The humming was still there of course, just coming from his left side, getting louder and louder as the looming, overbearing presence of the lizardess made itself known. Her footsteps were quiet enough not to be heard over the background noise, but her sheer size was more than sufficient to let the much smaller cat become aware of just who was standing right next to him, even if he made sure to look aside and pretend like he wasn’t “seeing” it; he could still feel it in the back of his head, and when he refused to turn it to face Aleksi, she… bent down.
Of course, the feline couldn’t possibly know this. He figured that she had merely approached him even more, ready to place a hand on his shoulder in order to dictate where he was allowed to go and how much he could move; he couldn’t have figured that his boss had actually bent so far down that her exposed bust hung beautifully from her chest, creating one hell of a scene for when she placed one hand on top of his head and forced it to turn and face her. Rather than the lizardess as she’d been in the executive meeting, clearly exposed but still carrying some amount of clothed dignity, this version of Aleksi was entirely nude, something that the cat staring at her would probably be aware of if his eyes hadn’t immediately been absorbed by the frankly ridiculous amounts of cleavage on full display just a couple of inches away from him.
To call that bust large would be an understatement, and at that point, the cat had no idea whether it was because Aleksi was so much taller and bigger than him that even a “reasonable” size looked massive in comparison, or if her growth had carried on past the point where she’d previously allowed it to. All he knew was that those things hung perilously close to the ground, and the resulting marshmallow heaven was most likely deep enough that he could sink his entire arm into it and still have room to move further inside… so he did. The cat wasn’t even aware of how gluttonous the stare Aleksi was giving him was, nor how she so openly licked her lips, nor even what the rest of her body was like; he could only see directly in front of him, into those two mounds and the promise of warmth and comfort if only he dug deeper in between them, surrendering himself to their plushness.
It was almost too easy. Aleksi just stood there, grinning madly and with her teeth on full display as her prey willingly walked into their own doom, unable (or just unwilling) to control themselves as their arms vanished into the cavernous cleavage she had put on full display. Part of her hoped that he would struggle, perhaps even wriggle around a bit and say something that would let her reply in a way that would fulfill her predatory fantasies, but complete and total dominance resulting in absolute subversion of a psyche also worked; it’d been some time since she got to flex that part of herself, so having it happen once again was always welcome. Besides, it took care of all the nasty post-transformation readjustments that always came with those who struggled; this one was going to fit right into their new role, and was going to do so on their first go.
For the whole point of this exercise was not just to seduce this precious little boytoy who thought himself a big-shot corporate executive just because she herself had given him a title and a big paycheck. It was certainly a large part of it, but the original idea had in fact been to make an example out of him, to show to the rest of her Board of Directors what was in store for them if they dared to even try to do anything that would endanger or compromise her position. It just so happened that, in order to do so, she needed to get up close and personal with this new soon-to-be-accoutrement of hers, close enough that the warmth of her body began to envelop him in a way that was, perhaps, a bit more unnatural than would be expected.
Soon enough, the cat would feel his eyelids growing heavier and heavier, his breathing slowing down as his ability to stand up was compromised; this was fine though, because by that point, he wouldn’t even need to stand, he had Aleksi there to help him up, to hold him closer to her, to wrap her arms around him and push his body closer against hers, until it felt like he was melting into her.
Until he was literally melting into her.
It was a trick the lizardess had learned some time ago, and very rarely got to pull out, hence her obvious, lip-licking glee at being able to indulge in it for a short while. If the feline was already little more than a meat puppet for her corporate desires, why not go the full mile and turn them into something that would look good on her as well? He was already her property; might as well make it official and get a nice bra out of it while she was at it.
One that was remarkably pliable, all things considered. The last time Aleksi had to take someone and turn them into something she could wear, they struggled all the way to the very end; this one though, he really did just melt onto her body without so much as a peep, which even the lizardess found somewhat baffling. Surely, someone who had the audacity to try and speak up would have some resistance in them, rather than it turning out to be nothing more than hot air. At least they were about as soft as they looked; long-furred feline species always ended up creating some of the most comfortable pieces of attire in her personal experience, and this one was no different.
As his body stretched and distended, draping itself across and around her bust, Aleksi had to contain herself in order to keep the rest of the building from hearing just what was on her mind; it was always such an overwhelming experience, to have someone’s body flatten itself against hers and be transferred over before solidifying into something that could be easily removed and put back on, enough that she really didn’t know how to react to it beyond having her legs squirm and her hands get dangerously close to somewhere they wouldn’t easily come back from. It certainly didn’t help that she’d allowed her bust to grow beyond what it usually did, not only leaving it noticeably more sensitive than normal, but giving the cat even more room to cover, which they did admirably.
It was as if he wanted to be turned into a piece of clothing, not so much eager or happy but subservient to the point where he felt it was his duty to do so, to hug his boss’ curves and contours in just the right way to leave the lizardess moaning quietly and cursing beneath her breath, desperately wanting to open her mouth wide and belt out a string of words that would leave everyone in a mile radius blushing furiously.
But she held. This was always something she could eventually do later, when she was in much better control of her own libido and not having her tits actively massaged and kneaded by a living bra; in the present, she had much more important things to do, such as making sure that the lustful kitten melting onto her body didn’t go too far in their quest to pleasure her. After all, she was still turning him into something that was designed to be worn, and that required a certain amount of comfort if she was to do so for any decent amount of time; were Aleksi to allow the cat to do as they pleased, she’d probably end up with a slingshot bikini rather than something halfway decent, thus requiring her full attention (or at least as close to full as possible) to direct the feline’s efforts where they were better suited. It helped keep her focused, at the very least, with her hands working carefully to move her breasts around and mould the cat’s semi-fluid body into a shape that would best suit her needs; it was important not to freeze them too much as well, because she was eventually going to shrink down, and keeping bras around just for when she was that big would be a waste of closet space.
It took a fair bit of time, but once she was done putting the cat in his proper place, Aleksi was beside herself. Looking down at her ample cleavage, it was hard to believe she hadn’t made it grow even more; the way her new bra helped push her plush bust was so perfectly designed to accentuate her soft breasts that it genuinely made it look larger, not to mention possessed of the perfect amount of overspill for anyone looking at her from the front. It was clearly too small to handle her, and yet it didn’t feel tight and constrictive, the perfect combination of form and function if she’d ever seen it… and now, everyone would have to see it. After all, she hadn’t called her former subordinate to her penthouse just so she could lord her size over him and transform the poor guy into disposable lingerie, nor had she deliberately kept their face, in a slightly stretched-out shape, right front and center just for show. No, she had better plans than that, and those plans involved summoning yet another meeting of the Board.
***
In many respects, Aleksi looked exactly like she had in the last meeting, with the key difference being that she’d kept her bust at the exaggerated size that it had been when the feline, which she had kept close to herself for all that time, first walked into her living space. It was actually far more fun than she anticipated; the back pain wasn’t as bad as she had feared it would be, and there was something special about being able to sit down on the couch and have her tits spill onto her lap like it was absolutely normal. Besides, with the cat being such a lovely little thing in keeping himself in just the right shape to support her, it made for a wonderful couple of days where she came to truly appreciate the gift that she had given him; truly, there could be no greater blessing than to be used as a plaything to clothe her.
Thus, the lizardess decided to forgo the use of more formal wear… above the waist. She still wore pants, even if they were remarkably tighter than usual given that her curvaceousness was still slightly improved around the hips and ass as well; her upper body though, that one went with an eclectic mixture, what with her bust being on full display, covered only by the cat-turned-bra and bursting free from a suit that was very clearly too small for her to wear. In many respects, Aleksi looked like she had outgrown her own clothing, which was exactly the kind of aesthetic she was going for; that, and making it perfectly clear that unless the rest of the members of the Board wanted to be used as raw material to fix that little problem, they would do well to shut up, sit down, and do whatever it was they were asked to do with nary a peep nor complaint. If they knew what was best for them, of course.
With her entourage of kobolds following her much like they had the last time, Aleksi made the final preparations for her grand entrance: adjusting the fuzzy bra to make sure to hide her nips while still having plenty of soft breastflesh spilling over the edge, pulling back the suit just enough to really make it look like she was unable to contained, even going so far as to tighten her belt to accentuate her lower curves just a tiny bit more. Already the people on the other side of the door could tell that something terrible their way was coming, and though they couldn’t see it, they certainly heard the heavy footsteps… and all the rumours that had reached their ears ever since flying back for the meeting.
Hopefully, Aleksi thought to herself, someone would be so stupid as to try and speak up again.
She could use some new underwear. |
In the absence of a body that gave him what he wanted, William turned to the wonderful, reality-altering powers of medical science. In a move that surprised absolutely no one, the snep had saved up enough money to buy himself an early Christmas gift, something that he’d been looking forward to for what felt like years: a fattening pill! The product of years of chemical and market research on the part of some company whose name he couldn’t remember, it was supposed to help the body retain more fat from everything that it processed, or some fancy stuff like that; the way the snow leopard remembered it was far simpler: “Eat More, Fatten More”, the slogan for the product itself.
He’d been looking for something like it ever since he discovered that, much to his chagrin, he just couldn’t get his body weight past the hundred-and-fifty pound mark, no matter how hard he tried. Even with a sedentary lifestyle and a desk-based job, somehow he managed to burn off any excess calories, making it practically impossible for him to put on any weight without wasting a small fortune on gorging himself daily; and as much as the snep wanted to see himself bloat up to look like his idols, he wasn’t going to be putting down hundreds of dollars in food every week just so he’d have a fighting chance. Therefore, as soon as he found out that the magical fattening pill of his dreams had just been made a reality, he hurried to purchase it, gladly sucking up the initial investment to get his hands on a bottle full of those things.
It arrived on the mail a few days later, carrying with it a set of instructions on best use practices. Not wanting to blow the one opportunity he was given at finally reaching the body of his dreams, the snep made sure to triple-check them all, even going so far as to pin the pamphlet to a corkboard he had had in his home office. After so long spent without any results, he took the first pill just before lunch, then started preparing the biggest meal he’d had in months. It wasn’t anything particularly fancy, just large: an entire meatloaf, just for him, something that he normally wouldn’t splurge out on unless it was a really big occasion (such as that one). It took him the better part of an hour to go through, and by the end he was so stuffed that he could see a small bump on his belly where his stomach rumbled and gurgled, but it’d all be worth it by the end; assuming the pills did what they were advertised for, he was going to see results in mere hours rather than having to wait for weeks only to be disappointed.
Indeed, as the rest of the day went by and William got busy doing whatever was on his list of chores, he began to notice how the food baby he was carrying wasn’t going anywhere, even after his stomach stopped making noises; if anything, when he brought his hands to his belly, it didn’t feel as stuffed as it had been, having gone back to its usual softness… but with a lot more added pudge to it as well. The face he made upon realizing what had happened could only be described as joy incarnate, and if not for the physical impossibility of it, the snep might have literally beamed with pride, illuminating his surroundings so much that he’d scrape the paint off the walls with sheer lux power. The snep rushed to the nearest mirror, holding his shirt up to inspect the damage; sure enough, there it was, a belly, a right and proper belly with fat and everything! It was tiny, at least compared to what he wanted it to be, but it was proof of concept; now all he had to do was keep eating and taking the pills, and soon enough he’d be waddling from place to place rather than walking normally!
Over the course of the next few days, William made sure not to go overboard on how much he was intaking; he wanted results, yes, but now that he knew the pills worked, he didn’t feel like he needed to rush it, not like before. A slow and steady pace, over time, allowing him to simply enjoy his life while reaping the benefits, would give him the best experience possible; rather than having it all in one go, it was best to spread his enjoyment over time, giving him ample opportunities to appreciate how his belly was slowly growing more rotund, how he woke up progressively heavier, how simple tasks began to grow harder to complete. His breath was the first to be affected, and something as banal as climbing up the stairs to his apartment was now more of a physical chore than just… something he did. While others might’ve found that to be indicative of a need to go on a diet, for William it was a sign that things were going the right way; he’d start at the ground floor, perfectly fine, and end up drenched in sweat and barely able to breathe by the time he got to the top! He did this a few times before realizing it was best for his health to start using the elevator from that point forward, itself yet another constant reminder of how fat he was getting.
Clothes were another issue, and one that he deliberately postponed dealing with until he absolutely had to. Nothing gave him more joy and happiness than walking somewhere with a shirt that was several sizes too small, what with it riding up his enormous, bloated stomach and showing his pudgy self off to everyone in the street. Not many people reciprocated the sheer, unfettered excitement, but those that did made it worth several times over; at points, whenever he brought up that he was on the fattening pill, people asked to take a selfie so they could convince their friends that it actually did work! William saw that as some sort of service to the community, in his own little odd way. Similarly, restaurant owners in the local shopping centre were happy to give him the best (read: most exposed) tables so that everyone could tell that he was there; many had been paying top dollar to patronize the fat pill, hoping to receive some return on investment after it made the rounds, so using the snep to show to their customers that it was, indeed, the real thing, was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
As for the snep himself, he couldn’t really think of anything better for him. Large meals, ready to eat, at a discount and without the need for him to cook them? All he had to do was sit his widening ass down and gorge himself on some delicious food? They didn’t have to ask him twice; wouldn’t take long before he just stopped cooking for himself altogether, and began spending his dinner and lunchtimes around restaurant-goers and prospective fat enthusiasts wanting to know what it was like to live a life at that size. He always did his best to let them know that it was a challenge, and that it wasn’t all roses and sunshine; going up stairs slowly became an impossibility, yes, but so did anything that required physical effort, like bringing groceries back home or reaching at higher shelves. It was a commitment… but a really good one.
A commitment that began to pay off without him having to wait much time; either it was a deliberate design decision, or his body had just taken to the pills exceedingly well, but the snep could swear that the effects of his new medication were starting to be magnified the longer he was on it. It went past the point where he simply retained most or all of the small bloating he felt after every large meal and instead he began to feel as if he was actually getting bigger than he should be. It was nothing more than a suspicion at first, and he was happy to classify it as such; probably just his mind being tricked into seeing something that wasn’t there, courtesy of having a body of his dreams just handed to him with such ease, so it was normal that he thought he was getting even fatter than in his most optimistic projections. As time went on and he bought a set of scales that didn’t immediately break under the strain of holding his full girth however, the snow leopard began to run out of excuses to tell himself; he wasn’t gaining a couple of pounds a day, maybe two or three if he was really lucky, but upwards of five, sometimes getting close to ten if he happened to stuff himself particularly happily. It was hard to tell what did it though; was it the pills, or the fact that he was eating out a lot more often than before he started his journey? Was it the chemicals contained in that magical medicine or him pigging out twice a day with plenty of snacks in between lunch and dinner?
If he wanted to, William could probably find the answer, but that assumed he was ready to start moving variables around and potentially cut back on his eating habits, which was no longer an option as far as the snep cared; he hadn’t gone that far just to put his paws down and decide to stop, much less begin to question the effects of his weight pills. No, if he was starting to fatten up faster than before, then that was clearly something he’d just have to deal with, and by “deal with”, he of course meant act as if it wasn’t happening and keep eating just as happily and merrily as before. That this had profound effects on his life didn’t really matter, nor did the leopard give much thought to them, even when they began to seriously interfere with his ability to function on a daily basis; the important thing was, he was still getting bigger.
Every day, he’d wake up to the sound of his bed’s springs groaning underneath the onslaught of his body, making a mental note to buy a replacement mattress after he heard the inside of his current one breaking in multiple places. Every day he’d have a hard time rolling out of bed, with his blubbery self jiggling and wobbling almost uncontrollably; at times he would outright flop onto the ground, then have to spend close to five minutes finding something to hold onto just to get back on his feet. Moving through doors became a chore, what with his belly getting stuck on the frames, and even something as simple as going to the bathroom took so much out of him that the snep was left sweaty and breathless, unable to even think straight after such an immense workout. But that was fine; this is what he wanted.
Clothing had begun to take a toll on his budget, though mercifully he could just redirect the money he would’ve spent in food towards getting custom-ordered shirts and pants; no store held anything in stock that could remotely fit him anymore, or at least not the ones near him, forcing him to make all of his purchases online. Even then, most of his stuff wouldn’t last for more than a few days before it began to either ride up his torso or cut into his waist, forcing him to keep constantly buying replacements; it would’ve been a matter for concern, but William was lucky to find a company willing to sponsor him, much like the local restaurants had, if only he agreed to be part of their latest “plus size” marking campaign. The snep was elated at the prospect, and not just because that meant getting free stuff; having others lay their eyes on him and admire the body he had built for himself was… surprisingly arousing, even if he was far too embarrassed to admit it to himself, much less say it out loud. Even then, his new generous patron had their hands full keeping up with his swelling waistline, and at times the snep was left wondering if they’d just drop him after it became too unwieldy. But that was fine; this is what he wanted.
Getting out of his apartment cost him more and more each day, until he began to seriously consider the option of simply… not leaving. It’d be terrible for his sponsorships and backroom deals with the local restaurants and diners, but perhaps he could do something with a webcam feed and a dedicated website or something of the sort; all he knew was that the constant to and fro of getting out of his house and into the elevator on the other end of the hallway was starting to beat the breath out of him, to say nothing of how he was getting so heavy that he was approaching the damned thing’s weight limit. Soon enough, the snep would be unable to leave by virtue of the elevator not working at all, because there was no way in all of the seven hells that he’d be taking the stairs. But wasn’t that exactly what he wanted? To be so immensely girthy, so colossal and tubby, that doing things that others did with minimal hassle cost him an arm and a leg? This was why he had taken the pills to begin with, so clearly now he had to deal with the consequences; in fact, he didn’t so much care about being stuck in his house as much as he did having to pay for food again. But that was fine; this is what he wanted.
These were the words he kept repeating to himself, past the point where he could barely move without external assistance. Much to his surprise, his sponsors had decided to splurge out a bit and send people over to help with his daily needs; the amount of business he had generated purely by being associated with their brand had brought in enough money to justify them keeping a small team of assistants on the payroll purely to let the snep carry on with his life, with the secondary goal of encouraging him to keep fattening up even more. With a series of streams broadcasting to restaurants around the city, a whole show being filmed around him based on his gains, and his money woes effectively solved for the foreseeable future, William could focus completely on eating. Eating and eating and eating until he easily breezed past the eight hundred pound mark and raced to meet the glorious thousand, knowing full well that, at that point, there would be no turning back; as soon as he got too fat to move, he’d just start scarfing down food endlessly, continuously, until he turned himself into a soft ball of snep pudge.
But that was fine.
This is what he wanted. |
It was time. With their living arrangement being what it was, it was really only a matter of “when”, not “if”; as much as Athora and Aurora insisted that their relationship was purely one of friendship, it wasn’t exactly hard to see that the two of them harbored significantly deeper feelings for one another than they were wont to let on. It was obvious to anyone that bothered to take even a passing glance at how they interacted with one another, and though it was just as clear to the two of them as well, neither of them really dared to take a step in the right direction; it was too much of a commitment, they liked to convinced themselves, too large a step for them to take… that is, until Aurora finally caved in to her own rational side and figured it was time she had a talk with Athora about how she felt about him.
Granted, a lot of it came down to just how radically different the two were from one another: Athora was your average young man whose sole claim to fame were the tall jokes that came with him being about six feet tall, while Aurora was… more. Significantly more, in fact, and even more so than she let on; an accomplishment, given that she presented herself as a twenty-foot dragoness with curves for days and a bust large enough to utterly crush anyone she could call a lover, to say nothing of her musculature being well-developed enough that it was entirely possible for her to bend steel girders entirely by accident.
Most of the time, she justified this by claiming it was all part of her draconic heritage; other dragons were similarly massive, so it wasn’t that hard for her to come up with some nonsense excuse about coming from a “big family” or something similar. In reality, however, Aurora held within her a spark of power far greater than anyone could imagine, one that connected her directly to the divine, one that made her far more than she was to everyone’s eyes; were the dragoness to unleash her true form, the one she didn’t spend a significant amount of her energy maintaining, the end result would be a significant chunk of the planet getting wrecked by her physical ascension, to say nothing of the effects it would have on a populace being given undeniable evidence of the presence of a goddess among them.
And while most of the time Aurora was content with hiding this facet of herself, Athora made her doubt her decision to keep doing so, at least from him; it felt wrong, in a deep and visceral way, for her to lie to him in such a brazen manner, every single day they spent together. It felt like a breach of trust more than anything, given that Athora himself had already shared a few of his deepest secrets with her in moments of confidence, while she had to carefully curate what she revealed about herself in order to keep her divine nature a secret… but not anymore. She couldn’t stand it, she wouldn’t stand it, and thus the dragoness resolved to get it done and over with: she was going to sit Athora down in front of her and let him know everything about who she was, what she was, and everything that she was capable of. She would let him know that the body he had grown comfortable enough to snuggle with was nothing but a fraction of her real self, and that it would be nothing short of an honour for her to be able to share a fraction more with him, and only him.
Granted, none of it would be delivered in such grandiose and poetic a form; by the time the two of them sat down in the living room, Aurora was a nervous mess who could barely keep her knees from wobbling, needing to holding them down with her hands after sitting down cross-legged. Athora, for his part, was just confused about what all of the talk of a “big reveal” was about, though given the way they thought of one another, a large part of him immediately picked up on what was about to happen; still, he said nothing, did nothing, and obediently sat there listening to the dragoness trying to start up what was supposed to have been an easy declaration of love. What followed were a confusingly paced ten or so minutes where Aurora tripped over herself so much that, by the end of it, all she’d managed to say was that she was very lucky to have someone like Athora in her life, and that she had something important to tell him, leaving her back at square one… until Athora asked a fateful question, that is:
“‘Rora, is everything alright? Did I do something wrong?”
That did the trick. How could that wonderful man even think that he’d done anything wrong? He was perfect in every single way, that much Aurora wanted to let him know; almost as if by instinct, she immediately picked him up and held him close enough to her bosom that the poor man had to be to be released just so he could breathe, after which the dragoness broke into a series of apologies before taking a couple of deep breaths, exhaling as slowly as she could, and finally laying it out in as obvious a fashion as she could: she didn’t just like him, she was in love with him; she wanted to be with him for the rest of their lives, she wanted them to never be away from one another, and nothing would make her happier than him being by her side, as a peer, as a lover, as a better half. But that, on top of it all, he should know that she was not truly a dragoness, at least not in the sense that others were; rather, that her blood was divine, that her body was a fabrication, and that her inexplicable power came not from lucky genetics, but from her connection to the celestial realms.
This was handily proven by having her unleash a fraction more of her true self, reaching a truly enormous thirty feet in height (forcing her to hunch over even more to avoid the ceiling) while adding so much extra mass onto her curves and muscles that Athora was left red-faced and with his pants seriously tight. He didn’t know what to say; it was so much all at once that the only thing he could think to do was nod along and let Aurora know that he’d known all along, and that yes, he was just as happy to be with her as she was to be with him. All he could do was open his big, stupid mouth, and through blubbering tears let his “precious ‘Rora” know that he loved her more than he could properly express, and that her mere presence was often enough to make even the shittiest of days feel like the best ones in his life. All he could do was throw himself at her, so pathetically tiny in comparison yet feeling like an absolute colossus, to let her know that he didn’t care whether she was divine or not; she was Aurora, she was his Aurora, and that was all that mattered to him, nothing more.
For the goddess herself, the ensuing rush of emotional responses was… hard to process, to be quite honest. If on one hand she wanted to cry her eyes out for having Athora respond so positively to something that had left her so emotionally frazzled just thinking about, on the other the dragoness goddess wanted to burst with childish glee at having been so accepted so readily by someone who could’ve just as easily turned around and run out the door after being confronted with her true nature. It was a volatile mixture, to say the least, hence why the giantess’ first reaction after Athora gave her his response was to pick him up again and unceremoniously shove him into her cleavage.
There was too much energy inside of her, it had to be unleashed; given the sort of things that happened when she lost control of her more deific side, being stuck in between a pair of tits that were, by then, bigger than he was, was oddly enough the safest option for Athora, even if the young man managed to get a single exclamation out to complain about it before being muffled by marshmallow. No sooner had Aurora managed to secure her beloved than her body began to change of its own accord, the rush of joy tapping into some primordial reservoir of divine energy and unleashing it into her form, flooding her very being with it. She could sense it: it was her true self, the one she kept hidden away from the world, the same one that held most of her power, now finally breaking through and forcing its way back into the same plane of existence that her smaller avatar inhabited… or, rather, she was becoming her true self yet again, unable to resist the allure now that she knew Athora would stand by her side.
It was hard to tell what was truly the case; what with her being too happy to care, it was easier to just go with the flow, even if this meant crashing through the ceiling in her biggest growth surge yet, turning most of their home into rubble in the process. It hardly mattered, given that Athora could just live on her if so needed; she was already too big for most places anyway, so really, the two of them having to make do with one another was an upgrade as far as the dragoness cared. That, and it was undeniably ecstatic to finally be freed from her proverbial larval stage; having to walk around being only twenty feet tall and merely having a bust of a size large enough to crush a large van might be more than most people could take, but for her? For her it was a constant disappointment, a reminder that she couldn’t truly be herself, for fear of being rejected.
Now though, now she had Athora; granted, he was too busy being smushed in her tits to really do or say anything, but he was there, he was alive, and his love for her was palpable (and quite literally at that, given how grabby his hands were being). So why hold back? Why not unleash her full form upon an unsuspecting world, bringing her height soaring close to the triple digits while the rest of her frame engorged in a similar fashion? A heavier bust for sure, larger and fuller tits that she may carefully safeguard her beloved Athora from any danger; he would be kept in between them, within a lullaby of warm, silky softness and loud, rhythmic sloshing, and he would experience blissful heaven. Add to that a bit more pudge to her rear, really pad out her figure just to make sure she wasn’t too top-heavy; plus, it gave her an excuse to thicken her thighs out before readjusting their muscle tone, and now that she had Athora to play around with, a little bit of thickness was sure not to hurt her.
Besides, once that was done, it was child’s play for the dragoness to once again re-sculpt her form, such that it not only matched her old one in terms of muscle tone, but surpassed it, all without sacrificing her distinctly curvaceous body plan. It was the perfect combination, as far as she was concerned… it just wasn’t big enough. Not yet, at least; she might be over a hundred feet tall, but that was nothing compared to what she was truly like. Athora deserved nothing less than her all, nothing less than herself at her full power, and for that, she needed to unleash every ounce of might she had kept away for all those years. Nevermind the fact that this turned their neighborhood into a combination of sawdust and pulverized plaster, or that most of its inhabitants found their way onto her body in one way or another; Aurora was, after all, a merciful goddess, and not about to sacrifice anyone upon the altar of her own ascension.
Anyone being the key-word, as property was fair game as far as she was concerned; why bother with houses and cars and highrises and office buildings and whatever else happened to be in her way, when there could just be more of her? Why bother with towns and cities when there could be Aurora, when there could be dragoness, so much of her that she didn’t so much compete with the local landscape as she became the landscape, transforming the local geography from a series of hills into one colossal, hyper-curvaceous dragoness leaking copious amounts of milk from a bust too large for her to carry around, yet one she effortlessly hefted regardless?
Sirens were blaring from every direction, the sheer panic of the little ones at this inexplicable growth spurt driving them to do such silly things as send fighter jets to try and bring her down, needing Aurora to gently swat them down from the sky while plucking their pilots from their fiery dooms, giving them a place to stay for however long they wanted. Entire cities would be uplifted onto her form, a paradise for any humble enough to accept her offer; though, of course, always reserving the best spot for Athora, for her beloved, for the one who had helped her realize she was so much better off simply being herself.
Only for him, her everything, her all, the one who so happily accepted her for who she was rather than turn around screaming or drop to his knees in worship; he would have the place of honour, right between her warm, milk-filled tits, for as long as he wanted to be there. He wouldn’t even need to eat or drink anything; she was a goddess, and as such she decided whether or not those around her had to consume anything in order to remain functioning. In Athora’s case, having to take breaks from being doted on in order to have a snack or a bottle of water would be a waste of time; thus, Aurora decreed that he should be able to stay there for however arbitrarily long was necessary.
It was only fair, after all, to give her better half the best treatment she could think of. It was only fair, that if she got to ascend and take so much of the world along with her as her form approached planetary scales, that the reason for her newfound confidence be given the best treatment possible. And when she reached her apex, when her form became that which it was meant to be, even when Athora was so tiny compared to her that the two wouldn’t be able to engage in more “traditional” intimacy… it wouldn’t matter. Because they had one another.
And that was all they needed. |
Better to get started as soon as possible rather than waste any more time looking at that damned thing and wondering whether he should be taking that step or not. He’d spent enough money that he shouldn’t be hesitating anyway, so every second spent not having his insides rearranged by a phallus bigger than his forearm was a second spent not fulfilling his destiny… at least, whatever counted as a destiny for the duration of a single night.
Morpheus gulped as he took that enormous dildo into his hands again, punching the correct combination of letters and numbers into the keypad at the very bottom in order to unlock the… special functions. He didn’t want to think too much about that either; he found that, the longer he spent trying to understand the logic behind it, as well as the repercussions for what he was about to do, the more he had to cajole himself into letting go and just savouring the moment. Really, the best thing he could do was just not think and instead simply act, leaving behind all doubt and sense of self-restraint.
Thus, he placed the synthetic shaft on the ground, then fastened the braces onto the floor as per the instructions on the manual. What he was about to do was going to take a great deal of effort on his part, and he didn’t need that thing slipping and sliding around while he was midway through a climax, or at least climbing towards one; why exactly the dildo came with so many straps, however, was a different question altogether, though not one the panda wanted to ask: once again, don’t think, just do, and worry about the consequences never.
Preparations took the better part of ten minutes, most of them spent trying to get his own hands to stop shaking so much in between bouts of nervous giggling and shivering shockwaves coursing through his whole body. He was close, he knew it, and he didn’t know how to react to that; part of him was aware that it was just another experience, but seeing as he was very much painfully aware of what was about to come next, Morpheus was having a hard time just filing it away as a mundane thing that happened, rather than a veritable dream come true.
Still, he somehow managed to figure out the straps, found his way through to the on switch, and when that thing began gently vibrating, all that was left was him lifting himself onto it and then letting gravity do the rest of the work.
Simple enough, though he couldn’t force himself to do it for the life of him. He wanted to, that much was a certainty, but he couldn’t; it was just too much, too great of a demand, for him to just… do it. He stood there, legs wide open, his tailhole just inches away from the tip of the rubber cock, his whole form shaking, quivering even, at the mere notion of what was to come.
It was so easy: just lower his legs until he felt himself being parted open, and surely muscle memory would kick in and take over from that point forward. He wouldn’t need to take anything other than the first step, with everything else just falling into place afterwards. Just… let his knees do what they were meant to do, and enjoy the show.
He gulped again. Hands on his asscheeks, Morpheus sunk his fingers into his pudge and very slowly pushed those two orbs apart, cheeks a bright red; those things were about to get a hell of a lot bigger once he took the (almost literal) plunge… so, why wait? Honestly, he’d gone that far, was he going to chicken out at the very last moment and not sit on that thing? How silly of him to think such a thing; of course he was going to slam his ass down on it and ride the damned shaft until his insides were on fire and yet further still! Was there ever any question to be had there?
Morpheus smiled, that time around a genuine gesture rather than one born of nervousness. Slowly, and carefully, he lowered himself onto the dildo, hoping to be able to control his descent; he even flinched once he felt the very tip of it begin to intrude on his insides, almost pulling out, but managing to keep himself from fully running off at the last minute. It was a process, and one that he was frankly quite used to; it was more so a case that this particular toy was far different from every other he’d used before, making it difficult to treat it just like any other.
For, rather than it just being a synthetic dick, it had a hidden property, locked away by the control panel he had inserted a special passcode into. Connected to the base was a small plastic container filled with a thick, viscous fluid that was not the usual stuff; it was a proprietary booster chemical produced by the same company that sold the full package, and one that was meant to, for lack of a better word, enhance the user’s natural curves in a very specific manner that Morpheus had been lusting after for what felt like years at that point.
Unfortunately for him, he wouldn’t feel it until he reached the base of the shaft; the toy was programmed to only release the compound once it felt a certain amount of pressure, both on the toy itself and the sensors at the bottom of it. Now, this could’ve technically been achieved by a very enthusiastic blowjob, but the panda figured it’d be better for him if he just sat down on it and let fate take the wheel.
Easier said than done, given how massive that thing was; by the time he was halfway done taking it, Morpheus was already silently begging for mercy as his ass began to beg for some rest, as even lube wasn’t enough to prepare him for such an… insertion.
Nevertheless, he carried on. He had to, otherwise he’d never be done with it; if he listened to what his brain was telling him, Morpheus knew full well he’d squirm out of that thing and then just waddle over to the couch, too scared to continue. No, he had to press the issue and proceed, further and deeper, until he felt a tightness and pressure inside him that, under any other circumstances, would’ve made him panic. There though? There it just signalled how close he was to the synthetic knot, just an inch or two away, already bumping into his tailhole, ready to slide right on in and provide a proper plug to keep all the chemicals in and prevent even the slightest amount of leakage.
It took some time, even with the rest of the dick inside of him, for Morpheus to force the knot itself into him; it was one thing to take the cock, another to commit to it and know he wasn’t going to get off of it for a while. Still, he’d gotten that far, so he might as well make it all the way, and with one final push, he slid the thick base of the phallus further in, spreading his tailhole wider still until, with one last bump, he was on the ground, feeling his cheeks on the floor.
Then, and only then, did a quiet whirring begin to fill his ears, and a warm liquid his insides.
Not cum though. He’d gone far past the point where he bought those kinds of toys, in favour of something far more exotic, far more transformative even; the effects became known almost immediately after the first release, with them turning out more pronounced the longer the small engine was allowed to pump the concoction into the panda’s body.
Morpheus didn’t know how it was supposed to work and was absolutely not interested in finding out; just as long as he was made fatter, then he had everything he could possibly need. The panda brought both hands to his belly, already feeling the rumbling growing within, already sensing the filling as the pressure rose and his stomach felt less like it was stuffed and more like it had been filled with hardened cement. It was only going to get worse as well; Morpheus had to stifle a moan by biting his lower lip when he remembered the whole process was designed to last for nearly ten full minutes before starting to slow down, and it was going to be one long wild ride until then.
He closed his eyes, shutting himself off from the outside world in preparation for the filling to come, allowing his senses to be focused inwardly. He could feel the warmth spreading upwards from where he was speared on the rubber phallus, filling up, occupying every inch of available room, almost like the liquid was expanding in volume to occupy any empty space it could find. Morpheus, meanwhile, had to deal with his body fattening in a way that made it look like someone had attached multiple hoses to him, turned on the tap, then ripped it off and left him there at the mercy of fate; rather than a series of jumps, he could see himself slowly expanding in every direction, filling like a thick, meaty balloon.
The weight as well began to hit him, even if he had to focus on it before he could properly take it in. Sitting on the ground with ample leverage, it wasn’t as if he was ready to tip over from his overslung belly or his colossal asscheeks, so all he had left was the faint sensation of gravity pulling all of him down, and how much it was increasing the longer the filling continued.
Overall, it was more akin to a sense of presence: the fatter he was made out to be, the bigger the became, the more room he took, and the more of himself there was; soon enough he would feel as if he were a vast, wobbly waterbed, begging silently for anyone to please come and lie on him, purely so he could see how large he truly was.
Immobility came soon enough, yet still too late; it taunted him, promised a great many things that it could never deliver, leaving the panda hanging on by a thread. He could still move, in the start; he could very well have lifted himself off that synthetic cock and stopped the whole thing before it had a chance of getting any worse, with enough effort; but as the seconds ticked away, and he packed on pound after pound of pudge, the amount of energy needed rose ever higher, until it climbed to levels that Morpheus simply didn’t have within him. After a minute or so, he wasn’t able to get up anymore, even if he did want it-
-which he most certainly did not. By that point, his lower body had oozed outwards in such a way that it had become alike a throne, a massive pile of fat rolls stacked onto one another, such that it was almost impossible to tell where his waist ended, his ass began, or where it all turned into hip or thigh. It was one huge platform of fat, growing ever rounder and more massive with each moment, pushing the upper half of Morpheus closer and closer to the ceiling; this was one thing he genuinely hadn’t predicted, that he might actually feel cramped after being made to fatten up! He’d picked the living room for a reason; to think that even that might turn out to be insufficient… well, he couldn’t turn back now, could he?
Even if he had half a mind to do so, how was he supposed to lift what felt like a literal ton of himself? And with his ass being so immense that his asscheeks were probably big enough to crush a whole couch, he wouldn’t be able to get that dildo out of himself either; not only would it more than likely be brought along with him, but his stubby little arms were utterly incapable of reaching over and pulling it out. It was far likelier that he’d end up toppling forwards and slamming against the ground, never to get back up again, so why not skip that unpleasantness and just remain seated?
Just remain seated and bloat, filling up a larger area of the floor with every passing moment, until the very notion of motion because something of the past. Why bother moving at all? And not just taking a step or leaning in any direction, but just moving, period: anything from slight readjustments of his seating arrangement to merely turning to look at something should all be thrown in the bin, replaced with complete and total immobility. As his frame engorged, so too did it become easier to achieve this state; past a certain point, all that was required of him was for the panda to keep breathing, and the rest would just sort itself out.
Thus, just two or so minutes after the fattening began, Morpheus had already given up even thinking about what came next. Whatever did, it was certain to be good; he was already adrift in an ocean of his own blubber, so what more could he ask for? What more could he possibly want aside from the continuation of what was already there at his fingertips… and quite literally, given how the fat was being deposited around his arms and torso?
His hands weren’t so much immobilised as they were enveloped, first around the wrist, then completely, with panda pudge wrapping around them until they were stuck in a small alcove which itself, too, would close up in short order. The same happened with his paws down below, vanishing from sight as they were swallowed by his expanding frame.
Wouldn’t take long before he felt himself creeping up against the walls, but by then, there was little left of his ability to perceive the outside world. Morpheus had progressed to a stage where all he knew was himself, his own inner sensations, the sensory feedback that came from having a body big enough to need his whole brain on pleasure processing just to deal with the backlog. Sure, maybe he was going to end up filling the entire living room, maybe he’d even break down the walls themselves and need repairs afterwards. Maybe he’d keep growing until the whole building was on the verge of collapse before the ten minutes were up and the growth stopped; he hadn’t considered that possibility before, but it was certainly there now.
Or would be, if Morpheus was still there to think it, as opposed to being buried underneath enough pudge and blubber that he could barely breathe in without being intoxicated. Maybe eventually he’d find a way out of it; after all, the effects were supposed to be temporary.
Weren’t they? |
Another day at the gym and Darius already knew that it was going to be a good one; lots of newcomers there for him to impress, and most of the more obnoxious regulars decided to take a day off and go bother people somewhere else. Made for a wonderful atmosphere when he could walk up the stairs from the locker room and greet everyone along the way without having to worry about insulting their presupposed manliness or unfounded belief that the whole bodybuilding thing was some form of competition; the Blaziken knew very well that the point of it was just to have fun, to share in a hobby that made people happy about themselves and proud of their bodies! It always bothered him when others didn’t see it this way, especially given the amount of rivalries that got kicked up because of it.
Thankfully though, that day was going to be different, and not just because all the jerks were away. Darius had been contacted by a potential sponsor, a company that specialized in high-grade sports drinks for professional athletes and was looking for a brand new poster boy for their latest marketing campaign. After his latest stint in a photo shoot for a bodybuilding magazine, the fire-type attracted their attention, and was given quite the sweet deal: participate in a trial run of their newest “enhancer” drink, allow them to take before and after pictures, and he’d be getting a fat load of cash, no strings attached. Pretty simple, pretty delectable, and it gave Darius more of a reason to hit the gym; he was promised an extra cut if he could personally refer people to the company as well!
The drink itself was nothing special in terms of flavour, though the lemon was strong enough that it made his tongue sting and recoil in fear. He practically spat it out the first time he tried it, but learned to expect the impact and avoid the worst of his wincing; wouldn’t want people to think it tasted awful, after all. Once the bottle was emptied, it was back to business with him, and much like every other day, he started next to the weights rack. It was the perfect place to scout out whoever was present at the gym at any one time, thanks to its position offset to the center of the room; conveniently, it also gave everyone who walked into the building a good look at the mountain of rippling musculature that was Darius, who was more than happy to show off whenever he noticed anyone staring for more than five seconds. His favourite was whenever anyone noticed the white droplets constantly dripping from his nipples; newcomers never expected those colossal pecs of his to be filled in addition to being solid as a rock, making the few instances where he got to fill up a glass with his own milk and down it in one go some of the best moments of his gym life.
That day though, he felt a bit… off. Things were perfectly fine until he actually started lifting some of the weights, after which he noticed an odd tingling sensation spreading from his hand, up his arm and then throughout his body. He should’ve been alarmed, and indeed some part of him found it distressing, but the overwhelming sensation his brain was registering was a highly misplaced sense of calm that he couldn’t quite explain; like things were actually pretty fine and he should just keep going. They would fix themselves if he kept going. He knew that. He thought.
It took a newcomer approaching him, having been told to by one of the personal trainers, for Darius to realize something was wrong. The poor guy probably wanted to ask him for some tips, perhaps even for a more personal touch if the Blaziken could spare the time, and instead what he got was a bicep to the face. Not intentionally, but by sheer virtue of being too close to it once Darius lifted the weight he was holding one more time; not only did his veins throb harder than usual, pockmarking the surface of his body even through the covering of soft feathers, but his flesh expanded outwards the longer he kept his muscles tensed up, resulting in his right arm’s musculature becoming visibly larger than the one on his left… that is, of course, until the tingling became more pronounced and the rest of his body followed suit, resulting in a shockwave of bulging flesh that expanded outwards from his right shoulder and only stopped once it reached his feet, leaving Darius so much larger that the bench he was sitting on began to groan from the sudden increase in weight!
The Blaziken didn’t notice this right away, being more concerned with the accidental assault he just committed. He tried to get up, to help the man he’d pushed over without even realizing it, when he hit the top of his head against the ceiling. This was enough to knock him out of his funk; Darius knew that it would happen someday, as he was quite tall already, but he was reasonably certain he had managed to walk around just fine a few moments ago. Only then did he look down at himself and let loose a quick yelp, attracting everyone’s attention to the suddenly-larger hunk inspecting every inch of his brand new body, as if trying to make sure it was there at all. Darius couldn’t believe what was happening, mostly because he already had a hard time moving around at home as it was; how was he supposed to do so now?! Ark was gonna kill him!
Taking a few deep breaths, he attempted to calm himself, only to become acutely aware of how massive his chest had become in the growth spurt. Not only could he feel his hardened flesh rising and falling each time he filled his lungs, he could hear it as well, the soft groaning and creaking of muscle as it struggled with its own size and weight. It was a lot more alluring than it had any right to be, enough that Darius couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if there was… more. His eyes moved to the side, where the weights rack was, and suddenly he wasn’t seeing a bunch of individual objects, but one big thing that he could grab and lift over his head. Perhaps, he thought to himself, the same process that made him that towering pillar of musculature could be repeated. Perhaps, he thought to himself, he could make it better.
The poor guy that got hit by the bicep was pushed out of his mind as quickly as it had butted in, leaving nothing but this odd and entirely uncharacteristic desire to push his limits and see where he could take them. Not for the sake of competition of course, he wasn’t that far gone, but he still found himself unable to resist the allure of going… further. Of truly testing his body and figuring out if the sudden burst of size was a fluke, or something he could rely upon. He bent down, grabbing the rack again, and with some effort succeeded in lifting the whole thing off from the ground and as far up as he could go without needing to break through the ceiling. He held it there for a few seconds, waiting for something to happen, and for those brief, dreadful moments, he was convinced he wouldn’t be growing any bigger that day.
That is, of course, until his body stopped playing pranks on him and began expanding all over again. Like a delayed reaction, he felt himself burst forth with renewed size and strength, inflating like a lead-filled balloon as not only did his frame occupy more and more space, but it placed an increasingly heavy weight on the floor beneath him. Darius began to worry about the possibility of falling through it; the showers and locker rooms were built underneath the main gym area, and though he didn’t know just how thick the floor was, he was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be making those noises. The whole building was rumbling just from him breathing in, and it wouldn’t take more than a few seconds for his back to be flattened against the ceiling, with Darius having to bend over almost ninety degrees just to stop himself from producing an all-natural skylight. All in all, very cramped, and not nearly enough.
Moving was difficult, practically impossible without damaging some equipment, but at least everyone else in the main room was smart enough to move out of the way before he got close. They took one look at the expression stamped on the Blaziken’s face and accurately deduced that they were better off not getting in between them and whatever peaked his interest, which after the racks turned out the be the large pile of metal disks used for the weights benches; the sum total of their mass would probably provide enough of a challenge for Darius, probably enough that he could trigger another growth burst, because frankly, by that point, it was all he could think about. That and how much it impacted those around him; he loved to see others fawning over his form, doubly so when it served as an incentive for them to work on their own, and the way the tiny ones around him were looking up at the towering pillar of power that was Darius… it pressed a lot of buttons, to say the least.
Very few dared to get close, let alone do something as daring as touch him, but surprisingly enough it turned out to be one of the new guys who summoned up the courage to do more than stare and look vaguely (or not so vaguely) aroused at the sight. They didn’t do much besides rubbing their hands all over one of the Blaziken’s legs, but it was enough to get Darius all excited about the possibilities; maybe, if he worked out hard enough, he could be so big that everyone in there could fit on a single leg! Maybe, if he truly put his all into it, the building itself would be the next thing he lifted, and goodness knows where he could go from there. All of these thoughts and more swam in front of his eyes for so long that Darius completely missed the pile of weights and ended up hitting his head on the far wall… just not the one on his shoulders.
Took him a few seconds to realize what had just happened, after which his cheeks somehow managed to grow even redder than they already were; he’d been so busy fantasizing about what would happen to him that he failed to notice his body responding in much the same way it always did when he allowed his mind to wander like that. Not only were his shorts a thing of the past (probably something that happened even before, to be fair), but the floor had quite the large imprint on it from the immense cumtanks he was dragging behind him, to say nothing of the rod of turgid cockmeat sprouting just above them. It was about as long as he was tall, making it surprisingly difficult to navigate now that he had to worry about waving that thing around every time he turned his torso from side to side. Clearly, there was only one solution, especially given how much his back was hurting.
Though it took quite a bit of effort, Darius slid to the side and then flipped over, flattening several pieces of equipment underneath him when his back crashed onto the floor, his hands already busy keeping his shaft as close to him as possible; allowing that monster to spring free would probably result in a brand new hole in the ceiling… and plenty of flooding outdoors as well, given how much pre it was leaking already. Thankfully, all of his slick juices were perfect lubricant for what he was thinking to do next, all inhibitions melted away and nothing left inside of his head but the need to find some degree of release; the pressure had only been climbing ever since the first growth burst, in more ways than one as well, and if he didn’t do something about that soon, it was going to turn into everyone’s problem.
Fortunately, he was strong enough to keep that beast under control, which for him meant having it squished up against his body and rubbed all over every inch of it that he could find. Naturally, this included getting that thing stuck between his pecs, quite the achievement given how thick and wide every part of him was, but it wouldn’t be a good day unless he had an opportunity for a self-pecjob... and one on such a scale as well! His nipples were already flowing freely with their milky content by the time his shaft touched his chest, and the flood only got worse the more he tried to force his cock into the tight embrace of his pectorals; meanwhile, the crowd that had gathered around him grew bolder still, with a few even going so far as to directly drink from the fountains of white cream protruding from their new idol’s chest. Darius wanted to encourage them, to let them know that it was ok, but was sadly too busy moaning throatily as wave after wave of pleasurable overload hit the pleasure centers of his brain with no regard for his sanity, leaving him, in all respects, a complete wreck.
But it was still good; more than good in fact, judging from how everyone was jumping in, eager to get a good handful of Darius’ body while they still could. He did nothing to stop them, hoping that would be enough to let them know he more than welcomed their tender caress, even if the one pair of hands that he truly wished for was still far away, at work, and unable to come visit him. That was ok though; he’d meet them later.
For the time being, Darius was content in focusing on his own personal enjoyment, all while the rest of the gym-goers got busy finding a part of him that they could dote on. Having to carry all of those tiny ones did a number on his size too, with his muscles bulging out again the more he writhed around trying to get the best possible angle for his pecjob. It wasn’t surprising that his head bumped against one side of the room while his feet hit the opposite wall… lengthwise as well; after all, it was just the logical endpoint for the sports drink. Suddenly, calling it an enhancer made plenty of sense, and somewhere inside Darius’ head, underneath the enormous pile of mindless, carnal enjoyment that dominated his psyche, he made a note to thank the company for the opportunity.
And to ask them for more. |
Another day dawned, and with it the promise of yet more food to be happily devoured. Honestly, agreeing to the transfer was probably the best thing she’d ever done; no more having to sprint to catch her meals, now she had them delivered to her on a silver platter (and almost literally at that) while the visitors got to throw extra treats at her in order to amuse themselves. In exchange, all the cheetah had to do was look half-ferocious, half-cuddly, something that barely required any real effort at all; being gifted with such natural beauty as she was, all that she needed to do was sit majestically and everyone would let out a collective “D’aww” while proclaiming their intense need to pet their fuzzy ears. All in all, an easy crowd, and an easy job; she honestly couldn’t understand why some of her friends had decided to go back to the savannah just because they could feel the “thrill” of the hunt. Fuck the thrill of the thunt, this was the life!
Sadly, there was a slight price to pay for the convenience of having everything done for her, and that was her natural-born athleticism. As much as the zoo staff had arranged for whatever amenities were necessary to “simulate” her old habitat, the chee didn’t really… use them. Not anymore at least, not after realizing that a couple of walks around the enclosure every day were enough to keep her going; said staff tried to convince her that it was good for her health, but if she were concerned about that, she wouldn’t have stayed in there, now would she? No, the cheetah much preferred lounging about doing nothing all day, occasionally walking up to the chain link fence and purring for extra treats; as a result, her body had become slightly rounded out around the edges, significantly more than it had been when she first arrived. While the big cat was happy to pretend like it was just an extra bit of bulk that no one had to worry about, in reality, such a “minor” change hid a much larger and radical alteration to the chee’s way of thinking.
Over the course of her stay there, her predatory instincts had fallen into complete disrepair, replaced by what could only be described as complacent gluttony and smug self-superiority, which somehow only endeared the zoo-goers even more to her. They adored her preening, her sashaying, the way she walked about the enclosure and around the other cheetahs like she owned all of them, despite them being on terrible terms; this, in turn, only worsened her state, until the chee had more or less become entirely domesticated, and the mere concept of returning to the wild went from simply being unattractive to downright unthinkable. As a result, the feline had gone from a sleek huntress to… a rather fat, pudgy sausage that could barely sprint at all, let alone employ any of the chase tactics that her species was most known for. Maybe a past version of herself would’ve been upset at the fact that the main attraction was the “big chee” or the “fat cat”, but her current self couldn’t really be bothered to care in the slightest; just as long as the treats kept coming and the staff continued to feed her the same delicious, heavy meals, she could be immobile for all she cared.
A dangerous line of thought, given that her sense of self-control was all-but completely wrecked at that point, and if her feeding time was extended to cover the whole day, she absolutely would just keep scarfing down whatever they placed in front of her without really thinking about it. Eating had become less a conscious thing she did to survive and more of an automatic process, ruled more by muscle memory and less by hunger; as long as there was something on the plate, she’d eat it. As long as the visitors to the zoo extended their hands and waved around bits of meat for her to chow down on, she would dutifully do so. As long as there was something to help pad her stomach out, she would gladly take it. In the end, all of this added up to a very tubby cheetah that only got tubbier as the days went on, finding it increasingly difficult to even get up in the morning. It used to be that she only got tired after walking around for a couple of hours, but after a while at the zoo, the simple act of getting on all fours was enough to leave her shaking, sweating and dreadfully famished, which only contributed to her fall from grace… at least as far as the other cats in the enclosure were concerned. Honestly, she couldn’t be happier, and more often than not ended up picking a spot and laying there for the whole day.
Things, however, began to take a turn for worse when one of the zoo’s doctors decided to actually do their job and recommend that she be placed on a diet, along with a special supplement that would help her burn off the extra calories in her near-floor-dragging belly. Top notch experimental stuff, or so he claimed, that would deal with her “unfortunate indiscretions” in no time; the chee didn’t originally want to take it, being quite happy with the size and proportions of her body, but after being threatened with mandatory exercise time, she relented… and thank goodness she did, because the cat could not have been happier with the effects the supplement had on her body. Though it was supposed to act as a weight loss agent, something about her biology, or perhaps the compound itself, had turned it around on its head and produced the exact opposite result: within a few short days of her being placed on this new “diet” that was supposed to make her lose weight, she was barely able to walk from place to place with how much her underside was dragging along the ground, at times being so bloated that she could very much just go limp and use her stomach a body pillow. The zoo staff were at a loss, especially when they decided to stop using the supplement as an emergency measure and it only made things worse! It seemed as if that, without that thing to control her, each bite added inches to her body, regardless of how much she actually ate… but with the supplement, all it did was reduce it to a single inch. It made for an interesting conundrum, one so devilish and incomprehensible that the doctor responsible for it was sacked almost immediately after the side-effects were made obvious.
Meanwhile, the chee herself was having the time of her life, especially after she grew so fat that she had to be rolled over from her bed towards the enclosure, unable to use her own legs for locomotion. To say that the impact this had on people was severe would be an understatement, and yet, for some reason, the visitors just seemed to love her all the more for each pound she put on. While a few were concerned that she might be seriously ill, all the cheetah had to do was give them a wink and a purr for their minds to be put at ease, and before long the zoo itself had a brand new curiosity to market itself with. Her handlers were thus placed in the unenviable position of being forced to fix something that was bringing their employers a lot of money by being broken, something that caused so much internal strife that multiple people took the third option and just quit outright. All of this while the chee basked in the adoration of the crowd, even if some of the words thrown at her were less than nice and the people using them should be reminded of basic manners; just because she was a gluttonous blob didn’t suddenly mean that they could say whatever they damn well pleased. Besides, the insults were weak and lacked originality, so there; that would show them.
Things changed very quickly after the staff positions were refilled, as the zoo management had gone to great lengths to avoid hiring anyone that might have an issue with what had been happening to their star attraction. To be fair to them, her health hadn’t suffered at all… somehow. Despite barely being able to walk at all without someone there to push her, plus the fact that her paws were no longer able to reach the ground after a meal (and just barely did so in between them), nothing about her seemed to be working poorly; her heart was fine, were lungs were fine... really, the only thing that was abnormal about the whole thing was her colossal stomach, which had expanded far more than it should be able to and seemed able to process food at a ridiculously efficient rate, one that only got better (worse?) over time. Her new handlers were eager to feed her as well, which only helped to hasten how fat she was getting, and how much fatter each meal made her; wouldn’t take a long time before her being lifted off the ground became the new normal, and the chee had to sleep out in the enclosure after growing too big for her assigned room. Not that she minded, of course; it just meant she had more space to blob out in.
In the following days, the other cheetahs were moved out to a separate location, most of them more than happy to get out and away from “that fatty” as quickly as they could; some even terminated their contracts and had flights booked back home, having apparently learned a lesson about gluttony and taking all the wrong conclusions from it. The mountainous feline couldn’t help but wonder what sort of person would look at her and not want to be exactly like them; was it not the height of achievement to be so fat that one couldn’t even move anymore? Was it not the true mark of excellence that one could afford to let go of their natural instincts and just keep on gorging for as long as they physically could? She certainly seemed to think so, and in fact outright demanded that her handlers add a third meal to her daily schedule, to be given to her between lunch and dinner, in addition to a reinforced breakfast of course; before long, her paws were not only permanently lifted off the ground, but weren’t dangling freely either, as her enormous belly had bulged outwards so much that she could use it as a full-body pillow. It churned loudly at every minute of every hour, the sort of noises that could only be described as what would happen if hunger just never abated, and only grew more powerful whenever someone attempted to sate it… because that’s what the chee felt.
It had been subtle at first, but there was no denying that something was definitely “off” about the way that she experienced her ravenous appetite. It used to be that she ate more than she needed purely out of gluttony, but now she wasn’t quite so certain; it had turned into far more of a need than a pure desire, and each hour she spent not devouring something, even if it was just a small treat on the part of the zoo-goers, was one that left her restless and wanting for… something, she wasn’t quite sure. It wasn’t until a good two weeks after every other cheetah had left, by which point the fat cat had grown so much that her belly alone was taller than the average human, that she fully realized that what she was feeling was not normal, even by her incredibly stretched-out standards. The chee found herself sweating at the mere notion that a meal might be missed, or the thought that she’d have to go half an hour without eating or chewing on something; every bite she took was becoming less of an exercise in greed and self-indulgence and more of a desperate move on her part, an attempt at staving off a hunger that only grew stronger the more food was thrown at it. Her body was starting to react accordingly as well, with each mouthful adding several times more fat to her than it should, leaving her torso attached to a stomach that gurgled and groaned painfully no matter how full it got, no matter how big it got.
Soon, she found herself unable to vocalize anything other than desperate pleas for help, only abated when someone stuffed something edible in her mouth, at which point her eyes would roll upwards into her skull and that serotonin hit left her feeling woozy and so satisfied that it felt more like a drug addiction than anything else. Then the food would be swallowed, inches would be added to the circumference of that colossal gut, and the process would start all over again; more and more of the enclosure vanished underneath her mounting size, and yet the larger she became, the hungrier the cheetah felt, an unstable equilibrium that, try as she might, she did not have the willpower to fight. Maybe at some point in the past, when she hadn’t been a literal blob of fat that had to be rolled around to be cleaned or transported… but not now. Not ever again.
Of course, the zoo staff weren’t in any rush to help her, at least not in any sane way. If anything, they only laid it on thicker, throwing more and more food at her the more she complained, hoping to see if there was some kind of tipping point after which she’d just stop bloating; when it didn’t arrive, they changed strategies altogether, and arranged for a more… permanent solution. It was the best day of the chee’s life, actually, when she saw that vacuum pump be wheeled into her enclosure and a whole pressurized tank full of feedstock be hooked to it, a worker climbing on a ladder to strap a facemask to her that just happened to have a feeding tube attached to it. With the flick of a switch, the whole assembly rumbled into action, the tube began vibrating, and a few seconds later the chee was in heaven. The pumping rhythm had been adjusted so that she could very easily allow her mouth to be filled up completely before swallowing a whole load, which tasted of an odd, but pleasant mixture of beef and pork with some extra bacon thrown into it, again and again and again, for as long as she wanted to; whenever the tube began to grow empty, it’d just be replaced, an unending parade of workers ready and waiting to make sure that her every need was met. There were no more worries there for her, just food, now and forever.
She’d never have to move ever again. |
Andy was left panting like a tired animal by the time he felt himself come down from his high, and even that wasn’t enough to dissuade him from his chosen course. Anyone else would’ve stopped several go-arounds before, but not him; he was determined to keep going until either he broke or the bed did, and even if the latter were to happen he wasn’t exactly certain he’d be willing to call it quits right afterwards. After all, why stop when the whole situation was designed for him to indulge himself with no apparent limit? It’d be criminal to let go of a gift like that.
It started off earlier that day when, by absolute happenstance, he happened to say the word “bigger” thrice in one sentence. It wasn’t particularly well-constructed and he ended up sounding like an idiot for forgetting what a synonym was, but it had the fortunate side-effect of triggering some kind of autonomic response that led to his body growing. That was about it, really; he found it hard to believe himself, but after his biceps ripped through his shirt’s sleeves and his cock outgrew his shorts, there were very little doubts that something odd was taking place. He had confirmation once he mused aloud about how much “bigger” he was, and felt yet another spurt hit him right after saying that word. Sensing an opportunity that wouldn’t repeat itself in a million years, he raced away from a very worried Rebecca and straight to their bedroom, locking the door behind him and throwing the tattered remnants of his clothing onto the ground before hopping on the bed. Once there, things became very repetitive.
One hand on his cock, another cupping his nuts, and both them squeezing as hard as they could without it being painful, the former also pumping his shaft with as much strength as he could spare. The sheets were quick to turn into a mess, not just thanks to all the pre and cum he was leaking all over the place, but the way his claws dug into both it and the mattress; with his body becoming both larger and stronger with each growth burst, it didn’t take a lot of effort for the bed to be torn into pieces, and even then that wasn’t enough to make Andy regret his choices. He was still lying there, still looking down at a body that was far bigger than it used to be, barely recovered from the beating he put himself through, before he swallowed dryly and spoke another word in a raspy, wheezing tone:
“Bigger.”
Again he felt the by-then all-too familiar sense of pressure rising inside of him, as if air was being pumped into his every pore and everything inside of him was made to expand outwards. But there was nothing light about that; what his body was adding onto itself was raw muscle and mass, growing so heavy that the springs underneath him, the ones that hadn’t already been shredded, began to creak ominously from the strain. He got to experience his cock growing larger underneath his grasp, outpacing the rest of him just enough that he could tell he’d end up more well-endowed by the time things were over; similarly, his orbs were becoming increasingly more difficult to hold back as their productivity rose, enough that his shaft was now constantly leaking whether he touched it or not. His fur, previously well-kept and washed, was now a mess of sweat and his own emanations, the scent of musk heavy in the air, driving him even further into growth-based madness.
With his own body groaning and his muscles rippling as they bulged unto themselves with renewed mass, even Andy couldn’t take it; his arms fell by his side, his legs collapsed onto the bed (and over the edge, seeing as how big he was) and his chest heaved with each breath taken. It was almost like his very size was beginning to turn on him, with him needing so much more oxygen that every time he tried to inhale it just wasn’t enough. Lightheaded and dizzy, it took him quite a bit to return to normality, his face pale and Rebecca’s worried voice coming from the other side of the door. In that moment he had a choice to make, one that would decide where things went from that point forward; he was already significantly larger than normal, and if he stopped there he’d still be able to give the love of his life the kind of attention she could only ever dream of. His musculature was perfectly-defined, his body was ripped to all seven hells and that shaft he sported between his legs was something close to oversized. In all honesty, he could very well end it and not have to ever care anymore. Which is why he opened his mouth.
“Bigger.”
He could barely get through that one word before it turned into a pained grunt, his back arching as the sensations hit him stronger than ever before. The fox had his tongue loll out from his mouth, a trickle of drool falling from it down onto his neck, his eyes fluttering close just seconds before they rolled upwards into his skull. Andy surrendered himself to what he was going through, no longer caring if he was in control or not; all that mattered was growing bigger, feeling his body occupy more and more of the bed, hearing it groan under his weight and struggle to keep up with it. One of his hands absentmindedly went to his stomach, only to make the sensory feedback worse once he got to feel his abs and how well-defined they were; his body was reorganizing itself to make those things even harder than before, and he could practically feel his mass shifting underneath his touch just so it could do that. With another hand he went for his arms, where he got to feel his biceps expanding in real-time, until they’d been left so engorged he couldn’t even encompass them all with a single palm.
By the time the spurt was done and over with, the bed’s frame was just about ready to give up and shatter completely, leaving him one poorly-chosen movement away from crashing onto the ground. Wouldn’t be that much of a fall, but mattresses weren’t exactly cheap; besides, he had absolutely no incentive to grow even larger, seeing as his feet and lower legs were poking out the far end of the bed when his back was firmly propped against the frame on the other side, giving him a wonderful view of just how massive he’d become. It was enough for him to bring his hand to his rod once again, idly stroking it just to feel how responsive it had become; true to how sensitive it looked to be, indeed it reacted to every touch with about as much reservation as inflamed skin, leaving him to wince just by touching it with the tip of his fingers. Upon grabbing hold of its girth properly, Andy had to bite back a roar from the climax that ensued, though thankfully his being on edge became significantly more tolerable after that bedsheet-ruining gout of cum erupted from his tip; maybe he was just backed up and that was his body’s way of letting him know, seeing as he did feel a lot better afterwards. So much better, in fact, that he could almost go for seconds.
“Andy?” Rebbeca called out from the hallway outside, “Are you alright in there?”
He really wasn’t. In fact, there was an argument to be made that the vixen should probably burst in and pin him down using as much duct tape as she had on hand, because Andy was not in the right state of mind to make decisions for himself. All he wanted was to grow even more, to destroy the bed and then the room, and not only did he have the motive and opportunity, he had the means to do so without having to expend anything more than time and his own breath… which, to be fair, was becoming quite shallow given how much air he had to intake just to keep his system running. Nonetheless, the mattress still wasn’t on the ground, so there was only one way forward:
“Bigger!”
The shout came and with it so did he, spurts of cum erupting from his tip at about the same time as his cock grew to match his new size, the wooden frame the couple’s bed was built on rapidly cracking underneath the strain, until it finally gave in and shattered down the middle, sending Andy careening towards the floor. The bump was barely noticeable to him, given his head was practically glued to the ceiling already; what were a few inches to a budding giant? All it did was give him a convenient excuse to go even wilder, both hands on his shaft and pumping it with as much strength as he could muster. Given that his stamina was shot full of more holes than a wheel of swiss cheese, it didn’t take a lot of effort for him to reach climax again, seemingly gifted with either the ability to orgasm multiple times in a row, or a seriously reduced refractory period. Whatever the case, the wall in front of his ruined bed was being given a fresh new coat of white paint, covered from top to bottom in the fox’s spunk, while the wallpaper was being scratched off by his claws.
Only after the whole thing subsided did he have the time needed to take stock of his situation. His body was clearly far too big for his bedroom and house, easily about ten feet tall, if not more, and gifted with enough rippling muscles that he’d have a hard time touching anything without it falling apart; indeed, his attempts at pushing the nightstands away so he wouldn’t destroy those ended up with him holding onto broken pieces of wood and glass, looking quite sheepish for his size once Rebecca called him out for breaking something she picked out for their bedroom. His embarrassment only lasted for as long as it took for him to look at his body again, after which Andy’s libido shot right back up and infused him with so much raw energy that he had to wonder where he was even getting it from. Clearly, things were going to take a turn for the worse unless he did something about it, unless he put an end to his inexorable growth and behaved like a responsible adult. He turned his head to face the door, opening his mouth to call out for Rebecca so she could put some sense into things and guide him down a more productive path.
“Bigger,” he stated instead.
Even the vixen had to yelp and step back once she felt Andy’s surge begin to take place, the whole building rumbling as his body took even more space than it already did. Instinctively, the fox brought both hands above his head, pressing them against the ceiling in a vain attempt at holding it back; try as he might, he couldn’t stop his frame from becoming intimately acquainted with every inch of it, reducing him to a hunched posture and a very pained back once he was finally done growing, no longer capable of sitting comfortably within his own bedroom. At least it gave him convenient and quick access to his own shaft; the weird angle at which his head was at was perfect for him to open his mouth and just… let it in, accepting his throbbing, pulsating rod into his warm throat and allowing it to slide without a single care in the world. He could see why Rebecca loved doing it; now that he had a taste he didn’t know if he’d ever let her have a go anymore! It was powerful, overwhelming even, but left him with a desire for more than he just couldn’t explain, not without having to resort to some very painful analogies. The one thing he knew was that it wasn’t enough… but that posed its own problem.
To call for another growth spurt would mean being able to speak clearly, and being able to do so implied not having his own cock in his mouth. Now that he had it in there, not only was it mechanically difficult to extricate, but Andy didn’t really want to do it either, the sensations being simply too much for him to let go of. He tried to say something, tried to make the word “Bigger” work through the stuffing he had given himself, but it was worthless; the more he tried, the more he failed, leading to a rather uncomfortable situation whereby his mind was left in the middle of the crossfire between two mutually-exclusive desires. It certainly didn’t help that his next step would probably be the last in terms of still having a house at all, a third concern that added itself into the pot.
“Oh, screw this,” he heard Rebecca say, right before she kicked the door to the bedroom in and stood staring at him, eyes wide open and mouth gaping in shock, “Andy, what th-... what the fuck?!”
He truly, truly wanted to answer her, but nothing but a gurgle came out. Just as well, given that he had very little to share but his own emotions, which were somewhere in the realm of the “heavily indecent” at that stage. Thankfully, the vixen was at least smart enough to realize what was going on, or at least made a decent approximation of it, because her first instinct was to take her own clothes off and approach that colossal cock her partner was sporting.
“Fucking hell, you’re in here making yourself this massive and you didn’t invite me? The fuck’s wrong with you?” she complained loudly, climbing onto one of his legs, “Next time you do this I swear to God I’m going to bap you so hard that you’ll be feeling it for days.”
Andy smiled, a painful gesture for him given what he had in his mouth, but smiled nonetheless; there was the vixen that he knew, so eager to explore her own limits that she dauntlessly took control of the situation despite knowing she would be better served finding a way to get him to stop. In many ways, this was exactly why he was with her at all; she might turn subby at the first sign of dominance from him, but behind that willingness to play the role lay a truly indomitable personality that would go to great lengths just to indulge the two of them. And seeing how she seemed aware of what had caused the transformation in the first place…
“I suppose you can’t say anything with that cock in your mouth?” - Andy nodded, his eyes drooping - “Christ, you’re such a baby sometimes. Alright, I’ll take it from here…”
She cleared her throat.
“Bigger.” |
Callie to Collie A collaboration with Mal-and-Collie ‘Callie/Collie’ created by Mal-and-Collie and used with permission This story is canon. Character likeness and artworks owned by DeVergilia
“Hey, Callie! Don’t forget we’ve got that exam on weighted average cost on Monday!”
Callie waved back at her friend, “I won’t! Thanks for the notes!” She stuffed the photocopied notes into her bag and headed for her car. It wasn’t much, just a beat-up old Taurus, but it got her around.
Dumping the books and her bag in the backseat, she squirmed a bit as she settled herself into the well-worn driver’s seat. The car’s engine sputtered a bit as it came alive, but she felt relief as it cranked up. Eventually, it was going to die, and she dreaded that day. Still, she didn’t have time to think about it, she turned out of the lot, and headed for the mall.
Cars packed the lot, as always, and she fumed slightly at losing an unusually good space to some old bat who’d cut her off. Several circles of the lot later she had to concede defeat, and pulled her car into a space that she considered the middle of nowhere. She was glad that she’d opted for tennis shoes rather than strappy sandals, the walk was going to be a long one. Then again, she wasn’t really supposed to wear sandals at work anyway. Sighing a touch she grabbed her purse, locked the doors, and made her way in.
A bit warm from the walk she rolled into the store just a few minutes ahead of her shift. Just in time, she realized, to face the lunch rush. Before she could even clock in, she could hear her assistant manager’s voice screaming for her to get another register open.
Slipping her black hair into a pony tail she waded into the crazy fray of demanding old people and college students from the nearby campus. She blocked everything else from her mind and mechanically moved through the motions of ringing up orders with a jolly greeting for each new rude customer. It was a job.
*** *** ***
Exhaustion rolled over her, all the fake smiling took it out of her by the end of her shift. She clocked out, grabbing a bag of pretzel bites to go for her own, and wandered the mall for a bit looking for decent sales. It was a good way to just decompress a bit from the six hours behind the register. The pretzel place was never going to be her career, she was certain of that, but she did enjoy the smell of the fresh hot doughy treats. The people, on the other hand, she could do without them.
Finishing her snack, she tossed the wrapper in the trash and wiped her fingers on a napkin from her pocket. She’d ended up at the far end of the mall, an area she’d not been in much. The stores were more upscale than a lot of the rest of the mall, and it was quieter. Wandering, she passed through a couple stores, her fingers dragging longingly over lacy outfits wondering how they’d look on her. For the most part though she knew she couldn’t afford them on her salary, not even with the scholarships and her parent’s helping out with the bills.
Callie sighed. She should probably go home and study. Keeping those grades up took work, and it left too little time for anything else. She had to skip the annual anime con because of it. A pouting look crossed her face. Her boyfriend had gone alone, and all he’d brought her back was a shirt. He could have at least gotten her some decent swag. They’d had a fight last week, and now she wasn’t talking to him again. She’d forgive him at some point, but not quite yet. Slipping into one more store she heard a crisp, aristocratic voice address her.
“May, I help you mademoiselle?”
“Um, just looking, I guess.” She eyed the man. She’d never seen anyone at the mall dressed like him, not even the tux rental place. He was to the nines. Full coat and tails, a cummerbund, and a waxed mustache that would make a silent movie villain jealous. Not to mention his perfectly bald head that gleamed under the florescent lights. She had to stifle just a bit of a giggle at the image.
“Very good, mademoiselle.” He nodded rather stoically and returned to tending the counter.
She strolled into the store. “I’ve never seen this place before. What do you sell here?”
“We, here at the Boutique, sell specialty items that enhance the lives of our clientele. All our items come with special enhancement to ensure that you are satisfied with your purchase.” His crisp manner just added to the posh feeling goods around her.
She looked around at the lacy garments and clearly adult items throughout the store. “So, you sell sex toys?” She observed dryly.
“To put it succinctly, yes, mademoiselle.” The man’s buttoned up accent and mannerisms should have annoyed her, but she found it remarkably endearing. Still she couldn’t help being amused at the irony of meeting someone who was more a stuffed shirt than she was.
She gazed around at the numerous items on display. The prices were high. She looked at a teddy, and realized high didn’t even cut it. It was nearly a thousand dollars. She almost choked. “Wow, this place is really expensive.” “We only carry the finest items.” He said with pride.
“I don’t suppose you have anything on sale?” she asked, curiously.
He paused for a moment, as if thinking. “Actually, yes, we do. If you’d please follow me.” He turned stiffly and walked towards a corner of the room. She actually did giggle a little. He even walked like he had a stick up his ass.
A few small items sat laid out across a counter. They were an assortment of small items. Some cuffs, a few dildos, some nipple clamps, and a couple of collars. Maybe just one, she thought to herself. Something special for herself. She spent so much time studying or working, she really barely even had time for her on-again off-again boyfriend. She needed to relax. She thought about the possibility of some of the dildos, maybe something to get her to relax a bit. She was getting too much of an ice bitch reputation lately.
She passed over the black collar, the little bell on it reminded her too much of a cat. She wasn’t much of a cat person. There were two other collars, one a bright red and one a pale sky blue. “Ooh” she said as she picked up the blue one, it was her favorite color. It was thicker than the others, a heavy fabric collar with a thick D-ring and a small bone shaped tag. The stitching was impressive, and it certainly had the feel of something well made.
She wondered how it’d feel to let herself relax enough to parade around in this. To feel like she was free to not be the stuffy bitch she felt like she was becoming. All study, no play. “How much?”
“Ah, yes, that’s an older model, on clearance. For you? Just $75, with the mall employee discount.” He clearly hadn’t missed her work uniform.
Looking at the price tags around her, she realized that worked out to a 90% discount. Damn! She hadn’t splurged in a long time. The collar felt very right in her hands as she turned it over. Fishing out her debit card she handed it to the man. “I’ll take it.”
“Very good, mademoiselle, may I wrap it for you?” He asked, ringing through the transaction.
She nodded, and watched as he expertly folded it into a small box and placed a bow around it. A chill ran down her spine. Maybe after she forgave him again, she could see how her boyfriend liked it. Carrying the small package out with her, she made her way back to her car as the sun was setting. She set the box aside, and started for her small apartment.
*** *** ***
It was almost dark by the time she got to her place on the far side of the city. The summer crush of drivers had blocked several lanes of traffic with an accident and she’d been stuck for almost an hour as they cleared the wreck.
Carrying her books inside, along with her purse and the small box, she dumped most of it on her bed. Pulling out her phone she found that it’d died again. Just like her car it was an older model that desperately needed an upgrade. It chirped angrily at her as she stuck it on the charger. She chose to ignore its flashing red battery symbol that flashed accusatorily out at her.
She grabbed a quick instant cup of ramen and her economics textbook, and settled in on the couch to study for the upcoming quiz. The professor always had one on Fridays.
Her study session didn’t go as planned. The more she tried to concentrate, the more she found herself thinking about the box. She slammed the heavy text closed, frustrated at her lack of ability to concentrate. The empty ramen cup shook from the force. Maybe, just maybe, if she put the collar on, she’d be a good girl and could get her studies done.
She reached over onto her bed; the box felt heavy in her hands as she pulled the string that held it closed. It unraveled gracefully. The lid slid free revealing the sky-blue collar, its glinting tag, nestled inside. She fingered the material. It wasn’t soft, really, but it felt nice. Callie gently picked it up and undid the heavy buckle. The metal was cold against her skin. She wanted to wear it. No, she needed to wear it. She needed to be a good girl.
Callie realized she was breathing hard. Her breasts rising and falling as she trembled slightly. The collar slipped around her neck, her fingers mechanically buckling it on. The small metal tag shook, bouncing off her collarbone. She barely registered the faint flash that came with it, thinking it only a trick of the light.
Sighing, she enjoyed the feel of the collar. It felt right. Callie started to pick up her book again, but stopped. Her fingers looked odd. Shorter, a little thicker. She turned her hands over and saw her palms were growing darker, with thick calloused pads forming across them. It was spreading to the tips of her fingers too. She should have been scared, she should have been a lot of things, but she just watched as her carefully manicured nails growing out to thick heavy black claws. She flexed her hands, they felt different, but a good kind of different.
She’d set the book aside completely now. Her body demanded it. Her feet had started to cramp, and she pulled off her socks in time to watch her ankles shift, her foot elongating. Black claws slowly pushed outward on her toes now too. Swinging her legs over the edge of the couch. Her feet touched the floor, but even as she set them down, she realized her heels would never touch the ground as her feet forced themselves into a new angle.
“Oh my,” she said softly as the realization finally crept into her conscious brain, comprehending finally the dramatic changes that had happened to her hands and feet. Callie threw caution to the wind as her curiosity ran wild. Something in her just seemed to snap. She needed this. She wanted this. Her clothes hit the couch as she stripped, running her newly padded and clawed hands up and down her body. It felt nice, but the warmth in her was building. There was more. It was slow, but it was coming.
Callie rose unsteadily to her feet, trying to gain her balance. It felt like walking on her tip toes. She tottered a bit, but managed to make it into her bathroom just as her tongue began to loll from her mouth. Long and pink. She stared in the mirror, watching her nose darkening as it pushed forward into a muzzle. She actually gave a little growl as she felt her teeth and jaw shift outward, giving her a place to close in that long tongue. Involuntarily she licked her own nose, causing her to giggle. Her ears to had begun to morph, too. First standing higher up on her head, so much she thought she might be a rabbit for a moment, before they both flopped over, covered in silky black hair that matched her own. Her eyes, normally blue, glinted now in a golden brown.
Cute, she thought, I’m cute and fuzzy. She didn’t know why, but she felt it.
Running her hand over her stomach she ran across small bumps. They pushed out into small hard nipples below her c-cup breasts. They felt odd, but nice too.
She panted a bit. Holding on to the sink. Her stomach churned a bit and she felt a tightness in her loins. She looked down to find her pussy had become puffy and shaped differently. She even prodded it with one claw gently, if only to confirm it was still just as sensitive. Fur was starting to grow now, white across her belly and breasts, and up her arms and muzzle. Black fur coated her shoulders and back, and down her legs. It was soft, oh so very soft. She loved the feel. Her spine tingled just a bit, she felt something pressing down and outward. She couldn’t see it but she could feel it, and she knew it was the last piece. The missing piece. She needed it most of all. Slowly it fluffed out behind her, a thick tail of black fur, with a floofy white tip. It flicked back and forth behind her, full of excitement and nervous energy.
“Mmm” She moaned lightly as the warmth began to leave her. Her tail swishing in the bathroom’s dim light. She felt so yummy.
Slowly she made her way to the bedroom, at first trying to balance on her hind legs, but finally falling forward and padding her way out on all fours. Her collar jingling as she went. She was still warm, but in another way. Padding over to her phone, she pulled up a number. It took some work to text with her new paws, but she finally got a short message in, pushing send before she curled herself up on the bed to explore her new body.
The phone chirped a few minutes later. She didn’t bother to read it. She knew he’d come soon, and what a surprise he was in for. She let her tongue hang out, panting lightly. Her fingers slipping down between her legs, accompanied by a low whine as she began the first explorations of her new body. |
Making of an Ushimimi “Are you sure this is going to work Mike?” She asked tentatively.
“Of course, I’m sure!” Mike said, upbeat.
She looked at the circle, “So, what am I supposed to do?”
“Nothing! Just stand in the circle.” He pointed.
She stepped daintily into the circle, her high heels clicking on the cement floor, wondering if he’d finally found something real this time. He was mumbling to himself now. He grew fainter, she could see his mouth moving but she couldn’t hear anything. Slowly the chalk outline around her began to glow faintly.
“Mike! I’m scared!” She cried, watching a faint shadow of white creep towards her.
He ignored her, his mouth still moving, his hair blowing in a breeze she couldn’t feel. Instead, she just felt strangely light headed. She put her head in her hands, her long dark hair obscuring her vision. It helped with the sudden vertigo. Her body was getting warm now. Despite the chill in the basement, she felt like she was burning up. There was an overwhelming queasiness in her stomach as it lurched and rolled.
Time seemed to slow for her, and for just a few moments it was like nothing in the world moved. Then came the tendrils of power, overwhelming her body and forcing her to change. Her hips rocked and popped, widening into generous curves, her booty bouncing as it expanded outward. She felt her bra snap as her breasts seemed to explode outward from her chest, becoming huge masses of flesh capped with giant coke-can sized nipples. Her hands, still on her head, could fee the rise of the nubby horns that began to poke through her hair, and the sudden flap of her ears as they broadened. Mottled patches of dark spots appeared across her pale skin, even as the first swishes of her new tail brushed against her ass, its fuzzy tip ticking as it went.
The fading of the light marked her release. Oddly she felt calm, serene. Her mind a near blank as she waited. Her clothes lay in tatters, save the high heels she wore, but she didn’t care. She looked at Mike, outside the circle. She could see him, panting hard, his hands limp at his sides. She didn’t say anything, just looking with luminous brown eyes. Just like a good cow should.
“I did it!” He thrust his fist into the air triumphantly. “I turned you into my Ushimimi!”
She blinked, not really comprehending. She didn’t even remember her name. Her only feeling now was to love and obey. Maybe she was someone once, but that was the past. Now? She was only the Master’s. Master would care for her. She chewed her lip gently. She could feel her nipples starting to leak.
He still seemed preoccupied, but she didn’t care. She walked to him, feeling her body sway sensually, and curled herself up against him, feeling his arms wrap about her. Nothing else mattered now. |
Probably the best thing he’d ever bought. A solid five stars.
That’s what he wanted to write, if not for the fact that his hands were a bit too big to use a keyboard designed for humans and not… whatever he had been turned into. It all happened so quickly and unexpectedly that he was still reeling from it, barely able to put to words what he’d gone through, but one thing was for certain: he was liking what his new body was like, even if it was hard to walk around without bumping his head against the ceiling.
It all started just a couple of hours earlier, when he first received a call from the delivery service letting him know they’d be sending someone over with his package. William, having spent the previous couple of weeks in near-perpetual excitement at his decision to finally buy the damned thing, could barely contain himself; by the time the delivery driver knocked on his door, he was practically jumping off the walls, his cheery attitude contrasting so wonderfully with the detached apathy of the man who’d brought him his package that William cursed his decision not to bring a camera to record the moment. Then again, it was just him signing a piece of paper and taking a large box into his home; maybe he was just exaggerating it?
No, he couldn’t be, this was exactly the kind of reaction that such an event deserved. After spending so much time stressing over whether or not he should spring for something like that, taking the steps required to finally purchase a kigurumi of his own felt far, far more fulfilling than it really had any right to. He wasn’t getting a new job, or moving out to a home that was roomier than his studio apartment, but that sort of childish joy at getting a brand new toy was so powerful that William beamed with sheer glee as he ripped through the packaging and retrieved the item of clothing from within.
It was exactly as the pictures made it out to be, and even fluffier to the touch than he could’ve expected; part of him remembered that he should probably clean it before trying it on for the first time, but after seeing that Arcanine onesie in its full glory, he really couldn’t help himself. Two minutes later, he was encased by it, with the hood pulled all the way down.
It was even more comfortable than he expected it to be, like his whole body was being hugged by a being of purest, smoothest silk; at that exact moment, William felt like finding the nearest soft surface and just melting into it before drifting off into sleep, only to wake up several hours later. Indeed, the first thing he did was throw himself at his couch and wriggle around in ways that could charitably be described as undignified; not that it mattered, seeing as no one else was in the house. After he had his fill, with his limbs nice and loosened by all that thrashing about and his throat sore from all the moaning, he dragged himself back to his feet before heading over to his desk; he needed to show this to his friends.
It was here that things began to take a turn for the weird. Since the hood covered a large chunk of his head, and he didn’t have a standing microphone, William grabbed the top of it in order to pull it off to make room for his headphones, only to find that it refused to budge. Somehow, for whatever reason, he couldn’t find the strength needed to pull the hoodie back from his head, almost like it was glued on. He could feel it tugging at his scalp, though not painfully so; it reminded him of the few times he had pulled his own hair, oddly enough, but he didn’t quite put two and two together until he tried to remove other parts of the kigurumi and found himself in the exact same pickle. Even worse, the gloves that he hadn’t put on had somehow snaked their way up to close over his fingers, and no matter how hard he tried, the young man just couldn’t pull them back!
It was so unexpected that all William could do was stand there looking at himself as he wondered how these things fit together. He couldn’t possibly be hallucinating, he hadn’t cracked open that bag or eaten any of its contents, but surely there was no way he was so weak that he couldn’t pull back a piece of cloth… and yet, no matter how hard he tried, the kigurumi only ever felt more attached to him, not less, something that got worse and worse the more he tried to take it off, until finally the first signs of the transformation made themselves known.
The gloves that came with the onesie didn’t have fingers on them, being a big chunk of comfortable cloth in the rough shape of a hand. It wasn’t supposed to make it easier to grab things, but it did keep his hands so snuggly that they almost felt numb… perhaps a bit too numb once he thought about it. Not only had the flaps placed themselves of their own volition, but he was panicking slightly at the prospect of suddenly becoming a limp noodle, so why were his hands numb?
The fear he felt began to spike even harder once he lost all sense below the wrists, and it didn’t get any better when he raised those things up to see what was happening and saw that, where had once been two flaps of cloth designed to cover everything but the thumb, was now a full set of fingers. Four of them, in fact, along with the fifth jutting out from the side where it usually did, but rather than the pinkish colour that they were supposed to be, they were fire-red, far bigger than before, and completely covered in fur.
There was only one explanation for this, and William’s brain worked overtime not to accept it, because it just couldn’t be true at all; there was no way he was transforming into an Arcanine, that was the stuff of internet animations and kink fanfics, doubly so given the reason for it: a kigurumi, turning its wearer into the thing that it was supposed to represent? That was the kind of thing he jacked off to whenever he was bored, not something that was supposed to happen… and yet, somehow, he could still see it happening in front of his eyes, despite the hood having covered them a couple of minutes before and him not having realized it.
In fact, it was only after he tried to touch his own forehead with his new digits that he noticed he shouldn’t be able to see anything at all, yet was still perfectly capable of doing so, which could only mean that the hoodie had somehow replaced his regular eyesight. He could still blink, despite the Arcanine head not having any eyelids (or functioning eyes), and as he ran his fingers across the top of the hood, he could feel them as though he were doing so over his own head.
Because it was his own head. Or at least his new head, judging from how things were going; it didn’t make a lot of sense, and he was starting to become convinced that he’d accidentally dropped the wrong kind of mushrooms into his stew, but he was looking through the hoodie’s eyes… eyes that seemed to be moving upwards, judging from how his field of view was changing. Despite everything that was happening, it still took him far too much time to realize that he was growing, not just “melting” into his kigurumi, and it was only after he tried to get up from his seat and nearly knocked his desk over with his legs that he truly realized just how big he’d gotten.
Tripping backwards was an inevitably at that point, though the fall was cushioned somewhat by what he assumed, at that point, to be the cursed (enchanted?) onesie’s own softness. After a few moments of writhing around trying to get back on his feet, however, William realized that it couldn’t possibly be the kigurumi itself; whatever had been underneath him when he fell onto the floor, it was big, soft and fluffy, but most certainly separate from his clothes. Putting two and two together made it extremely easy to figure out what it might be, but he still took the time to twirl around in his spot a couple of times to confirm that he did, indeed, have a tail now, and it was just like an Arcanine’s as well!
The young man couldn’t help it anymore: he started laughing. It was less joyful as it was the kind of cackling that happened when one saw something so absurd and unrealistic that one could only react with the sort of amused incredulity that served to protect oneself from how farcical the situation was. Except, for William, it didn’t just go away; he didn’t just change a tab, or look away, or blink his eyes to dispel the illusion, but rather continued to live it very much in the flesh, with the sensations fed back to him intensifying the longer he tried to deny that it was happening. If it was an hallucination it was an incredibly vivid one, and if it were a dream of sorts, then he’d need to start keeping a journal by his bedside just to make sure he didn’t forget experiences as amazing as those. One thing was for certain though: he was going to enjoy this for as long as he could, because even if it wasn’t happening, what reason did he have not to milk it for all it was worth?
He got back up to his feet, stumbling around for a few seconds as he adjusted to his new center of gravity, occasionally bumping into something that stood in the way and having to extend his arm upward in order to anchor one of his hands on the ceiling in order to balance himself. That he was placing a hand in the ceiling didn’t quite register with him until after he’d done it a few times, and by that point the transformation was so well underway that William’s brain completely filtered out whatever amazement he might’ve once felt for it; of course it was normal that he could reach the ceiling, he was a massive Arca-hunk mid-transformation. It’d be weird if he couldn’t flatten his palm against it, what kind of mini-giant would he be if he didn’t have to struggle with fitting into person-sized rooms?
By that point, he had far better things to worry about than where his head was getting; hell, if his only concern was his scalp brushing up against the ceiling, then that would’ve been wonderful, but it absolutely wasn’t. Perhaps fittingly, height was at the bottom of his priority list, somewhere beneath a whole bunch of details all rendered inconsequential by the sudden emergence of fur from his… skin? It was the kigurumi still, or at least that’s the way his brain interpreted it, but he could feel it as if it were his own body; with his fingers already turned over to his new form, William ran the tips of them across what he knew to be felt and fabric, and yet could feel as they transmitted tactile sensations into his brain. Did he even have a skin underneath it? Did his old body even exist at all? These were the questions he should’ve been asking… but wasn’t, because he had fur now.
It was such a simple statement, and yet one that took him far too long to make to himself just because of how absurd it sounded. Still, it was undeniable: the previously smooth surface of his onesie, now turned into a second (or was it only?) skin had erupted with multiple tufts of fur in varying shades of orange, red and yellow, a beautiful pattern that brought to mind the Pokémon that the kigurumi was supposed to represent, the one William was turning into in real-time. He could barely hold himself back, his mind demanding that he keep stroking himself; his fur was soft, silky, and begged to be rubbed gently so as to be appreciated to its fullest, and with no one around to do that for him, it fell on the transforming young twenty-something to do that to himself. The result? Plenty of noises for his neighbors to try their best to ignore, having learned not to interrupt anyone when they were moaning so loudly.
If only it were so simple a process, though, that fur would be the highlight. Reality had better plans for him, bigger plans, and whatever anomaly had decided to take his clothes and fashion from them a new body for him obviously had some kind of penchant for other, more intimate concerns. It wasn’t altogether surprising that William’s shaft had been at full mast for quite some time already, but what was unexpected was its size and girth; not only was it significantly larger than before, owing to the general size boost he’d received, but it had grown further in excess to its old proportions, leaving him with a cock that was about half as long as his torso was and girthy enough that he needed two hands to wield it properly… two hands that William made sure to place at the best possible spots to feel as his new, thick knot emerged, popping into existence just before the first ropes of cum began to fire off from his brand new tip.
Like clockwork, the finishing touches were being placed at about the same time as he underwent the first climax in his new form, almost like he was sealing some kind of pact and that immense spurt of spunk was his impromptu signature. Just as his juices splattered across the wall in front of him, the last vestiges of the kigurumi’s constituent materials were absorbed into his new body, with it now resembling, in every way, shape and form, a humanized Arcanine so utterly enormous that doors would be a very big problem going forward.
Not that William cared, of course; why bother with doors when he could just pull them off hinges? His new body was certainly ripped enough that he wouldn’t have any trouble with it… though that bit of a gut he had developed at the same time might end up being a slight issue, assuming he couldn’t rely on his stout strength to just break through any obstacle.
Questions for later though. For the time being, he had an orgasm to enjoy, a release that lasted for long enough that he began to wonder if it was even going to stop, powerful to the point where he had to deliberately aim away from his computer in order to spare it the flow.
After all, he had to leave a review. Absolutely worth the purchase. A solid five stars. |
High School Herms Chapter 3: My Beautiful Dragon
Kiko stood on hir prey's balcony, watching him from the safety of invisibility. The chimera-creature stared longingly at the dragon's beautiful blue body. All four heads licked their lips simultaneously. Shi had longed for him for so long, to feel his cool, smooth skin against hir body, and to feel the sweet chill of his manhood inside of hir.
He was such a gorgeous ice drake, over eight feet in height and a heavy build. He was very strong, but his frame wasn't the result of hours in the gym; he was slabs of powerful muscle with a soft, cuddly covering. That was in part due to his rather strange eating habits, and his rather strange fetish. Shi watched as he prepared his weekend's entertainment in a large pot.
The displacer could smell the sweet fruity scent of the gelatin wafting through the open screen door. The pot was placed over a heat rune drawn on the floor. Kiko knew he bought the stuff in bulk and mixed it so it would have a thicker consistency then the usual snack treat. The ice drake's eyes darted to the clock on the wall and he smiled, his fun having boiled long enough.
Shi knew he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning, taking a few different herbal concoctions to clean himself out and to expand his digestive system for this. It was rather interesting to watch.
Kiko could tell that hir sexy drake had been doing this for quite some time; his belly had grown large because of it, giving him more then a bit of a paunch. Interestingly, Kiko had figured that it had helped his body out with the act. A typical male, he'd eat until he was full, his enlarged stomach taking in more food, which led to fat stores, which led to him being able to better cope without eating for three days of the week.
Using a small hand-pump, Maverick began to inflate the first of perhaps two dozen party balloons with the boiling gelatin. They'd each been inflated beforehand and painted with runes to make sure they wouldn't pop and ruin the carpet. The blue tied it off and then tilted his head back, stretching his mouth out to serpentine girth to swallow the balloon.
Kiko knew his naturally cool body temperature would cool it enough to make it solidify. Shi thought he was a rather curious male, having such a pregnancy and egg laying fetish. He'd go through about four dozen balloons over the weekend, his belly swelling and stretching, the loose skin pulling taut with the presence of so much mass inside of him.
Later, he'd go and 'birth' the balloons in the bathtub, masturbating all the while. Kiko had watched him the last few weekends and it was so sexy. His draconic stamina had him hard through the entire 'birthing' process. Sometimes shi had crept close, catching his spurting seed in one of hir mouths while he came as another 'egg' popped free between his legs.
He was such a gorgeous dragon. Kiko felt a strong bond to him as shi had spent so much time watching and wanting him. Shi loved him more then all the others. He was special to hir. He would be the one shi would share hir blessing with. Shi supposed he would be able to physically fulfill his egg laying fantasy as a herm, with a belly full of eggs. He would also need a male to father them. Would he accept hir as his mate? Would he carry hir eggs? Kiko hoped so.
Shi was growing aroused at the sight of hir dragon, hir new maleness a comfortable growing weight between hir legs. He'd already swallowed about half of his first load. As soon as his belly was filled with as many balloons as he could swallow, he'd lay on his bed, one paw stroking his belly, the other stroking his cock. Shi should lay with him, wrap hir tentacles around him, and milk him oh so wonderfully with hir mouths and paws. Shi wouldn't give him hir gift until the last 'egg' had left him. Shi wanted to ride that dragoncock for all it was worth.
There was the last one! An even two dozen! The dragon looked at what was left, then down at his belly. He filled up a twenty fifth balloon. Kiko had noticed he had an increasingly hard time swallowing the 'eggs' after about twenty, but with a little bit of pushing the balloons would make it down to his gizzard.
The displacer realized shi had been unconsciously masturbating for awhile, a puddle of precum pooled beneath hir kneeling body. One paw was wrapped around hir member, and the other was buried in hir snatch. Shi watched hir lovely drake extinguish the heat rune, blasting the pot with his ice breath to freeze it instantly.
He stood on shaky legs, making his way towards his bed and flopping down on top of it. The blue snuggled his massive belly, his big blue cock rubbing against his tummy. Maverick began to stroke his shaft, being so heavy turned him on so much, and he knew he'd have a near constant erection for the entire weekend.
Kiko silently and invisibly slipped into the room, slipping a tentacle slowly around each wrist and ankle of hir gorgeous dragon. He was so absorbed in touching himself, he didn't notice hir presence at first, or at least not until shi pulled his legs tightly together and pulled his arms over his head, binding them in hir ironlike grip. He growled, trying to get free immediately, pulling tightly with his powerful arms. Thankfully, though he was strong, Kiko was stronger still. Kiko crawled over his belly, her transparent form probably seeming more ghost than alive to her captive. She stroked his muzzle lovingly with hir paws.
"Relax my sexy dragon, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to finish what we started so long ago." she said softly, trying to calm him.
"You again!" he growled.
"Me again." Kiko purred in response. "I've wanted you so badly, for so long, and now you're mine, lover." the displacer whispered, wrapping a paw softly around the drake's manhood.
"You can't scream, you can't call for help. You lock your door and stay in here for three days. You're embarrassed about your desires and wish to keep them secret. I'm not going to hurt you or tell anyone your secret, Maverick. All I want to to pleasure you, and myself. I want to rub you, stroke you, and suck you. I want to make love to you, my beautiful, sexy dragon. I know you rub this beautiful cock to climax time and time again. All I want to do is help you climax, make you feel good. You're going to be cumming anyway; I just want to help. Please, let me help?" Kiko said softly, slowly pulling hir tentacles off the male drake.
Maverick growled and grabbed the displacer tightly. She squeaked and hir invisibility dropped away, hir natural displacement ability still instinctually protecting hir by making an image of a chimera appearing in the middle of the room.
"So THAT's what you are!" the blue snarled. "You're kind of cute with those dragonish features, soft fur, and six luscious breasts. I suppose there are worse things that you could do. But you just want to fuck me, hmm?"
The image of the tightly held displacer nodded. "All I want to do is love you, my dragon. You're so sexy like this." Kiko said, rubbing a trio of paws over the male's engorged belly. "I can... give you what you desire, to be full of eggs, real eggs. Perpetually pregnant. The only possible flaw would be that you become male and female with breasts, a cock, and a cunt. You'd be a hermaphrodite for the rest of your life. But I don't think you'd mind that." Kiko purred, snuggling up to hir dragon.
"What's the catch?" Maverick asks, his hold on the chimera relaxing slightly.
"No catch. All that I ask is to allow me to love you. Let me bring you pleasure, my handsome drake. Let me stroke your shaft with my paws and tentacles. Let me lick and suck. Let me bathe in your seed." Kiko's dragonhead licked its lips. "Let me taste your cum, my sweet blue." shi said, laying submissively against him. "And maybe, do the same for me?"
"Maybe. So you're just an overenthusiastic slut, eh?" The dragon said with a smile.
"No, master. I'm your overenthusiastic little slut." Kiko purred as the dragon released hir entirely.
Kiko slipped down the male's body, taking his maleness into hir draconic mouth. Maverick looked over to the image of the invisible chimera. He could see everything shi did. Shi slowly moved hir head up and down, hir tongue curled around his cock, though his maleness wasn't included in the image.
"Does my male like this?" Kiko purred from hir feline head.
"Oh yeah..." Maverick laid back on the bed, placing his paws on the head pleasuring him, grabbing hir horns tightly, thrusting into hir mouth. He didn't notice the tentacle on the floor slipping out to grab something off the floor, slipping it into Kiko's paws.
Kiko sat up as Maverick released his grip on hir horns. Hir snake-tail slipped around beside hir as shi continued the sucking.
"What are you doing, kitten?" the dragon asked, seeing hir pawing around at hir crotch.
"Something you'll enjoy, lover." shi purred. Maverick moaned as hir cock, sheathed in one of the rune marked balloons, rubbed up against his tailhole. "May I?" Kiko asked, another tentacle reaching for a bottle of personal lubricant.
"Oh gods yes!" Maverick panted, hir warm mouth and tongue working with practiced skill on his shaft.
Kiko poured the lube out onto hir rod and hir male's waiting hole. Shi stroked hir maleness, coating it with the slick fluid. Maverick released a long gasp as the herm's cock slowly slipped into him.
"Oh kitten, I'm... ooooh... OOOOH.... AAAAARGH!" Maverick growled, bucking his hips forward in a sustained thrust, spilling his seed into the chimera's awaiting mouth.
"Yummy..." Kiko purred, placing hir paws on the male's hips, starting the stimulation of hir own cock. Shi pulled out of him slowly, drawing another gasp and a renewed blast of cum into hir mouth. Shi slowly began to pick up hir pace, replacing hir mouth on Maverick's cock with hir paws. He was still hard but didn't cum any more. Shi was going to remedy that soon enough.
"Mmmm... such a tight, sexy drake. You make Kiko's cock feel so good." shi cooed, beginning to pick up hir pace, thrusting in and out of the male's tight tailhole.
"Kiko is your name, right?" Maverick asked between gasps, the displacer's meat inside of him feeling incredible.
"Yes, it is." shi said, punctuating it with a lick on his bloated tummy. "Oooh, master, your little slut wants to cum for you, cum inside you. Your loving pet wants to cum right nooooow!" Kiko yowled, the sensations of their mating suddenly rising through her like a tide.
"Then cum for me pet, cum for your master." the blue said lovingly, feeling around to stroke Kiko's draconic cheek.
The chimera leaned into the caress, growling and her hir body tensing as shi came. Kiko grabbed the male's hips, ramming hir manhood into him as deeply as shi could, shivering as shi spurted hir seed out into the balloon.
Maverick watched the image, the rune-covered latex balloon slowly inflating with each gush of semen from the chimera. The blue drake lay back, relishing the feeling of the warm rod inside himself.
Kiko suddenly began to thrust again, still firing off jets of cum. "Oh.... oh master, you feel so good inside. So nice, so cool, so tight. Mmmmmm... I don't wanna wait! I want to make you a herm like me, right neeeeeoooooow!" shi howled, hir heads tilting back, hir cunt climaxing now as well, dripping onto hir drake's tail.
The blue drake began to feel odd as a strange blue glow began to creep over him. "Wh-what's happening, Kiko?" the blue asked, eyes wide with equal parts fear and awe.
"Don't be frightened, my beautiful drake, it's just the change coming over you. Soon you'll be a wonderful sexy hermaphrodite, able to experience the growing of eggs in your belly for real." Kiko whispered, rubbing all four paws across hir male's belly.
The male murred happily as a wonderful feeling began to accompany the glow spreading throughout his entire body.
"Oooh, I can feel your body changing, master, becoming even more beautiful. I'll love filling you with eggs, my wonderful drake." the displacer cooed, rubbing Maverick's changing body.
The glow slowly faded, both dragon and displacer looking in awe over Maverick's altered form. The ice drake had gotten slightly bigger muscle-mass-wise, to comfortably support hir heavily gravid belly. Maverick reached up with both paws, softly stroking hir new breasts. With a soft murr shi laid back, content to stroke hirself.
"I... really am. I can sense them inside me, Kiko. Eggs, real eggs, just waiting to be fertilized." the drake said in awe, peering down at hir belly. "Would you like to fill my belly with your seed, pet?"
Kiko's illusion faded away, revealing the displacer's real position. The chimera began to pull hir cock out of hir big blue lover. Shi giggled. "Master, I think I filled the balloon a little too full."
Maverick rolled hir eyes. "Tie it off and pitch it out the window. I want the..." the blue dragoness licked hir lips. "Fresh squeezed variety."
The displacer grinned, doing as hir mistress ordered. Shi tugged on the balloon gently, and with a little effort it slid from Maverick's new femsex. Kiko noticed the runes had vanished, perhaps consumed by the changing magic. Shi cupped the filled orb in a pair of tentacles, watching the seed inside glow softly before shi did as hir mistress said, flinging the full balloon out the balcony door. The duo paid no attention to the sudden storm of drunken cursing from below.
The displacer slowly slipped hir maleness into Maverick once again, a shiver coursing through hir body.
"Oh yes, pet..." Maverick churred. "Fill me up with your cum. I want to lay the eggs waiting inside me. I can't wait. Kiko, just imagine, sweet, tiny little hatchlings to love, to cuddle, to suckle at my breasts."
The displacer just smiled. "Then let us begin, my beautiful dragon." |
Ghost Lion Ama shielded her eyes from the noon day sun. The arid ridges rose high above her, overlooking the populated southern cities of the heartland. She mostly avoided them, as they weren’t her place. Settling back on her heels she looked around for any sign of movement, gazing down at the Tsavo that spread out before her, far to the south and east. Groves of trees spread out across the plain, islands in a sea of grass.
She shifted slightly, rebalancing her weight onto the balls of her feet, ready to leap forth again on her hunt again. She’d been following her quarry for weeks now. Signs of their camps, the beasts they slaughtered without mercy or care. She’d tailed them for so long, she knew she was close, but would they move again before she caught up? The last carcass had been three days back, the tusks taken, the meat wasted. It was a grisly sight, one she cared not to remember. She had found their camp, but it was too late, they had already fled. Their scent lingering on the air, teasingly close, but out of her grasp.
This time though? Would things be different? Yes, she thought fiercely, they would be different. She loped down the trail that crisscrossed the park. She would too, if she needed to. Ama had vowed to catch them, and so she bent her will to the task.
*** *** ***
Her muscles tense under her light clothing, her braids bouncing as she ducked down flank of the ridge towards the grove of trees ahead. She sniffed the air. Their scent carried faintly on the wind, nearer than she’d been. If they had only recently forsaken the last camp, then this one was still fresh on the winds. Maybe this time. The idea drove her. Her legs pumping as she sprinted across the hard packed summer ground. Her feet barely touching the grasses as she passed. She came towards the grove stealthily, carefully using another small stand of tress to shield her movements, masking her arrival from any who would mark her in the open grasslands. The animals let her pass, none raising alarm at her presence. Perhaps another day they would have reason to fear her, but not today. Not now. She was on a course to provide vengeance for the slain. They sensed that. Other than a stomped hoof or two, the herds of wildebeest ignored her, moving idly as they grazed upon their migration path.
The smell grew stronger, more distinct. She sniffed the wind for more clues. Different scents wafted about her. Petrol, perhaps a jeep or a truck. The faint scent of burning of ash assailed her nostrils, and she stifled a sneeze. She didn’t want to give away her position. Not now that she’d caught them. They were near enough now, just beyond the small stand of trees that she used for cover, in the larger grove. She had to decide. Slinking cautiously to the end of her small stand of trees, careful to avoid the venomous puff adder that basked on a nearby rock. She stole into the last tree, seeking a better vantage point.
There was still a wide swath of grass between her and the corpse of trees where they hid. Open ground, with little to hide her. She wouldn’t be able to approach undetected for long if they had even a slightly watchful guard. Still, the grass was long, and she knew that she had to catch them before they reached the herds nearby. If not, their poaching would snuff out another life, perhaps more. She growled in her throat at the thought of that. Patience became her friend, and the thick grasses were still lush from the rains only recently departed for the season. She smiled. Tall grasses were her best friend.
Ama stripped down, carefully setting aside her knife, rifle, and pack before peeling off her attire. She disliked the modern clothing, it just wasn’t as natural feeling as her tribal dress, but sadly she found herself in a world where the western clothes were the expectation. She had to forgo her beads in favor of the canvas like shorts, and sweltering button-down cotton shirt. Though she would admit the short cut of the fabric displayed her muscular limbs to great effect, the soft tans contrasting nicely with her naturally dark skin tone.
Free of the constrictive clothing she stretched, letting her muscles relax as she stayed in the obscuring shade of the trees. The sun was still too high, and she needed to wait just a bit. Not long, perhaps an hour.
*** *** ***
The shadows started to lengthen, the wind picked up, making music to her ears as it whistled through the long brush, it would hide her movements all the better. Crouching down once more she began to creep forward into the grass, barely making a whisper or a rustle as she slid into between the waves.
Only her fingers and toes remained touching the hard soil now. One step, then another. Her hips popped. Two more steps, and she felt her shoulders shift. Her prowling became easier, her movement more fluid as she welcomed the gentle warmth that overtook her. Ama’s skin rippled with movement, her muscles bulging. Each movement brought her closer to the wilds, and to her prey. Fingers contracted, leaving her palms flat against the ground, the long curve of her claws digging lightly into the dirt. Behind her feet lengthened, her toes capped with similar claws, but they too dug in only momentarily until with practiced ease she slipped noiselessly forward.
She stopped now, checking her position. By now she could feel her spine twisting, lengthening. The slow pressure as her tail swung out behind her, curling slightly at the tip, flicking impatiently as she crept forward again. Her ears swiveled, listening. She moved onward, letting her features fill out as she knew they would. Her neck thickening, her jaw pressing outward as the giant teeth began to force their way into her mouth. She could see the wide bridge of her nose now, bringing new scents of her quarry to her. Vivid and complete. She knew enough just from the details the wind brought her. She paused once more, shaking her braids as they slowly drifted away into golden hued hairs that slowly spread across her body.
She wanted to let loose, to hear herself roar in the wilds, but she kept silent. She did not want to arouse their interest, not yet. She tempered her feral desires, the wildest of huntresses that she had become. Mighty golden furred queen of the grasslands, she blended herself in with the afternoon light as it glinted off the reedy windswept grass.
Onward she crept, lifting her head only enough to see that she was still on track, but her nose guided her more. The grove was close now. Soon her ears picked up the tell-tale murmur of quiet voices and snoring men. Their camp quiet in the dull heat of the afternoon. Like a ghost she slipped under the outstretched arms of the trees.
The smell of offal, petrol, and death permeated the place. She gagged, revolted by the aromas that came to her, but she had to stop this rampage. It was her duty. She clung to the deepening shadows, the evening air starting to cool as the winds blew the heat of the day away.
She found a place where she could see three men sitting around a small fire, each eating from a small tin cup. Their guns set beside the truck nearby. The men had pitched two small tents nearby, and thunderous snoring came from one these, no doubt a fourth man. The truck was not far, nothing more than a simple pick-up truck, but the grisly remains of their work spread across the bed. Great ivory tusks, a dozen of them, some still smeared with blood, lay across the back of the truck. She bristled in anger.
Ama demanded patience of herself. Shadows hid her, and her movements. She could wait a little while. Settling down she crossed her paws, ignoring the sounds of other animals nearby, and she watched. The men were sleepy, the afternoon heat making them droop and nod. Soon, one, then another, moved to the tents, leaving just a single man near the fire. He merely kicked at the embers, irate that he’d drawn watch. The last man would rise, pace a bit, and occasionally check the guns. He repeated this several times, grumbling as he looked at his watch. But it was soon clear that he was not attentive enough. He felt safe, this far form the cities. He did not know that death’s claws were so near to him as to reach out and snag him.
Ama watched his pattern a time or two more, peering around looking for a good spot to launch from. She must be certain of her first kill, to not wake the sleepers. The sound of the sleepers was now clear, lost in slumber, snores echoing. This time, as he returned along the arc of his path nearest to her hiding place she wiggled in anticipation, her hind quarters carefully loaded to spring as her tail lashed in eager anticipation.
As soon as he turned to sit, she sprang. A single great leap brough her down on his shoulders squarely, her jaws already clamped down on his neck, the only sound a harsh crack as he sagged beneath her. Only the escaping air from his lungs in a faint hiss disturbed the grove, not nearly enough to warn his compatriots.
Satisfied she had not woken the others she moved toward the tents. The snoring rose and fell, rhythmically. She slipped through the first tent’s mosquito netting like a wraith. The second man died without little more than an audible crack of his neck. The third was only fortunate enough to scream once before she had him in her claws and bit down, silencing him forever.
The last man though, he awoke to the scream. He stumbled from his cot, forcing himself to make for the guns that lay just yards away. But she wasn’t ready to let him go. Emerging from the tent with blood around her mouth she found him struggling to reach for the weapons. She leapt, coming crashing down on him just as he reached for the guns. The weapons scattered, spinning away from his grasping hands. Under her paws she could feel him trembling, for a moment she felt only the mildest tinge of regret at killing in such an unsporting way, but then again, he deserved no better. A quick slash of her claws opened his thigh wide, sending blood spraying. A second slash ripped open his arm, stopping him from reaching after the nearest rifle. He tried to escape her, pulling back, but she was already on him. The final struggle was brief, and the audible sound of the final snap of his neck echoed in the clearing.
*** *** ***
Ama pushed herself back off the dead man, and cleaned her fur. Humans always tasted terrible. She hated wasting the meat, and being no better than they, but she had a job to do, and she had done it. Satisfied that she was clean, she pushed herself up, letting her bones shift. Fur faded away, and her tail retreated as she shrank down into her womanly state, her legs straightening, her breasts returning. She watched her fingers lengthen again, her pads disappearing into the delicate tips of her fingers. It was always oddest to watch her nipples recede, but eventually she was herself again, or at least she was Ama, and not the huntress as she thought of her alter ego.
Satisfied she set about the job of destroying the camp. She piled the bodies and the tusks together, extra fuel cans providing ample flames to light the truck, men, gear, and ivory aflame, ruining the mighty tusks for any who would try to claim them. Someone would find the bodies, eventually, but they would be unrecognizable. Just as well. The deserved no burial.
The fire made an awful putrid stench, the plume of dark smoke rising high into the air, sweeping across the plan in the evening breezes. She watched for hours as it consumed everything, leaving only a smoldering husk of the truck, along with the charred remains of bone and ivory that remained scattered under the melted frame. Nodding with grim satisfaction at the job well done, she turned away. Evening had turned to night as she left the camp, slowly slipping through into the grasses, seeking out her own clothes and supplies, no longer worried about hiding her movements from poachers. Far away she heard the mournful yips of a jackal that prowled in the distance.
*** *** ***
Days later she set the gun and knife in their places; her pack sliding to the dusty floor. She threw off her western clothes, she didn’t need them here in her home. The shorts and the shirt, patched with the markings of the national wildlife service. Little did they know the truth of her successes.
Stepping outside once more Ama stretched again, her skin glistening with sweat and shining in the evening glow of the sun. She enjoyed the warmth it gave, the glow that surrounded her skin as she soaked up the rays. Looking back over her territory in the Tsavo, she wondered when she would need to hunt again. The poachers had been becoming wary again. It’d taken her far too long to catch this last set. Still, from her fellow tribesmen she heard the stories from the cities as they went to trade. The ghost lion was on the prowl. A vengeful spirit. Ama smiled at the suggestion she was a spirit, then again, the spirit of the lion had certainly claimed her life, and the lives of her kin for generations. The last of a dying breed.
Sadly, the sun’s last rays faded too soon dropping below the ridges, and she turned, returning naked to the interior of her home. The small hut wasn’t much, just two rooms, but it was hers, and no one challenged for it. Inside she let the feeling steal over her again, the huntress coming forth. Her soft fur, the keen senses, and the sweeping tail. Comfortable again in her form she stepped into the dark recesses of the small hut and curled up in the nest of blankets she called a bed. She yawned, and smiled only as a cat can smile. A devious look on her feline face. Ghost lion indeed, she thought mockingly to herself. The huntress was ever the lioness, but no ghost was she, and she’d make every poacher rue invading the land she claimed as her own. |
Hitchhiking in the Buff Sal slid her hands across the wheel as she rounded the corner, feeling the old rig humming beneath her calloused palms. The low hazy light of dawn sending shadows dancing across the mountain highway. She loved this time of day; it was quiet and the truck hummed up the mountain side at a steady pace. Clear of the snows finally, and too early for the tourists to be up and about, she enjoyed the scenic drive, glimpsing the nearby snowcapped peaks gleaming in the sun’s rays. It wasn’t an easy road to drive, but she knew it well and had driven it many times over the years.
The climb grew steeper, and she was thankful the sun was still pretty low in the East, often sliding between the trees or behind a ridge as she wound up the curvy roadway. A few cars passed her, but mostly the road was hers. She always preferred that. Most drivers didn’t give her rig enough room anyway.
Shifting to a lower gear, the heavy load keeping the rig at about 35 on the uphill climb, she hummed right along with the radio as it blasted out old rock songs. In the shadows her headlights picked up the outline of someone ahead. A guy running on the side of the road. Weird, he wasn’t dressed for running, in fact he looked like he didn’t even have shoes on. Normally she wouldn’t just stop, but something called to her on this one. Maybe he was in trouble. She decided to stop and find out.
She knew there was a pull-out not far ahead. She shifted down again and let the truck slide onto the paved space, coming to a slow halt with barely any need for breaking. It was level enough she wasn’t worried about rolling once she slapped on the break. The guy was just a few hundred yards back, so she grabbed her pistol from the door holster. She checked to make sure it was loaded, and that the safety was still on. She put the gun into her vest pocket. Stepping out of her cab she went to meet the man.
The man came puffing up the hill. He wasn’t much to look at, salt and pepper hair with a full beard, a bit of a pudgy shape, but tall and long legged. He wore a big cheery grin, and a long red and black plaid shirt. Looking closer, she realized that was all he was wearing. She almost giggled, realizing he wasn’t entirely covered either. Giggling was not something a fifty-year-old trucker should be heard doing.
“Hi,” he was cheerful as the sloppy grin on his face. “Thanks for stopping! I was getting a little footsore running.”
She appraised him a bit, watching his chest rise and fall, not to mention the hem of his shirt lift up a bit to reveal he was fairly well endowed, even just hanging loose. “Well, I was kind of curious why a man would be out running without any shoes this early in the morning. Figured you could use some help.”
“Well, I really would appreciate a lift, if you don’t mind.” “I might be willing. Where you headed?”
“Over the pass. As far as you’ll take me, honestly, maybe up north a bit?”
“I’m not going that far, just as far as the interstate, but I can drop you off there. There’s a place I know where I might be able to get you some clothes.”
He looked down at himself. “I guess I should have some pants.” His face clouded for a second as he mumbled, “damn it, I hate pants.”
She laughed “Don’t we all! Nudist?”
“Born nude, live nude, plan to die nude.”
“The shirt then?”
“Ah, borrowed from a hiker’s camp, um, without permission.” He gave an attempt at a sheepish look.
“Why?”
“Because I’d rather get picked up by a cute lady than the state police.” He winked at her.
She blushed a little. Smooth talker, this one. It’d been a long time since someone had called her cute. With her thick hips and ample bosom, she could still land a man, but most didn’t make much effort to make her feel good. “You’re not wanted or anything, are you?”
“Not by the cops. I know a few exes that are kind of sore at me, but never had a problem with the cops.”
“Fair enough. Look we’d better get you into the truck before someone else comes along. Hurry up.”
“Thank you, kindly Miss?”
“Everyone calls me Sal.”
“Glad to meet you, Sal, my name is Brian.”
She nodded as they walked around the truck. She got in first, and flipped an old towel over the seat, before she unlocked his door. He climbed in revealing he had a fairly nice ass as he sat down. She slid her gun back into the door holster, and the rig roared back to life and started rolling again.
“So, are you going to be honest with what you were running from?”
“Um, I don’t think you’d believe me.” “Try me.”
“Hunters.”
“You don’t look like a buck. You been spoiling their hunts?”
“Um, yes and no? They weren’t hunting deer, they were looking for sasquatch, and well I know it sounds weird, but they thought I was sasquatch!”
“Really? Is that a common problem for you?”
“Believe it or not, yes.”
Sal laughed as she took the truck around the curves at the top of the pass.
They chatted for a while; Brian had several fun stories of his wandering around as a nudist in strange places. He apparently enjoyed his bare form quite a bit and relished hiking in it. He wandered all over, apparently, he was pretty well travelled from northern California, over into Idaho and Montana. But he spent most of his time around the Pacific Northwest.
Sal snickered at several of his stories. “You know, as much as you do wander these parts in the buff, it’s no wonder that someone thinks your sasquatch. You’re damn near all the right places and you leave them big bare foot prints.”
A couple of hours later they found themselves rolling into the lowlands beyond the mountains. Sal pulled the truck over into a small parking lot near a church. It was empty on a weekday morning. She looked over at Brian who was munching on a couple blueberries she’d handed him. “There’s a thrift store nearby. I think I can get you some pants so you don’t scandalize the locals. I don’t suppose you’ve got any money?”
That sheepish grin returned. “Guilty, I’m plum broke. Kind of hard to carry money without pockets.”
“Lost your wallet?”
“Naw, my friend has it. He’ll find me when I get someplace safe. He always does.”
“Friend got a name?”
“Yeah, Isaac. I just need to find a phone.”
“I think there’s an old payphone over there. Might still work. But I can help you with those drawers. What size do you do need?” “Yeah, um, forty-eight thirty-six, if they’ve got them.”
She looked at his portly and very tall frame. “Might have to be shorts.” She started to move to get out of the truck. Before she could open the door, he put a hand on her thigh. She looked over at him inquisitively.
“If you don’t mind me being a bit forward, Sal, um, I’d like to thank you a bit first, if you’re not pressed for time.”
“And how, pray tell, do you intend to do that?” She realized her response was a little breathy. She wanted he to say it. She was actually hoping he was going to offer. It’d been a few months and honestly, she was looking forward to another bit of bump and grind. Brian was a good bit more appealing than the last few fellows.
“Well, I’ve been told I’m pretty good company, if you catch my meaning.”
She leaned over into his ear. “Say it.”
“I want to fuck you.” He whispered back. And, to Sal’s surprise he let out a deep growl that sent shivers down her spine, in a very good way.
She leaned in, “I’ve got time.” She reached down and slid her hand under the shirt and found him already stiffening. “I think I will take you up on that offer, Mr. Nudist.”
She slid into the sleeper cabin, and shimmied a bit, her rolls not as sexy as she hoped but it helped get the tight pants off down from her thick hips. She slid them to the floor and kicked them aside. He slid into the cabin behind her, bent over to avoid the ceiling. She pulled him down to her, enjoying the bristle of his beard as she kissed him.
It was a decent sized sleeper, big enough for them to fall into the bed and have enough room. Maybe a bit of a tight fit, but that was okay. He slipped off her vest and her light shirt, and unclasped her bra with practiced ease. He started with her neck, that deep growl of his electrifying her. She moaned just a bit in anticipation. He nibbled her collar and her neck, then kissed and sucked on her nipples as she moved lower. She could feel his fingers tracing the curve of her hips as he reached her panties. He slid these off her gently as he almost nuzzled her crotch. She closed her eyes and began to let her hips rise into his waiting tongue. She could feel his tongue, thick and moist lashing her clit as she edged towards orgasm. Slowly she could feel him mounting her, she slid her hand to stop him only long enough to slip the condom from its wrapper and slide it over his cock before guiding him in. Then his big body was atop hers as he buried himself to the hilt as she “mmphed” though a bitten lip in response.
He started thrusting, as she rocked in time. Her hips pushing into him. She clutched his back, the fabric of the shirt bunching oddly around her fingers. He was a little large for her, but he’d worked her up pretty well and she could feel him sliding in and out in rhythmic fashion with her hip motions. He continued to gently stroke her breasts, teasing her nipples and offering the occasional low growl that just excited her. He nipped her several times as she neared orgasm. Finally, she just pulled him to her as she felt herself clench in orgasmic bliss. She could feel him matching her orgasm in time.
She lay there for a few minutes, panting and just enjoying the afterglow as he slid off her. “That was fun.” A grunt was her response. She opened one eye, looking over at him. Taking a second to focus in the dark she realized he didn’t look at all the same. She scrambled to backwards on the bed as she stared at the face of a very big, furry bear.
“Sorry,” said the bear “I guess I got a little too worked up. You’re a pretty damned good lay.”
“Um, what?”
“I said you’re a good fuck. Good enough I need a minute or two to come back to myself.”
“You’re a bear.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Where’s Brian?”
She’d never seen a bear roll its eyes before. “I am Brian.”
“You’re a bear.”
“We covered that, yes, I’m a bear. Specifically, a were-bear. You know, like were-wolf, but um, a bear.”
“A bear.”
“Yep. Would it make you feel any better if I said I was king of the werebears?”
“Uh, no?”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not. We don’t have kings anyway. I’m just me, Brian.” Even as he said it his face started to shift and shorten, losing the furry features and returning to the man. It was a little odd to watch, like her eyes were out of sync as his muzzle retreated.
“Doesn’t that hurt?”
“Nope.”
“Wait, you bit me!”
“Don’t worry, that old wives’ tale about turning into a were after being bitten isn’t true. It’s hereditary.” Sal, slowly relaxed as the last of Brian’s fur disappeared. “So, um, that was very, fun, but a little disconcerting. What now?”
“Now? I was hoping you’d get me some pants, but if you want another go.”
“As tempting as that is, I’m not sure my heart can quite take that. You’re a very good lover, but I was not expecting to fuck a bear.”
“Were-bear.”
“Yeah, that, um… whatever.” She shrugged. Gathering up her clothes. He was a good lay, but that transformation had spooked her pretty badly. She slipped back into her bra and panties, while he dumped the used condom into the trash. A few moments later she was buckling her pants up and wiping down her hands with some cleaner. She tossed a small towel at him to get cleaned up too. As she calmed down, she realized it had been the best orgasm she’d had in a while, and she was starting to regret not taking him up on a second round. He was considerate and had a fun little growl. He’d nipped and sucked her nipples well, and he was decently sized.
She left him doing a quick wash with a couple wipes, while she slipped off to the store and found an old pair of sweat pants that should fit him, even a decent pair of old shoes, all for five bucks. She grabbed a five-dollar phone card from the gas station too.
Returning to her cab she gave him the clothes and card. By this point she’d definitely decided he was worth the scare, and she was glad she picked him up. “One more time before you go?” She asked.
He smiled that big cheery smile of his.
She handed him a fresh condom, and slid back onto the bed, her ass in the air facing him. “Let’s try it this way.”
She felt his fingers slide her pants down, feeling as his nails dragged along her hips even as he exposed her. The nails she now imagined were claws, even as she felt him drive his cock home once more as she drove her face into the pillow to moan. Definitely worth it. She let him ride her to three more orgasms.
It was early afternoon when Sal finally got back up. She was going to be late if she didn’t get moving. Brian had left earlier. He given her a quick kiss as he left, and she wondered if she’d ever see him again. Probably not, but if she did, well, she had some honey for him any time he wanted it. She turned the key in the ignition, and the old rig started up. Slowly she pulled away.
A few miles down the road a tall man could be seen heading off into the woods. No long after some hikers would find a neatly piled shirt, shoes, and sweat pants near the side of a small trail. They looked around, saw no one, and shrugged. Brian, on the other hand, just smiled that secret smile only bears really know as he trundled back off into the woods free from his latest pursuers, and having found a nice lay in the process. |
The New Law 3 “Grandma, why are we here?”
“To visit a very old dear friend.”
“In this dusty old garden? It doesn’t look like anyone has lived here in years.”
“Decades. Not since the war.”
“Oh wow, what happened?”
“This area was overrun by the enemy, and the residents of the manor were taken. I heard later that the Lord died, well, killed is more likely, and his lady was taken away to be a pleasure slave.”
“How awful.”
“Very much so, though I can’t say I shed a tear at his passing.”
“Why not?”
“Because he did many horrible things.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know, it’s been a long time, and things become more accepted the longer they are in place. Come, walk with me and I’ll tell you things I should have told you long ago.”
“Grandma, you’re making me nervous.” “Really? I would think your impending wedding would make you more nervous.”
“It’s just marriage. I mean, father did pick him out, but he seems decent enough.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not.”
“Is this about mom?”
“Well, yes, and no. It’s about all of us really.”
“All of us?”
“Yes. You see, this friend I am taking you to see, she and I were once close friends. Maybe we still are, I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“Hush, don’t interrupt, it’s bad manners. You’ll understand when you meet her. Now, where was I?”
“Talking about your friend.”
“Oh yes, you see she and I were part of an early resistance to a law that passed a long time ago. Oh my, must be nearly fifty years now. We tried to resist the Law of Lord’s Rights.”
“That’s the law that lets my husband chose how I look, isn’t it?”
“Yes, dear. It’s the unjust law that gives them ultimate power over us.”
“But lords don’t do that anymore, do they?” “They do, less now after the death of so many magicians in the war curtailed the wide-spread habit.”
“Then why does it matter?”
“Because it is still there and it is still unjust.”
“But you were changed, weren’t you?”
“You know I was. These hooves aren’t for show, you know.”
“But they’re so pretty.”
“I must admit, I’ve gotten very used to them. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is that when you take that vow, you give him control over you that no other should hold over you. The ability to control your very self.”
“You make it sound so scary.”
“It should be.”
“But then why do we have that law? If it’s so awful?”
“Because the men who wrote, did so for their own pleasure; and those who did were largely malicious and controlling in all things.”
“That sounds beastly.”
“You are more right than you know. Come, this way, left, I think. What you need to understand is that we tried to resist this law, and for that I, and my friend, were punished by the very law we objected to.”
“So that’s why you have hooves?” “Granddaughter, I have more than just hooves.”
“No!”
“Believe it. I am as much a mare as I am a woman. I am fortunate compared to my friend though. She paid a much steeper price.”
“Did they kill her?”
“Truthfully? I am not certain. There are times I feel that they did not, but all the same they took her from us and she is treated as if she were dead. I do not know if there’s anything left of her, but I still come here from time to time to talk with her if my mind is unsettled.”
“I am so confused. Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I am getting old, and my days of fighting are nearly over. You are young, bright, and ever so willing and eager to stand up for more than I ever could. Maybe I was hoping, just a bit, that you could carry on my fight, and maybe some day help rid us of injustices like this. Yes, I hoped to persuade you to that, but my hear quails at the idea of putting you in harms way. I couldn’t forgive myself if you ended up like my friend Martha.”
“But why then?”
“Because you need to know the truth. The harsh truth of what awaits you if your Lord is less than the kindly man he seems. You are all I have left in the world. You mother’s untimely death has worn heavy on me, and I never forgave your grandfather.”
“This is all very… overwhelming. Which way?”
“Left again. I know, and I’m sorry to make this trip so. But I hope that you will understand when you meet her. Ah, here we are now.” “Where is she?”
“You’re looking at her.”
“All I see is an old fountain with a statue of a woman.”
“That is her, as she’s stood now for fifty years since her husband changed her.”
“What?”
“That’s right. What you see before you is not merely stone, or at least she wasn’t once, but rather a lively wonderful woman who was my friend.”
“They can do this?”
“They can.”
“And they did it before?”
“This and more. Many of the early changes were more drastic than you see today. Now days you see more of a bit of extra padding in the bust, or maybe a turn of the thigh. I understand elvish looks are back in fashion again. A few more extreme cases remain, but most are hidden well from prying eyes. Not so when we first started. One woman was turned into a pig, save for that she could stand on her hind legs and still walk and talk like a woman.”
“A pig?”
“Yes, and another a cow.”
“How… I don’t understand, how did they manage to get away with this?” “This is why I am telling you. They passed an unjust law and they silenced those of us who fought it. Many of our supporters early on were caught by a traitor in our midst and we paid a heavy price.”
“Does she feel it, If I touch her?”
“I really don’t know.”
“May I?”
“I do, I think she wouldn’t mind if you did as well. I always hope that more of her remains and that my infrequent visits help sustain her with just a touch of humanity. A small reminder that she is not forgotten.”
“Can we change her back?”
“Only a magician could try, and they banned women from learning magic long ago.”
“So, we are powerless?”
“Not completely, but in this we have much to work against.”
“What shall I do?”
“What we have always done. You shall marry the man appointed, and you shall use wits and guile to save yourself if you can, and others if you may.”
“I… I just feel like my world is crashing down. This is so much. Oh… she’s warm.”
“She always is. Like the living, though her skin is as hard and fine as any polished marble. It’s why I feel she’s still in there somewhere. I fear though if I ever managed to change her back, she’d have gone mad by now. But I hope that maybe someday she will be freed.”
“Oh, Grandma, I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to be changed because my husband wishes to punish me.”
“This is the crux of the injustice. He should not be able to. Come now child, you’ve met my friend. Let me have a few words with her and we will be back off to the carriage.”
“Yes, grandma.”
“That’s a good girl.”
*** *** ***
“You look sad, Lady Abigail, what is on your mind?”
“Ah, Lady Diane, how good to see you again. How’s the hoof?”
“It’s been better, I’m afraid, may I sit?”
“Of course, of course, please join me. That is most terrible news, I offer my condolences to your pain and wish you the speediest of recoveries.”
“Thank you, Lady Abigail, but tell me now of your troubles.”
“Only that my last flesh and blood is marrying today and I worry that the law that took Martha from us is still here fifty years later.”
“Still fighting the good fight, even unto dotage?”
“I shall never give up. It was not fair what they did to us. What they took from us.” “Come now, it’s not all bad.”
“Maybe it wouldn’t have been had I been given a choice in the matter.”
“True. True.”
“I worry now for her. What secret desires does her husband-to-be have? I shudder.”
“It’s been many years since the lords seemed as inclined to abuse this power as they once did.”
“Maybe, but they still can and I know in secret some continue to do so.”
“I’m sure of that, but perhaps things have improved a bit? I mean most of the woman changed now have that ephemeral look of a fairy maiden. Oh, like the one Lady Katherine, rest her soul, had. Quite becoming if you ask me, and a far sight better than having a set of hooves.”
“Any form that is not their own choice is too much, in my opinion. It always has been, you know that.”
“I do. You’ve not changed in all these years. Still fiery and ready to take on the Lord’s Parliament. I fear any man that tries to take you to your final rest for you shall come up out of the tomb and berate him about the state of your proper burial.”
“Ah, am I so bad?”
“Maybe you should spend less time as the woeful dowager. You’ve been alone now many years since your husband and daughter passed.” “It pleases me to be alone.”
“Perhaps you might be willing to make an exception? Maybe some day I can stop by?”
“That I would graciously make an exception for. Thank you, Lady Diane, but I must go as I see them beginning the seating.”
“Best wishes, Lady Abigail.”
*** *** ***
“Alfred.”
“Katerina?”
“I was wondering, if my new lord husband pleases…”
“Yes?”
‘Would you forgo your Lord’s Right with me?”
“Why, my lady, why would ask such a thing of me? It’s traditional!”
“What if I don’t want to be changed?”
“But what of my rights to have you to my liking?”
“Why should your rights, overrule my wishes? Am I not beautiful? Am I not all you need as I am?”
“Yes, but, it has always been thusly. Why it is such an honor to have the call of a magician to make one into a bride to be envied by all.”
“Even if I don’t want to?” “How can you say that? Every girl will envy you! Your very presence will be a monument to beauty.”
“And your power.”
“Huh, well, yes, but doesn’t every girl dream of this?”
“No, my lord husband, we dream of being loved for whom we are.”
“How can you not see that this is something special.”
“I don’t want to be special like that. I wish to be special as I am.”
“This is, most unseemly, and to think on our wedding night!”
“Will you cast me off then?”
“What?”
“Will you cast me off, make me a monument to your power and rights at the cost of my humanity?”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t suppose you do.”
“This is most distressing; how can you be so bold as to refuse this?”
“I make bold because I wish to be myself.”
“And if I demand?”
“As my lord husband wills, so it shall be, but the price may be my heart.”
“I so will it.” “I see.”
*** *** ***
“Grandmother.”
“Why so formal, child? Are those tears you bring to me on your wedding night?”
“They are.”
“And you?”
“I challenged him, grandmother, I ask him to forgo the Lord’s Right.”
“And he did not?”
“No, he would not. He wills his rights over the love of my heart.”
“I feared it might be so. Come take your time. Let me light a lamp.”
“No, please, leave it dark for a bit longer. Grandmother, it was horrible. He bedded me as his right, our marital bed made at last. I hoped he might love me for who I am, even if I am a political pawn, a measure of his stature. But he rejected my heart and took my body.”
“Alas, my granddaughter, what has he done to you?”
“He said I was a demon sent to challenge the will of men, and he would have me exposed unto the world as such.”
“And he called the magician?” “He had already been waiting in the parlor of our marital suite for the rites to be completed.”
“So then, you come wet with tears to me fresh from his harsh fingers?”
“Yes, grandmother. His fingers, his eyes, the blaze of his magic as it crept through me. I’ve dared not look at what it’s done to me, but I feel it. Every moment I feel it. I could feel the pulsing through my body as I changed. I can’t begin to describe it. The pain, the pleasure, warped around me. I can’t even say now if I could tell what was what.”
“Let me strike a light, it is too dark for me to see. Your footfalls have already told me much, that you too now have hooves. In this at least we are alike.”
“That is true, grandmother, I no longer have toes to walk barefoot down the silently corridors as I once did.”
“Oh my!”
“There is no mirror grandmother, what do you see?”
“I see the young woman I raised to be strong and wise before me.”
“Grandmother, please, what do you see?”
“I see eyes that still sparkle, like sapphires.”
“Grandmother!”
“Very well. I see a demoness, a being of lust. I can the great dark feathered wings you wear about you as a cloak. I can see the long tail that thrashes across the floor, tipped like a spade. I can see the dark blue skin that was once kissed by the golden sun delicate, soft and fair. Heavy are the dark locks of hair that were once blonde as the clearest honey. I can see the dark horns that curl around your pointed ears, heavy and sinister, just as I can see the cloven hooves upon your feet. I can smell your musk, and I see your bosom heave as if to attract even the most distracted gaze. Your lips pout, but reveal fangs with each word that you say. This is what I see.”
“Am I then?”
“No. You only seem these things to those who do not look deeper, just as I only seem to be a mare. The magic changes your form, not your mind. You are still the woman I raised you to be.”
“Oh grandmother, what shall I do?”
“My granddaughter, you are now a demoness. Perhaps it is time we teach these men that you should not play with fire. And some day, child of my heart, we shall right the wrongs of this law.” |
Everyone wondered what his costume was, and some even dared to suggest that he didn’t have one at all; Andy simply smiled, nodded and moved along as if nothing had happened, knowing full well that if he said anything, that would completely ruin the surprise. He was constantly looking at his watch, counting down the minutes until midnight while the rest of his friends were busy discussing what they were going to drink next, and the rest of the party-goers got hammered on whatever pumpkin-based concoction happened to be next to them. The whole concept of disguises and costumes was nothing more than a formality at that get-together; the real reason why him and his coworkers organized a Halloween party was to get wasted while wearing the cheapest piece of cloth they could pretend was a cape, or after smearing some red paint on their face and calling it blood. That year though, Andy had a much better idea.
With fifteen minutes to spare, he excused himself, telling his friends he was going to the bathroom to make room for the next round of vodka shots. No one really cared, and indeed none seemed to notice he was gone at all, giving him all the time in the world to slink away behind the large country house they were hosting the party at and find a secluded spot out near the woods. The sky was clearing, the cloud cover thinning out considerably, and the reflected moonlight shone cooly on his fur. He could hear the wind in the distance, could feel the chill seeping in, and took a deep breath; it was cold that night, but it soon would be red-hot, courtesy of the transformation he had lined up for himself. It would only be good for that one night, and he’d probably be feeling the headache for days to come, but if it all went according to plan then everything would be worth it.
Andy removed a small autoinjector from an inner pocket, then lifted his sleeve and pressed the needle hole against his arm. The pinprick hurt somewhat, but the accompanying anesthetics made it easy to endure; after that, the chilliness began to vanish gradually, replaced by a rising heat building up asymmetrically inside of him, spreading from the injection spot all the way to the other end of his body, filling him with a sense of raw power that he hadn’t experienced since the last time he and Rebecca got frisky with chemicals in the bedroom. When he opened his eyes, it wasn’t darkness he saw in front of him, but an alien colour gradient that it took him a few seconds to realize was infra-red, the predatory instincts kicking in when his heightened sense of smell began to pick up the surprising amount of sexual pheromones being produced by a few happy couples inside of the house. Up above, the moon sat, waiting for him to look up towards it.
So he did.
His clothes became very tight all of a sudden, as if they’d just shrunk down several sizes, leaving Andy feeling like he was being gripped from every direction. This lasted for only a few short seconds, as the cloth was rapidly ripped to pieces and turned into little more than tatters hanging off of his form as it bulged outwards, his arm and legs sculpting themselves as their constituent muscles inflated with extra mass, his torso widening and thickening to meet the demands. His whole body was expanding in spurts, with each heartbeat bringing the moon-activated serum to the rest of him, spreading the corruption until it permeated every inch of him, every vein, every capillary; the fox looked to the side and marvelled as his biceps seemed to grow whenever he flexed them, looked down and grinned maniacally at his rock-hard pecs and six-pack abs. He looked around and felt like he was on top of the world when the trees grew smaller by the moment, seven feet of height being cleared, then eight, then nine! Andy found himself at a good twelve before the transformation petered out, and yet somehow, that wasn’t the best part of it.
The serum had been advertised to him as a general enhancer, and that meant more than just giving him an athlete’s build and enough size to topple over a small house. Down below, between his legs, hung a monstrously large cock, easily long enough that, even though it had just been coaxed out of its sheath, it already hung close to his knees, with an accompanying set of balls that swung ponderously with each movement, overinflated yoga balls that squished heavily against the inside of his legs. He could feel them clench slightly every few seconds, coinciding with spurts of precum firing from his tip, one that was pointing upwards rather than towards the ground; his member was already almost fully turgid, the transformation having been enough to leave him hot and bothered all over, and it didn’t take a lot of convincing himself before Andy had both of his hands wrapped tightly around that shaft, pumping it for all it was worth.
His stamina seemed to have been improved as well, because he certainly didn’t recall any time in the past where it took him that long to achieve climax. He must’ve spent a good fifteen minutes stroking himself, eventually succumbing to the need and rubbing his cock against his own chest before finally hitting his limit, thick ropes of cum firing from his turgid rod and slamming heavily against the underside of his chin and the side of his face, after the fox hugged that beast as close to his chest as possible. The vulpine giant collapsed, the ground quaking when his body fell onto it and kicked up large dust clouds, obscuring his vision… but not his sense of self.
He didn’t want to believe it at first, especially since it hadn’t been listed as a potential side-effect, but he was still growing. Whether it had always been happening and he just didn’t notice, or if it was a result of his orgasm, he didn’t know, but he could feel the earth shift and move underneath him as his legs grew longer and his torso even wider. Down below, those nuts of his were digging large grooves on the dirt as they continued to fill, Andy’s spunk pooling into a small lake behind him, spreading in oddly misshapen globs once his head hit it at full speed. His entire frame was glistening underneath the moonlight, small droplets of sweat reflecting its light back and showing off every contour of his toned musculature. And just as quickly as it had restarted, it stopped again, giving Andy just enough time to breathe in and try to make sense of the situation.
He was clearly much larger; sitting down placed his head nearly as high as he had just been standing up, and that came with a proportional boost to the rest of him too. He didn’t want to get back up, since that would alert everyone as to what had happened to him; he did want to show off, but at no point did Andy expect the growth to be so severe that he’d end up being nearly as tall as their party house! Surely his friends would be more terrified than aroused, even if he was swinging around a cock that was longer than most of them were tall, along with… wait, what was he saying? Of course they were going to be aroused by that! They were all drunk off their asses too, why would they care if he showed up like that?
Indeed, everyone’s reaction to the sudden emergence of the colossal fox was to start clapping like idiots and loudly proclaim how that year’s entertainment was really pulling out all the stops with the VFX budget, nevermind the fact that there were no visual effects earmarked for that year (not after the utter disaster that had been the 2018 celebrations). A few even went so far as to get up from their chairs or their spots on the ground and stumble towards Andy, who was both highly confused and incredibly amused at how little of an impact his arrival had; surely, at some point, someone was bound to question why there was a literal giant fox wielding a cock bigger than most of them were… and yet no one did. It was as if he was the most normal thing in the world, at least when viewed through the lens created by several shots of unholy, high-alcohol-content mixtures. This at least gave him some room to be comfortable in, since if no one was going to kick up a fuss about it, he could afford to show off to everyone.
Unfortunately for him though, his body had different plans. The serum was either tainted or he was sold on the wrong thing, because the second the cloud cover overhead cleared away and revealed the full moon again, Andy felt that familiar tightness spreading inside of him again. His eyes shot wide open, trying to take in his physical form before it began expanding again, his mind racing with the possibilities; surely it had to stop at some point, no? He couldn’t just… keep going, could he? And if he could, then would he want that? Would he want to become a macro-sized vulpine infused by moonlight for as long as the serum was being pumped through his veins? At first he might’ve said yes, but without Rebecca by his side, it all felt just a bit too lonely for his taste… though all of those highly excitable little ones underneath him were a good consolation prize.
Many of them had to clumsily roll out of the way of Andy’s paws, which began digging large trenches on the ground when their next growth spurt hit them, the fox giant’s claws sinking deeply into the earth and excising huge chunks of rock whenever he raised his feet. He stumbled backwards, having to twirl around to avoid slamming into the house and utterly destroy it, what with his head now being as tall as the roof, and within seconds taller still; somehow, against all odds, Andy had outgrown the three-story country home they rented out for their party, and if not for the fact that it was a small manor, he would’ve been wider than it was as well! Every breath he took flooded him with the cold night air, a stark reminder of just how colossal his body was, serving to bring him back to reality whenever he began feeling too hazy or unsure of the details; every breath reset him, unwilling to let him go too far deep into the pit of self-indulgent madness gnawing at his very core. He wanted to give into it, wanted to willingly surrender and do something about that torso-length shaft of his, but he couldn’t, not in front of everyone else; even the drunkest of the drunks were starting to wonder just what exactly was going on, and why their supposed VFX show was leaving gashes on the ground and ripping large sections off the roofing when it was just supposed to be a spooky hologram. A minority had finally convinced themselves of the reality, though strangely enough they began to step forward rather than try and put some distance between themselves and Andy; the fox, for his part, had his nose inundated by a mounting cloud of pheromones, signalling to him just what exactly was on those persons’ minds. He couldn’t blame them, to be fair, not when he was both completely nude and actively trying to show off both his immense package and ripped, bulging body; he’d be more insulted if they didn’t try to jump his bones!
Though this did pose a bit of a problem, because what exactly was he supposed to do when even the largest of his friends and coworkers weren’t even enough to take his tip, much less the rest of the gargantuan shaft he had attached to himself? Without Rebecca there to “help” him, clearly the only way to go about it would be to service himself, but what about everyone else?
The answer came from an unlikely source: one of the people in charge of the accounting department, a vixen who could not handle her booze regardless of how many snacks she tried to smother it with, began to climb one of his legs. It was haphazard and didn’t really work, plus Andy had to catch her after she fell when halfway to his knee to stop her from hurting herself, but it gave everyone else the same idea; within just a few seconds, most of the party-goers were nipping at his heels trying to find some leverage in order to climb his towering frame, prompting the giant fox to do something about it… which he did, by allowing his instincts to kick in and slowly falling backwards until his back was flat against the ground. Just like that, no one had to endanger themselves to climb onto him, and now they could also pick any part of his body they wanted to attend to!
Predictably, most of them went for the exact same three spots, though surprisingly a vast majority went with his two colossal cumtanks rather than his shaft, which gave him the perfect opportunity to finally do something about that aching pressure he’d been feeling for some time. Finally on the ground, feeling that monster throbbing against his chest, its tip directly above his head and showering it in pre, it’d be hard not to succumb to the desire to open his mouth wide and welcome his own cock into it, which was made slightly difficult by virtue of the full moon shining on him again.
Andy almost choked on his own length when the next growth spurt forced his body to take up even more land, one of his feet barreling through the walls of the house and ending up emerging from the other side, all while that shaft he was carrying grew so long as to go past his head, and thick enough to cover a good half of his torso, now looking more like a leathery oak tree than anything else, and one that oozed gallons upon gallons of thick seed every second to boot. Andy was exhausted, and yet he still wanted to keep going, to push his body past his limits and to force it to give him the pleasurable release that he desperately needed and was denied by the latest moonlight infusion. His hands moved of their own accord, stroking that massive rod of his, while the party-goers found new and inventive ways to have fun with a body that large and well-endowed. All Andy himself could do was give in to his instincts and surrender his better judgement to muscle memory… and then hope that things figured themselves out down the line.
Besides, the clouds were clearing up again. And the serum was nowhere near done. |
It’d been a while since last the two of them engaged in that sort of debauchery, but the time spent waiting just made the final payoff that much more delicious. The two friends scheduled their night out a couple of weeks in advance, and when the day arrived they could barely get through work without turning into a giggly mess whenever the thought strayed close enough to consciousness that they couldn’t avoid focusing on it. Rioku in particular was ecstatic for the opportunity to try out a new hand pump; the previous attempts had all used a foot-based variety that, while still effective, felt a bit too impersonal. Now, however, now him and Ken could indulge in the exact kind of debased lewdness that they’d always dreamed of, the same kind that they both had saved up on their hard drives in frankly absurd quantities; rather than chancing it by applying more or less pressure on a pedal, the two of them would be able to see just how far down the pump’s handle went, giving them the perfect view of how tightly they were going to stretch the cheetah, and allowing them to play into every size-based fantasy they could possibly think of.
For Ken, having to clock off work and then return home, only to be forced to sit there and wait for Rioku to show up, was borderline torture; he had his own sets of pumps he could use, of course, but he promised to save himself for when his friend came around, and he meant that. The big cat even went so far as to deliberately deny himself for the weeks leading up to that night, with his need for release having reached such a peak that the cheetah managed to surprise himself with how much he wanted to beg and moan and whine and plead for the husky to let him cum his brains out. It was going to be part of their little process, that much was certain; Rioku would slowly bloat him up, he would scream out for any chance of being allowed sweet release, and it would be denied to him for as long as the canid felt was necessary.
Be it minutes or hours, the cheetah had to be ready to “suffer” for as long as he was told to, knowing that it would make the final climax so much sweeter for each second he spent not experiencing it. Thus, when he heard the knock on his front door, the feline had to spend a good ten seconds or so just calming himself down, lest he show up in front of Rioku with his entire body shaking, his legs barely capable of holding him up; deep breaths, one after the other, did enough of the trick to get him to just calm down enough to hold a conversation, though he still had to keep one hand on the wall to keep himself from toppling over or tripping over the carpet.
His sheer lack of self-control was evident, and though Rioku clearly noticed it when the front door was opened and the cheetah revealed himself, the husky said nothing to that effect; rather, he merely raised his new hand pump, slowly, painstakingly so, until it was at eye level with the both of them. The canine kept it there, held aloft in the air, as he stared Ken down… or rather, as he stared at Ken, while the cat’s eyes were focused entirely on the contraption in front of them, glistening with unbridled glee at the promises that it held. He was, at that moment, entirely under Rioku’s spell, which the husky took advantage of by pulling the pump away, giving the cheetah a celebratory pat on the ass, then inviting himself in and heading straight for the living room; no point delaying the proceedings, plus the two of them would need as much room as they could get!
Not that the cat was thinking of turning himself into a blimp, but he wasn’t the most graceful of bloaters, needing every inch of free space as possible to avoid him accidentally bumping into every straight edge and jagged, spiky corner in sight; the last thing Rioku wanted was to have to drive his friend to the hospital because he couldn’t balance himself with a little extra air weight inside his gut. As for Ken, he took his time walking to the living room himself, having to take several breaks in the small trek between the front door and his final destination; even when he did emerge into the open room, he did so with a brow covered in sweat and two hands wringing one another, the picture of nervousness… though, the bulge he sported between his legs made it clear just what his primal lizard brain actually thought of what was about to happen.
Though the cheetah might be shivering all over, they still walked closer to the couch, they still sat down beside the husky, and they still kept staring at the pump, eager to see what it could do to him; though they were practically babbling whenever they tried speaking, unable to form coherent sentences, their hands still approached the handle and gave it an experimental push, whole body flinching when they felt a small current of air brush against their face from below. Though their eyes were wide open, it wasn’t in fear: it was anticipation the cat was feeling, and it was anticipation that Rioku banked on when he deliberately took his sweet time grabbing the pump and preparing it, asking Ken to “get ready”, a sign for the big cat to bend over and take his pants off.
Ken did so, albeit at a glacial pace; not necessarily because he wanted to draw things out (even though he did), but due mostly to his hands shaking so uncontrollably that even something as simple as undoing his belt took significantly longer than it normally did… long enough for Rioku to start humming as he experimentally pumped the handle a few times, making sure the nuzzle was pointed directly at some exposed part of Ken’s body; the flinching, the wincing, the small little whimpers that came with it every time, they all served to further entice the husky, enough so that, once he saw the cheetah’s tailhole, he didn’t even hesitate.
Normally he’d take some more time before he shoved the pump nozzle in there, but he was horny, he was impatient, and the cat clearly wanted it at least as badly as he himself did (if not more!), so why wait? The yelp-turned-moan that escaped from Ken’s lips was proof enough that the feline was desperate for a filling, as was the fact that the poor guy slumped to the floor immediately afterwards, pants still around his ankles, his tongue lolling free from a mouth that broke out into a wide, misshapen smile. His muscles limp, there was nothing the cheetah could do that could stop the coming pumping, which was precisely the point; both him and Rioku adored playing into the “trapped, helpless balloon” angle, even if they never quite reached the sizes they usually saw on videos online.
Still, what they did do would be more than enough, and as soon as Ken felt the first gush of air be pumped into him, his hands immediately flew to his belly as he tried to turn around to end up on his back, that he may watch as his gut swelled and took up an increasing amount of space on top of him.
It was always the same, regardless of how many time the two went through with it, and every single time it was always as delectable, always as unexpected, always as much of a new experience; it was as if it was so out of the ordinary that the cheetah’s body refused to save any information on it, figuring that it would never happen again, leaving him helpless and without any frame of reference for the next time he had a nozzle stuck inside of him and a growth-happy husky controlling the air intake. Every time he would bring his fingers over to his belly, then remember to haphazardly remove his shirt so he could better see himself stretch; wouldn’t do to watch his gut slow turn into a dome with fabric in the way, not when he could both feel and see himself become far larger than he had any right to be.
At first, things didn’t look so out of the ordinary; if one disregarded the fact that the expansion was taking place at a far quicker pace than it normally would, the cheetah merely went from a flat gut to having it slightly round out, appearing as if he’d had a particularly heavy meal and then went for seconds on top of it. Only Ken would know the truth, know that it came not from him gorging himself, but from successive pumps of air pushing his midriff outwards, from Rioku’s enthusiastic motions pushing the handle down and forcing the hand pump to fill him up; if the cat tried pushing his fingers into his body, he wouldn’t find soft pudge, but rather hardened skin, stretched taut and close to audibly complaining about all the strain.
Of course, it wouldn’t stop there, as neither the husky nor the chee were in any position to be satisfied with just a slight bloating. Rather, they would keep going, adding progressively more air into the feline’s belly, driving up pressure to such an extent that the only way their body could react was to make more room in a desperate bid to bring it down, nevermind the fact that such a thing shouldn’t be possible. And indeed, while the bloating itself might take place, that didn’t mean Ken’s body took to it willingly; it resisted the process every step of the way, leaving the poor guy stuck in the middle of not knowing whether to feel endless agony or the most potent pleasure imaginable, his brain unable to discern between the two.
The confusing mess of sensory feedback kept him well and confused enough that he failed to notice his belly continuously growing outwards, stretching his skin and fur out until the two were actually discernible from one another; while usually the latter fully covered the former, the chee’s gut quickly reached a state where he simply lacked the amount of fuzz needed to keep the skin beneath it from being revealed: reddened, obviously strained out to the breaking point, and already showing signs of stretch marks forming in long, jagged patterns over its surface. These would join up with the ones already there, of course; it wasn’t the first time Ken and Rioku did something like this, and it was really only the feline’s fur coating that kept others from seeing just how pockmarked his front was, the “love marks” running all the way down from his pecs to his waist.
The longer the pumping carried on, the more these became pronounced, as the weight pinning Ken to the ground grew higher and more unwieldy, as the curvature of his belly expanded to the point where his hands drifted further and further apart; it didn’t take much longer before his skin began to actually groan loudly enough for both of them to hear, which should have served as a warning sign for them to stop, but, as always, merely egged them on further. It was a sign alright, a sign that they had reached the point they wanted to reach, and a sign that they should keep going, since the actual endpoint hadn’t yet made itself known to them; sure, it was incredibly dangerous, but both Rioku and Ken liked the idea of toeing the line like that, of living life on the razor’s edge… Ken especially, given that it was his body the two were bringing to its very limits and then beyond.
More and more air, more pumps, further stretching him out until the cheetah could see as the edge of his gut’s curve, the edge of the dome so to speak, began crawling up his chest, desperate for any room it could find to relieve the infernal pressure inside of it; there would be no release, obviously, not until the nozzle was removed and Ken allowed to vent, prompting the expanding belly to take up most of his front, even managing to warp and distend part of his waistline as his insides were pushed further apart by the ludicrous amounts of pressurized gas inside of him. Ken could practically feel it at the back of his throat, despite it supposedly being tasteless, the sensation of pressure attempting to find any valve through which to lower itself; he made sure to keep his jaw shut, that not an ounce would escape into the outside world.
After all, he had to make sure that every single pump filled him up as much as it could, even when each and every one came accompanied with a pang of pain, a sliver of agony that his lust-addled brain then twisted into becoming raw carnal bliss, delivered to him with a serotonin hit that made him forget about everything other than the next hit, the next pump; it didn’t matter that, were he to try and hug his belly, he wouldn’t be capable of pressing his fingertips together. It hardly mattered that, were he to try and get up to walk, the best he’d manage would be a waddle, if even that. The only important factor was how big he could get, how red he could make his skin, how stretched-out he could go, how many stretch marks he could acquire as a sort of morbid souvenir of his growthventures; anything and everything else was irrelevant, to the point where Ken barely even noticed when the end began approaching.
Just like the rest, it was always the same, in the sense that there was always a pressure spike in a very specific area that heralded when the cheetah’s belly was reaching maximum capacity. Like a spear pushing through him from the inside out, it pointed directly at his bellybutton, the one part of his rotund gut that yet refused to bulge out, remaining firmly facing inwards… though not for long. Eventually, the pressure would become too much, Rioku’s handling far too enthusiastic for the chee’s body to handle; eventually, his belly would become a balloon of such high air concentration that there would need to be a final sacrifice, one last change before the two of them realized that maybe it was time to stop before things went too far. And that change came when the husky pushed down on the handle one last time, when Ken let loose his final yelp-shout for the night, when the cheetah’s bellybutton loudly popped, going from inwards-facing to outwards.
The transformation was complete, and now the cheetah was stuck. The nozzle wouldn’t come out until Rioku was done enjoying the view, but that was fine.
It gave Ken something to do with his time as well. |
Service with a Smile
"What is it, sister?" a barely hushed voice asked. It was smooth and sensuous but the tone and pacing of the words betrayed an impatience and excitement.
"I am not sure, sister." Said a similar voice, it was much like the one that had spoke prior to it, but slowly, more patient, and most definitely aware of what did and did not constitute a whisper.
"It looks like a dragon, sister." The more rash and hyper voice said.
"It DOES look like a dragon, sister. But it is fuzzy." The calmer replied.
"It is very fuzzy. It looks delightfully soft. And also cute."
"It is indeed very cute, and soft, and likely quite warm. Cold blooded creatures seldom have fur."
"And it is likely a dragon. Dragons are usually very warm."
"And look at the way it has its wings wrapped around itself as it sleeps, making itself even warmer. It looks perfect for our uses. Don't you think, sister?"
The louder, more rambunctious voice giggled, "Oh yes, it does indeed, though one wonders if it is male or if it is female. It is so very hard to see with those wings covering most everything."
The calmer voice chuckled as well, "Male or female, it does not particularly matter. Gender is of no consequence to our magic. Its warmth will serve us well in incubating our eggs within its soft furred body."
-o-
Skarth yawned and stretched. The yawning part went according to plan, but the stretching was severely limited by the presence on manacles on his wrists and ankles. The bipedal manadragon blinked his eyes and looked around in confusion. He found himself not only strapped to some sort of large stone slab, but totally bereft of clothes as well. What was more worrisome is that his messenger pouch was nowhere within sight.
He had a letter to deliver to someone in the swamp, and it was quite important that it arrive. Skarth's superior had been quite clear on this point, it was incredibly important for diplomatic relations that the message reach its intended target.
"Umm... hello?" he called into the darkness, wincing at the echo. "I didn't mean to trespass or anything, I just stopped to take a nap. I have a message to deliver to Lillith Ekkis, do you know where she lives?"
Four eyes opened in the darkness, two red and two blue.
"I am Lillith." Said a slow, quiet voice.
"I am Ekkis." Said a louder, more boisterous voice that seemed to be barely concealing a giggle.
"My sister and I thank you for your delivery." Lillith said as the two approached the captive manadragon.
"The letter is an order for several of the magical creatures my sister and I craft." Ekkis virtually purred.
"And your arrival is most fortunate, as warm blood is needed in their creation." Lillith said, white fangs glimmering as they caught the light. "And you are indeed very warm."
"And also soft." Ekkis added.
"Very soft, but mostly warm." Lillith agreed.
The twin sorceresses slithered into the small cone of light. Skarth gasped at the sight of them, for they were one, two heads atop a single serpentine body. Pure black scales gleamed in the light, the right half of their body sporting red stripes, the left blue, merging to a deep purple.
The sorceresses smiled at him, their clawed hands stroked Skarth's fur, all three moaned softly.
"Equally soft and warm." Lillith, the blue head, purred, "Both of great importance to us."
"Warm for the eggs, and soft for us." Ekkis said with a giggle.
Skarth's fur fluffed in a blush and his member began to swell at the mention of eggs. "And... uh... what are you planning to do with these eggs, exactly?" he asked shyly.
"Put them in you, of course!" the twin serpents said simultaneously.
The dragon's arousal grew. He rather liked playing with eggs, pushing them into himself, expelling them again; big eggs, little eggs, all kinds of eggs. He had a large collection of rather sturdy, rather smooth egg shaped toys that he used for indulging his desires.
"Don't worry, little puffball, we will be gentle. You will carry them and warm them until they can be hatched, and then you will lay them." Lillith purred, patting his cheek.
"There will be no pain. Our magic will ensure that you can take all that we have to offer without discomfort. Though..." Ekkis paused, looking downward.
"Why dear sister," she said with a huge grin, "It appears that our fuzzy dragon has some sort of interest in being filled with eggs."
Lillith's gaze went to the manadragon's erection, her own lips parting in a wide grin as well. "Most certainly he does, unless, of course, he has a great interest in serpentine women."
"Perhaps both?" Ekkis offered.
Skarth only blushed deeper, rather embarrassed to be the center of attention as he was.
"It's both." He said softly, shyly, cutely.
With a wave of their hands, the twins summoned a large basket filled with eggs. The size of a hen's egg, they were colored differently, each a bright green that glowed and pulsed softly in the near darkness of the room. Lillith plucked one from the basket and began to lick it, while Ekkis wrapped her scaled hand around Skarth's cock and began to stroke.
The manadragon moaned softly and bucked gently into her grip, drawing giggles from both sisters.
"I think he will make a wonderful egg warmer, sister." Lillith purred.
"I think he will make a wonderful bed warmer, sister." Ekkis added.
The blue serpent brought the egg to the tip of Skarth's member, the manadragon's erection glistening and slick with precum. She rubbed it over the slit, pushing ever so slightly, teasing him with it.
Ekkis bent her long, flexible neck as only a snake could, putting her eye to crotch with Skart. "Hmm, my dear sister, I do believe our soft little dragon has done something like this before."
Lillith's smile widened and the egg in her hand began to change, growing larger. It retained its green color, but the pulses of light turned it blue when they blossomed.
"Wonderful. Then he will greatly enjoy the gift this egg will grant him, allowing him to be filled with as many eggs as we desire, all without pain, discomfort, or much of a mess." She hissed.
The twin serpents' shared form crouched, both heads just inches away from the manadragon. Skarth couldn't contain himself anymore, with a soft growl the manadragon thrust as far as his bonds would allow, his seed splattering over his belly, legs, and tail, as well as the hands and heads of both sorceresses.
"Some messes are enjoyable." Ekkis giggled and began to lick her sister clean.
"Oh yes, and useful too. Especially now that our little enchantment egg is fully powered, and is now all slick and ready to go in." Lillith added, before returning the licking.
Skarth's fur stood on end as the egg was pushed into his member. It vibrated softly with the magical power contained within, power that began to flow into the manadragon's body. He felt things move and shift slightly within him and a strange sensation filled every bit of him for a moment, and then it was gone.
Unfortunately so was the egg inside of him. Skarth looked up at the sorceresses, a pleading look in his eyes. Somehow the basket of small eggs had vanished, and had been replaced with a singular, large egg. Larger than anything Skarth had taken in his egg play before.
He opened his muzzle to protest, but the serpents lifted the egg and began to push it into his tailhole. The manadragon's protests were muted by a long, drawn out moan of purest pleasure as his rump stretched to accommodate the heavy egg.
It grew wider and wider, entering him with only minimal resistance. He felt his insides clutching at it, his own muscles helping to pull it inward into himself. The manadragon felt hungry, famished, but not for food. He felt empty, he needed something inside of him to fill the aching void.
His belly bulged slightly as the egg was halfway into him. With a two handed shove from the serpents, Skarth's body was able to pull it fully in by itself. As the last of the shell vanished into him with a soft slurping sound, the manadragon shivered with pleasure. His body had rewarded him for taking the egg inside himself by giving him a sort of internal climax.
"And now to energize the egg." Lillith said.
"And give our fuzzy little dragon a bit of fun as well." Ekkis added.
Both sisters looked downward. In the middle of their scaled body, just below where their form widened in an imitation of the curvy hips of a bipedal creature, was a barely visible divide in the scales. The lip parted ever so slightly as their cock slithered out.
There was only one, unlike a true serpent. Unlike the rest of their body, it was brightly colored, a startling shade of purple. It was long and thin, and very dexterous and flexible, quite tentacle-like.
"Oh sister, it has been so long..." whispered Ekkis.
"So long since we have properly mated, rather than simply filling ourselves with our maleness." Lillith answered.
The two seemed to ignore Skarth, their muzzles meeting in a kiss, arms wrapping around their shared torso in hug. The sorceresses reared up on their tail, lowering themselves onto the manadragon.
Compared to the egg that had just been pushed into him, their cock was nothing, and yet his rump gripped it just as tightly. He could see why they desired warmth, while not cold, the member that slithered deeper and deeper into him felt cool against his insides.
He could feel the tip of their cock pressing against something inside of him, something that was quickly coaxed open. Coaxed open and made him feel so very good as he was filled.
Skarth adored having something inside of him like this, be it and egg or a cock, but the pleasure that this penetration gave him was something new, new and better. He felt himself instinctively begin to milk the serpentcock, eager to fertilize the huge egg placed inside his new egg pouch.
The sisters began to focus on him now, and Skarth found two serpentine tongue suddenly seeking entry into his mouth. He closed his eyes and allowed them entry, enjoying the sweet kiss.
Clawed fingers stroked his furred body, caressed his feathered wings, slipping beneath the chains of his bonds, unlocking them.
The manadragon took advantage of the situation, hugging the serpents tightly, wrapping his feathered wings around them, being the good and snuggly bed warmer that they wanted him to be.
His legs had been freed as well, and he wrapped them around the twins' waist, pulling their cock even deeper into him. His cock rubbed against the soft, smooth scales of their underbelly.
"Such a wonderful little toy we have, sister." Lillith whispered, breaking the kiss with Skarth.
"Yes we do, sister, he feels so very wonderful when we play with him." Ekkis hissed through clenched teeth in reply.
"Mmm... c-c-can I get a.... AH! Word in?" Skarth moaned.
The two serpents scowled at him.
"Hush, toy."
"Yes, hush."
"Don't ruin the moment."
"Or no more eggs for you." They teased, silencing him once again with their tongues.
The manadragon felt the sisters tense. Having just recently climaxed, he didn't think he could be brought to feel the sensation again so quickly. But as the hermie serpent seed flooded into him, making the egg in his belly quiver with magical force, he felt himself driven to the brink as he had never been before.
Like the egg crammed into his cock, this one seemed to pump magic into his body, making him feel strange. He felt the sensation of his form beginning to warp and he grinned, snuggling and placing his head between the sisters' own, eager to enjoy his new job.
-o-
Skarth yawned and stretched, slowly uncoiling his serpentine lower body from around his mistresses' own tail. He didn't miss his legs one bit, being all tail below the waist allowed him to be filled with so many more eggs.
He put his hands to his fat, rounded middle. Massively pregnant, Skarth was currently incubating a specially designed dragon for his owners. The egg was almost as big as Skarth himself.
The manadragon-lamia chuckled soflty, hugging his belly and resting his head on his breasts. Well, kinda-sort breasts. He had discovered that the sorceress' first spell had made his skin elastic and stretchy, and being an inquisitive, egg incubating, curious fluffball, he had pushed eggs into himself there. Lillith and Ekkis had found that incredibly cute, and made them permanent, and milk producing. Breakfast in bed for the twin snakes was just that.
He shifted in the nest-like bed, reaching down and stroking his erection. Near permanent because of the constant presence of eggs, the organ was now used solely for pleasurable purposes, as his digestive system had altered to that of a serpent.
His member looked quite undersized in comparison to the sack below it. Very little usable space went to waste on Skarth warm, fuzzy body. He caressed his scrotum, tracing over all the small eggs kept within.
Just below that was the rounded bulk of his egg-filled tail. The second egg pouch in his lower body, also accessed by the opening that had once been his tailhole, wasn't nearly as full as he would have liked it to be. The sisters demanded proper cuddles, and that meant being able to entwine his tail in theirs.
He lifted his wings, uncovering the slumber serpentesses snuggle up against him. He giggled softly, he had shifted a few eggs around in himself while they slept. Ones that were ready to be sent to their proper owners, as they were properly incubated and able to survive on their own.
He so enjoyed it when the sister had to retrieve them manually, rooting around inside of him, sometimes having to crawl in to the waist. They scolded him for it and called him a naughty fuzzball, but he knew they loved it. After all, he was nice and warm inside. Yes, very warm, as they would say.
"Wake up, Miss Lillith, Miss Ekkis." Skarth purred respectfully, nuzzling their necks with his muzzle. "It's time for breakfast." |
He’d tried everything. Every single diet and workout regimen in the book, combined and conjoined until he was pretty sure he could run five marathons in a row and not even break a sweat, and despite this, not a single bit of muscle to his body.
It was almost impressive; at some point, something ought to have gotten through, what with how much time he’d spent on just about every machine the local gyms had to offer, and yet nothing actually did. He still had the benefits, he wouldn’t deny that much, but the lack of any overt or obvious muscle tone made the whole endeavour just seem… pointless. The whole idea was to bulk up for the annual bodybuilder competition, one that Lex had been a frequent attendee but never a participant of; him being such a scrawny pipsqueak made it all-but impossible to even so much as be accepted into the queue, let alone be allowed to put his name down on the registry.
He was lucky that the local gym rats weren’t the worst sort; they didn’t really laugh him out so much as they tried their best to politely remind him that he was, well… tiny. Barely five feet five and looking more like a scaly stick than anything else, Lex could probably be breathed on by one of the larger contestants and then collapse from the strain. And for that, the lizard had no counterarguments: he was tiny, he was puny, and while he’d gotten rid of the latter through a year of intensive training, he’d made no headway with the former, leaving him baffled as to how his body was even supposed to function. Yes, he was leaner, and yes, if he looked at himself in the mirror he could see his muscle tone was more defined, but he hadn’t gained anything, not even when he started using protein powder in quantities that far surpassed the recommended amount for his body weight.
After a certain point, Lex figured that if the regular stuff wouldn’t cut it, then he’d have to go further, and this logic brought him far beyond the edge, or at least where he assumed his edge was, only to find nothing but barren emptiness all around: no muscles, no bulk, no growth, no anything. Meanwhile, everyone else around him had all the results, almost like he was bleeding muscle build-up into his surroundings and the rest of the gym-goers were picking up the leftovers; it wasn’t fair, and Lex was determined to turn his luck around, even if this meant throwing himself down a rabbit hole that wasn’t exactly the safest, or sanest, or really anything if he had to be honest with himself.
In his hand, a bottle, a small plastic container with a few pills inside of it, ones not officially produced by anyone and not listed on any website, catalogue, or otherwise any category of inventory that anyone could access. In them, a dangerous and volatile mixture of chemicals that Lex himself didn’t know, didn’t understand, and didn’t care enough to ask for clarification on; instead, what he knew was that they were supposed to make him big, and that was all that truly mattered in the end.
Just as long as he ended up huge, he couldn’t care less about the side effects; hell, he’d take being a brute over remaining the twink he was nowadays, and the only thing stopping him from just taking the whole bottle was that last remaining shred of indecision, that one voice in the back of his head telling him to stop and be reasonable. Sitting alone in his own, it was all that Lex could do to stop himself from going overboard; most of his mind was stuck fighting itself, besieging that last redoubt of sense and sensibility, that it may be brought into the fold and the lizard could stop second-guessing his decision to bulk up by overdosing on pills that he bought off someone he was fairly certain didn’t use their real name.
Nothing else had worked, and thus, drastic measures were required; any part of himself that didn’t agree had to be brought to heel, and with his eyes closed and muscles clenched, Lex fought the final battle against his self-restraint, thoroughly obliterating it, layers by layer, until nothing was left of it but a smouldering ruin. Only then could he look down at the bottle in his hand, remove the cap, and tip it towards him, letting the contents rattle down into his mouth, gracing his tongue with their pungent taste, leaving behind a terrible twang when he forcefully swallowed them dry. One gulp, and it was all done, an overdose’s worth of material allowed into his body with not a single care or concern for what it might do to him, left to run wild through his bloodstream… until nothing happened.
He sat there, staring at himself for a good long while, wondering what the issue was; surely, he was supposed to be bigger. The person who sold him those pills showed him videos, videos which certainly looked real, in the sense that they weren't uncanny deepfakes, videos which proved that the people who took those things were made to bloat and swell and bulk up so hard that they achieved their dream forms within seconds. Videos of people who went from scrawny and unimpressive to outright hunks, and videos… which he began to think were, indeed, fabricated.
He’d been lied to, bamboozled, swindled out of several hundred dollars of his hard-earned money, all for a promise no one could ever keep; enraged, the lizard threw the bottle in front of him, and in the process promptly ripped a hole straight through his television. It took him a few seconds to process what had just happened, after which Lex immediately looked down at himself, only to see his arm being the exact same it always had been; bringing his eyes back to the TV, however, it was definitely broken, one huge chunk of it ripped out as the pill bottle had been thrown through it like it was made of tissue paper, a thin splatter of electronics on the wall behind it like some grotesque synthetic blood splatter. It was a testament to how confused he was that the lizard’s second reaction was to loudly proclaim “What the fuck?!” while silently wondering about how costly it would be to get that thing replaced, especially after wasting money on the pills… and then it struck him.
Not just metaphorically either. It was about that time that the heat rising within him truly spiked, bringing itself to the forefront of his mind and nearly bending the poor guy over with how quickly it overtook him, leaving Lex groaning in agony before it dissipated just as rapidly as it first appeared. It would have left him wondering if it was real, if not for the hole in the television and the sudden, and very much noticeable extra mass on his biceps; there was no imagining that, he flexed and suddenly part of his arms just bulked outwards, so much so that he almost tipped forward from how unexpected it was!
Lex barely had the time to wrap his mind around it when the effect, whatever it was, spread to the rest of his arms, turning them from limp noodles to powerful branches in just a single second, leaving precious little, if any time for his brain to adapt. He was numb… but he wouldn’t remain as such for long, not with what was about to happen. For a transformation like his could not happen without his body burning up, and Lex wouldn’t have had it any other way even if he could; to feel as his insides were rearranged, bulked up, pumped out, made to harden and thicken, grow denser and more muscular, that’s what he’d been looking for.
He wanted to see himself go through the process that took others months, years of effort in just the span of a few seconds, because by the heavens above, he had earned the right. He had worked for it, and now he deserved to have his prize given to him, more than anyone else! Hell, he’d worn his tightest and most revealing half-shirt for that occasion, precisely so that, should the pills work, he’d break free of it in perhaps the most symbolic way possible; call him a sucker for cheap theatrics, but there was something beautiful about literally outgrowing one’s clothes in real time. It was the kind of experience that few would ever go through, and Lex was privileged to be one of them, privileged to look down at his arms thickening right in front of his eyes, a change… a change that spread.
He couldn’t quite believe it, but it began travelling closer to his chest, affecting the rest of his upper limbs and invading his torso, leaving him slightly lopsided until the extra muscle mass began to settle uniformly on the rest of his body, pushing him back as the weight of it all made it impossible to lean forward without losing control and crashing on the ground. And yet again, not for long, because a good strong upper body needed a lower one to help compensate, lest one end up terribly unbalanced; at least, that’s what Lex’s form seemed to think, with the heat rising and spreading lower down into his nether regions, then further still until he felt his pants tighten in two entirely different ways.
He didn’t move; the lizard knew better than to interrupt himself when he was going through a good spot, and with the fibres on the denim being stretched to the breaking point by his legs bulking up, he was in the best spot possible. While the shirt up top was merely riding towards his neck the more his pecs bulged out, his pants had really nowhere to go; the skintight jeans were either going to stem the tide or be washed away by it, and judging from how loudly they were groaning, the former option looked to be an outright impossibility.
Nothing could contain him, especially not when the horny energy began bursting forth and his package started to grow as well, and not just in the conventional way either; while he’d never been quite that blessed downstairs, and this hadn’t been a main concern for him, Lex couldn’t deny that he did wonder what it would be like if he had a suitable cock and pair of balls to go along with the rest of his new, improved body. It was a minor disappointment compared to the rest, but a disappointment regardless, and now yet another boon along with the rest of them.
Lex closed his eyes, a wide and slightly-broken smile spreading along his lips as he felt the heat rising still, onwards to feverish levels; maybe he was just hallucinating, the pills having left him in such a state that his brain decided to hallucinate the entire affair. Maybe he was going to wake up some time later, thoroughly spent, covered in cum from his multiple releases, and having enough happy memories to last for a lifetime, but still, ultimately, tiny and defenceless. But, if that was the truth, then what point was there to holding back anymore? If he was just going to wake up anyway, might as well have some fun while he was at it, and demand his body grow even more!
Forcing himself onto his feet, about the last thing Lex could still consciously make himself do, the lizard stood there, wondering if she should do it. He wanted to, and for years he’d been looking at an opportunity to do so, yet never quite developed the muscle mass needed to make it worth his time. It’d be silly to try with his puny, insignificant self, but now that his barrelled chest was about twice as thick, his arms were strong enough that he felt he could bend steel, and his legs were turning into thick trunks of utmost power, well… he needed to, didn’t he?
For the novelty of it all, if nothing else.
So he did: he brought his arms down, balled his hands up into fists, pressed his fingers together, hunched his back… and he flexed. He wasn’t expecting much; maybe just the sensations that came with actually having muscles to flex with, or even just him feeling tight all over. He couldn’t have expected his back to bwoompf out as his shoulders broadened about a foot in every direction, nor could he have ever been prepared for his muscle mass above the waist to nearly double over before the same happened down below… and, perhaps above all else, nothing could have left him even remotely ready for the sound of his shirt and pants, once so perfectly fitting, ripping into tatters as if they were made of wet tissue paper.
It was all he could do to stand there, breathing heavily, trying not to lose his mind as the sensations filtered through, doing his best to rationalise whatever it was that had just happened. He was big, big enough that he could feel how big he was, and he didn’t know what to say; maybe he shouldn’t say anything, but he really, really felt like he should. Such a metamorphosis had to be announced to the world, it couldn’t just be allowed to remain locked inside his home where no one could see it; hell, even knowing that he was going to show off to as many people as he could, Lex still felt like something special was needed, because nothing, absolutely nothing could even begin to compare to what he was feeling at that point.
To call it power overwhelming would still be an understatement; to name it perfection would be but an approximation. As he relaxed his muscles, yet felt tighter still than he ever had in his life, Lex had something approaching an epiphany. Looking down, all he saw was what he’d wanted for so long: himself, hunky, beefy, bulky, the kind of body he would swoon over and drape himself against whenever he had the slightest chance to. But this one was his; it was him, in fact, and no one could take it away from him. If it was fantasy, he would make it real, if it was a dream, he’d tear open the veil between it and reality and force himself through it, taking over what passed for his “true” form so that this could be it. Surrounded by the tattered remnants of his old clothes and lacking even the most basic form of modesty, all Lex could do… was roar.
A rumble, at first, growing in intensity, but soon, all would hear him. Soon, all would know him and what he was, what power he wielded. And soon, they’d all be privy to the glory of him.
After he was done flexing some more, of course. He had a few lost years to catch up on. |
He knew the risks. Time and time again he kept poking and prodding and making passes at them, suggestions and comments and so many other things that he insisted were nothing more than “mere musings”, designed specifically to needle through their defenses until there was nothing left but acceptance. The lynx tried their best to ignore it, and not just for their own sake; the last time the two of them indulged one another, the universe had to be reset and they spent quite a few long years putting everything back in its place before time was allowed to flow again, and that just ruined their planned vacation completely. Thus, the feline had gone to great lengths to prevent any such excess from taking place again, especially if it came from their partner’s side; unfortunately for them, said partner wasn’t at all interested in keeping up with his promises, being far more taken by the allure of obscenity and self-indulgence at any given opportunity, not to mention the notion that, if they were already basically deities, they might as well start acting like it. This, above all other things, was what motivated Spikes to spend several months making constant remarks about how great it would be if he was fed so much that he turned into a blob of sorts, not because he wanted to spill over onto the outside world (absolutely not), but purely for the sake of personal experimentation; Tim wasn’t convinced, nor were they willing to even so much as consider the idea, though they were at least polite enough to stare at the Rena menacingly whenever his insistence started to cross a few lines.
Sadly, patience wasn’t an infinite resource, and both of them knew it; Spikes in particular was more than aware that the moment he got through his partner’s defences, what he’d find wouldn’t be an annoyed kitten brandishing their claws, but full acceptance and a mind about as lewd as his own, desperate for an opportunity to cut loose and do what had to be done to maximize their collective pleasure. This was how things worked between the two of them, this was how they had always worked, and this was how they were going to work, whether or not either of them had anything to say about it; thus, it was only a matter of time, patience and some minor inventiveness, and all the Rena had to do was keeping making jokes, comments and quips about how good he’d look while fat for the lynx to inevitably break down one day and give him exactly what he wanted. The day came when the cat returned home from work carrying what had to be their body’s weight in plastic bags, each one smelling of pure deliciousness, not a single restaurant logo repeated; as they explained, they had decided to “swing by a few places” to get Spikes’ favorite… all of their favorites.
While Tim prepared for that night’s feast, dragging a table into their living room and setting up the plates in as aesthetically pleasing a pattern as he could, Spikes got ready by doing the only thing he could: picking up his Digivice, removing every safety on it, then promptly chucking it in the nearest bin and forgetting it ever existed. This way, his body could stretch and bloat to far past the point where it normally could, something that wasn’t supposed to happen, but just happened to be one of the perks of having his controller hardware turned into a barely functional piece of scrap thanks to multiple existential resets. He walked back into the living room, stark naked and licking his lips, finding his feast waiting for him, and Tim nowhere to be found; the cat had left a note on the table, informing him that they’d be “Back Soon” and he should get started on eating as quickly as he could, lest the food get cold; the Rena didn’t need to be told twice, and the note was barely halfway to the ground when he had one hand dipping into a packet of chips and the other one grabbing three or four chicken wings out of a cardboard bucket.
There was something magical about letting go of limits and sanity and just indulging in one’s innermost desires. The two of them usually did it in the more conventional way, be it with quantities of spunk that drowned out entire planets or the sort of growth that violated fundamental laws of physics; whatever their preferred method, it was always something sexual in nature, so it was nice to have a different thing for a change… assuming it was different. Spikes couldn’t help but wonder if that interminable hunger and desire to eat wasn’t but a different facet of the same kind of want that told him to grow bigger than entire galaxies, or begged of his feline partner to fill him so much he became a planet-sized cum balloon, or even the few occasions where his biceps alone could obscure the observable universe. It was still a desire, and a mindless one at that, so much so that before he knew it, Spikes had already developed a healthy gut after scarfing his way through several pounds of delicious food.
He couldn’t stop himself; or, to be more accurate, wouldn’t do so. To stop would be to deny himself, to tell his body and mind that they couldn’t have what they craved, despite there being no reason to do so; why should he hold back when he and Tim could just put everything back together even in the worst of cases? Spikes knew that his partner was a lot more reticent about the godlike business than he was, but he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care about the implications; as deities, the entirety of existence was their oyster, and as undisputed rulers of reality, there was nothing they couldn’t do. And if they somehow slipped and ended up destroying the underlying fabric of the cosmos, they could just remake it from memory and no one would be the wiser; why, then, should he have to worry his pretty little head about such things as morality or restraint, when he could just shovel food into his gullet and both watch and feel as his body grew rounder, fatter, heavier, dragging him down and down towards the ground as it became harder to stand up with each bite? It’d be a complete waste of time.
The collapse came quickly. A few minutes were all that was needed for his legs to give in and lose the fight against the weight mounting above them, his knees bending forwards and the floorboards cracking radially once he impacted the ground; it didn’t hurt, nor did it even register at all, given that his mind was far too focused on consuming the feast laid out for him to process anything else. Tim’s absence wasn’t even noted anymore, having been pushed to the backburner processing section of his brain, the same one where everything else that wasn’t eating had been moved to, at least until the food ran out; still, with so much of it still there in front of him, from roasts to fried everything to every sort of deliciously unhealthy junk food he could think of, the odds of him running out before the feline showed up again were slim to none. And who knew, perhaps Tim had gone on another food run, just to keep their partner going for as long as possible!
With this certainty in mind, Spikes focused entirely on stuffing his face as hard as he could. He didn’t even notice how the food seemed to multiply the longer he kept eating it, how the pile of plastic plates and cardboard boxes only became more precariously stacked as he devoured his way through it; were he still in possession of his mental faculties, he would’ve accurately deduced that this was the work of the lynx, messing with the fabric of reality yet again in order to fulfill their partner’s deepest desires, and would’ve been that much more grateful for it. Sadly, he was too far gone to be even remotely capable of thinking along those lines... not that he was unable to express gratitude; certainly, if Tim were there, the Rena would be spending at least a good ten percent of his time showering them with thanks for arranging such a bountiful feast for their hubby.
Spikes was so focused on eating, in fact, that he completely missed the fact that what he was doing had tangible, physical consequences on the world around him, directly related to the sort of damage he was doing to his own body. A good ten minutes had passed, and yet somehow he was already a towering blob of pudge and fat, taller than the tables he was eating from despite being sat down; that rotund rear of his had become larger than the couple’s couch, probably bigger than their bed as well, with the rest of him being just as, if not proportionately fatter, going up from a pair of unbelievably enormous thighs to a belly that slung out several feet in front of him, all the way to a neck that threatened to engulf his head if he wasn’t careful. Grabbing food had become difficult, borderline impossible with some of the stuff on the other side of the table, but he somehow managed… though not without some trade-off. The floor beneath him wasn’t built on solid ground, but rather was a thick layer of wood, followed by another of concrete in between their living room and a spacious basement-slash-game room underneath. The two had never had issues with structural stability before, but then again, neither of them had ever pigged out so hard that their bodies’ natural weight alone would be enough to flatten steel; thus, the longer Spikes kept eating, the more the radial cracks caused by his initial collapse continued to grow, widening and stretching out in every direction until they became visible to the naked eye, coming out from underneath that mountainous, flabby Rena. Spikes, of course, wasn’t aware of this, nor was he truly cognizant of the sounds the floor was making: the wooden creaking, the crumbling beneath it, the noise of solid objects hitting the basement floor beneath as the concrete layer began to crack as well.
Soon after, the very room itself would begin to shake slightly, what with the floor starting to sink in the middle of it; wouldn’t be all that surprising if it ended up dragging a significant chunk of the house along with it, but again, Spikes wasn’t concerned. As long as he could keep grabbing fried foodstuffs, or roasts, or chips, or the endless parade of sodas and fattening drinks that just seemed to appear from nowhere, he was happy; as long as he could have something in his mouth to chew on and swallow, or a drink to guzzle down, he was happy. As long as he could feel the pounds mounting each time he ate a mouthful of anything, he was happy… and so he continued being happy, all the way to the point where his head was halfway to the ceiling, his ass covered most of the living room on its own, and somehow the table had climbed up his belly in order for him to have easier access to its contents; a good thing too, considering the Rena’s upper body now took up pretty much every part of the living space that his ass didn’t, leaving him feeling almost uncomfortably cramped… hence why Spikes decided the best thing he could do would be to slightly readjust his seating position in order to find a new, more appropriate one, that wouldn’t leave him feeling like his body was collapsing in on itself.
This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. As long as he had remained relatively stationary, the floor could hold on; it wasn’t the best of arrangements, and it would break down eventually anyway, but by doing nothing the Renamon could avoid disaster for as long as possible. Attempting to shift his frame from one position to another though? A single inch was all that was required for the house of cards to come crashing down, leaving him without any sort of support beneath his rotund rear, and his whole body was suddenly in freefall… for about a second or so, after which he plopped right on top of the game room’s ping pong table with a loud crash. He had become so large that his many fat rolls effectively didn’t even react to suddenly going down a whole story, apart from the immense jiggling shockwaves that didn’t seem to want to stop after getting started. In fact, the worst part about all of it was that the table with food had somehow vanished along with the ground floor, leaving Spikes to panic at the prospect that he might not have something to eat.
That’s when he heard it: the sound of tires outside the house, signalling that someone was approaching. It had to be Tim, and when they showed up, they’d be able to see the predicament their partner was in, maybe even get to work feeding him themselves! But there was no sight of the lynx, no teasing comment about how big the Rena was, not even a whiff of their scent; instead, what Spikes heard was a switch being flipped and an engine revving up, followed by the loud clanking of machinery. He had heard it before, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it… at least not until he saw what was coming down from above: a tube. From the hole that he had left in the living room was descending a large, metallic, segmented tube that vibrated and whirred at about the same rhythm as the sounds coming from above, and the closer it got to him, the more he noticed it was actually plugged on his side. Reaching out with his pudgy arms, Spikes saw what was written on the side of it:
“REMOVE CAP, APPLY TO MOUTH - TIM <3”
Next to the message was a simple mechanical lock holding the tube’s cap in place; behind it, small bits of what looked to be nutrient paste were dripping out, and seeing as how the Rena couldn’t even begin to squeeze down on the thing, it was clearly stuffed to the nines with feedstock, prepared just for him. Only then did he put two and two together: the pipe, the whirring, the engine… Tim had gone out to grab a vacuum pump just so they could feed him on a literally industrial scale. The whole feast they had arranged beforehand? Nothing but an entrée, an appetizer for the true meal that had yet to be served. Spikes licked his lips, placing the tube next to his mouth and getting ready to shove it in the moment he got the cap off.
The real feast was about to begin. |
It’s Just a Choker “Hey Lacy,” Dillian said quietly.
Lacy looked up at him. “What?”
“Why do you always wear that choker?” He pointed at the black, inch thick ribbon that wrapped around her slender neck.
“Why do you care?” She asked, returning her attention to her magazine.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, just I’ve never seen you without it. You don’t even take it off in the shower.”
“I just like it, okay?” She snapped.
“Enough to keep it on when you go swimming?” He asked, pressing her.
“Can we drop this?” Lacy said sharply, rolling her eyes.
Dillian looked at her and shook his head slightly. “Um, I guess, but I just don’t understand why this is upsetting you.”
“Ugh. If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me anyway. So, drop it.” She said crossly.
“Fine.” His shoulders sagged a bit for a moment then he reached over and pulled the clasp, letting the choker fall free. A laugh died in his throat as he saw his girlfriend’s head rolling on the bed, separated from her shoulders. “Fuck, Dillian, I told you to leave it alone.” She yelled at him from her disembodied head.
He pointed and screamed. “Your head!”
“Shut up, stupid, before you wake people. And give me that!” Her body grabbed at the chocker, pulling it from his slack fingers.
“Geez, I swear, my head rolls off one time and you lose your shit. How on earth are you going to survive dating me.” She said as she picked her head back up and set it back atop her shoulders, carefully reattaching the choker around it.
“Wha…?” Dillian was still in a state of shock, having seen his girlfriend’s head roll across the bed, severed completely from her body.
“Okay, ground rules for the boyfriend time. One, no removing my choker unless I give you permission, and you won’t get permission if you pull another stunt like that. Two, you don’t tell anyone about what you just saw. And three? When I say to leave something alone, you leave it the fuck alone. Have we got it?” She stared at him, arms cross and her small frame seething with anger.
“Uh,” He nodded dumbly.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m a Dullahan, duh. Our heads detach. No, it doesn’t hurt. I’m sure you’ve got a bunch of other dumb questions too, but basically, I don’t like it. It kind of sucks, really; and I really didn’t appreciate finding out I’m the quarter Dullahan that gets the curse, okay? It’s just annoying.”
He was finally coming out of his shocked state now, his head bobbing in agreement.
“Are we done with this now?” She asked, picking up her magazine, and gave him a glowering look. “Um, does that mean you can eat your own pussy?” He asked, not taking the hint.
Lacy rolled her eyes heavenward. “Yes, I can, and no, I won’t.” She hit him with the magazine. |
Tryn had always been the more enthusiastic out of the two, but Spikes could never have imagined just how much energy the Lucario would start putting into their workouts, even after the two of them were given undeniable evidence that it was the way forward when it came to giving the massive Luca the kind of body they’d dreamed of for years. The resting day was nothing if not pure torture for the both of them, though from entirely different directions: for Tryn, having to wait for a whole day before being able to grow yet again was absolutely agony; having been shown, and having experienced what it was like to become a burgeoning sculpture of raw muscle power, needing to wait nearly forty-eight hours before he could go through it again was something he wasn’t sure he could handle without a lot of help from Spikes… which made the Rena’s day one hell of a ride, considering he was used as a stress relief toy for a very lustful and snug-happy Lucario who wanted nothing more than to experience their new body in as thorough a way as they could.
To say that Tryn was frisky would be an understatement as massive as Tryn himself, and the two’s couch didn’t last for more than half an afternoon before the first spring gave up the ghost, followed by the rest of its companions. Of course, by that point, it didn’t really matter, considering the Luca was big enough to be the couch if he so desired, and he made sure that Spikes was well aware of that by physically picking them up and keeping them as nice and tight against his massive, ripped chest as possible.
Neither of the two were particularly concerned with the implications of this, neither were they thinking about how things would be like after their second workout day was upon them, and, now that they knew how it worked, the Lucario would very obviously stretch his body to the absolute limit, consuming goodness knows how many candies for the sole purpose of making himself as big as he could possibly be. Not a thought was spared to the reality that would be their new life together, the challenges they would face, the logistical complications that came with Tryn becoming as gigantic as he wanted to be, nor any of the very real practical concerns that came with it; no, as far as Spikes and Tryn were concerned, the only thing that truly mattered was taking the Lucario’s physique and turning it up to eleven and beyond, transforming this already-extant perfection into something even better, that the two of them might experience carnal bliss as part of their everyday lives.
They hadn’t actually gotten to… that point yet, but given the sort of thoughts and words that flowed freely between the two, as well as the extreme physical proximity they had suddenly developed, it was only a matter of time; all that Spikes could hope for was that, when it came down to it, he’d be able to walk straight the morning after, though he had serious doubts that would be possible given the sheer size disparity between the two.
A disparity that, as far as Tryn was concerned, was only going to get worse, at least if he had anything to say about it. The Rena he shared a home with might know that he planned on abusing the power of the candies to the absolute maximum, but what they didn’t know what that he had been carefully planning out how best to do so in all those hours they spent cuddling together: perfect doses, how best to take them, when to eat the candies, all sorts of details that, while he was convinced were ultimately pointless because of so many unknown variables, were nonetheless vital for the sake of keeping him from being surprised again. Tryn figured that the only reason he wasn’t already so much more massive was purely because of his own hesitation in taking the boosters in the first place, thanks to the shock his growth triggered in him; thus, if he formulated enough backup plans that he could reliably find one for whatever situation might pop up, he’d be ready to exploit whatever might come and thoroughly maximize his gains the next time he was allowed to bulk up again. Just the thought of it was enough to get his cheeks burning and his legs quivering, to say nothing of a few other things… but those were thoughts for later, for after he had become the hulking giant of his dreams.
The third day dawned with the two of them in one another’s arms in the middle of the living room floor, having decided that one of the year’s first truly non-freezing nights was a good enough reason to eschew the use of a bed and rely entirely on the Lucario for comfort and warmth, both of which he generously and eagerly provided in ample quantities. Even better, Tryn felt just as refreshed and ready to take on the day as he would have had he chosen a mattress, perhaps even better still considering he had all the space he could want rather than needing to circumscribe himself to a tiny little spot above ground; in contrast, Spikes was so completely far gone after what had been one of the best nights of his entire life that he practically didn’t need things to go sexual for him to experience true bliss.
Sleeping on Tryn was indescribable, the perfect mixture of the most comfortable bed in existence with the sort of warmth and loving acceptance that only a true mate could provide, leaving the Rena both physically restored and utterly mentally demolished; it took the Luca himself plucking Spikes from their immense chest and placing him on the ground before the Renamon came back to his senses, and even then he still tried to crawl as close to Tryn as possible just to keep it going for “five more minutes”. Alas, and as Tryn himself readily told his mate, they didn’t have five more minutes; the workout regimen required them to start working out in the morning with only a small break for a light lunch, after which they had a whole afternoon ahead of them!
The sheer enthusiasm was enough to put some spring into Spikes’ step, though he was clearly too groggy for proper exercise just yet; still, a good protein shake and a smooch later and he was rearing to go, if only because Tryn also made sure to whisper a few sweet nothings into their ear and remind them of what sort of reward was waiting at the end of the day if they were a good boy and gave him lots and lots of candies for him to devour. He spared no details, going in-depth on his plans, the very act of his planning, and his intention: to become so massive that he wouldn’t even be able to fit in their house, to turn into such an absolutely enormous hunk of beef that no building on the planet would be able to hold him properly unless they had vastly elevated ceilings, so utterly dense with muscle mass that the ground itself would tremble and quake with each step he took. And there, at the center of it all, was Spikes, the root cause of it… and the primacy beneficiary of all that hunky Lucario whenever the two of them felt even remotely frisky; honestly, how could the Rena possibly say no to that?
So they got to work. Just as planned, the two of them spent most of the morning running laps around the house, coincidentally giving the neighbors something to think about thanks to Tryn not having any clothes that fit him, before heading back in just after noon for something to eat, after which they immediately went down to their gym, taking care not to get the Lucario to smash into anything on the way there. Already Tryn’s body was starting to show signs of improvement, their bulk noticeably larger and with far more pronounced veins, while he still hadn’t consumed any candies at all; alarmingly, the Luca didn’t mention the treats at all, though given the way he eyed the bag when it was retrieved from the locker it was kept, Spikes doubted this would remain the case for long… and yet, the larger of the two somehow managed to keep quiet about it for most of the afternoon, preferring to focus on what he was supposed to do, if only to keep things going according to plan and prevent any surprises.
Tryn had chosen not to push his luck (yet), and only to eat the boosters after they were done with the workout, but unlike the previous time, he was going to take a whole mouthful of those things at once… and given the size of his gullet, that was bound to turn him into something resembling a walking, talking pile of muscle mass: exactly the way he wanted it. Hours passed, and both Rena and Luca ran dangerously close to completely spending what stamina they might have inside of them; Spikes had done an admirable job in keeping up, given the sheer difference in size, strength and resistance between the two, though granted, Tryn had gone far above and beyond what was technically required of him, just so he could reap as many fruits from his labour as possible. It was impressive how much his body reacted even without the candies, and if it weren’t for the fact that he knew he could be so much more, the Lucario might just have been content with the gains he already made for the day: he was obviously a good foot taller, about three feet wider, and he couldn’t even move his arms around without them rubbing against his pecs somehow, something that he never imagined would happen to him. Nevertheless, he planned for the candies, so he was going to take them, even if he knew he’d end up so utterly gigantic that he’d probably break through the ceiling and into the ground floor of their house.
This didn’t stop him. As soon as the clock they set up rang, signalling that their workout had come to an end, Spikes dropped to the floor like a marionette having their strings cut, not even bothering to cushion his fall as he flopped onto his side, struggling to breathe, yet still with the goofiest grin on his face; part of it was thanks to the endorphin rush that came from working out in the first place, but most of it was the underlying knowledge that he was about to watch Tryn become even beefier than before, a thought that was already making his body confused as to where it should direct its much-needed blood.
Predictably, the Lucario didn’t waste any time, knowing as he did that every second spent not consuming the rare candies was a second that they lost their effectiveness, and if it weren’t for the bag being out in the open, he would have just punched through the metal locker to retrieve it; instead, he shoved his hand into it, grabbed as much of the delicious snacks as he could, and without hesitation, shovelled all of them into his maw, nearly choking as he chomped down on their gooey, creamy insides. He struggled to swallow them all, his eyes tearing up as he tried to do so, but just as he knew that he had to, so too did his body obey: those things were necessary for him to become even more perfect, so they had to go down whether his body liked it or not. The last thing Spikes saw before the transformation was that lump going down Tryn’s throat, before disappearing somewhere underneath his collarbone… and then everything started to rumble.
Not just the ground, but the air itself seemed to be vibrating, as if trembling in anticipation of the Lucario’s newest growth spurt; the giant himself had already closed his eyes, balled up his fists and clenched every muscle he had, helping along with the bulking up by giving his body the perfect avenue through which to manifest it: with every muscle group tightened, every second spent keeping his body at maximum tension, Tryn seemed to add inch after inch to his form, expanding at a much more controlled rate than before. If his first candy had made him uncontrollably bulge outwards, these ones looked as if they’d hooked him to a pump and left it on; it was steady, consistent, and most of all, it seemingly refused to stop, making the Rena wonder if he shouldn’t be crawling backwards to avoid being smothered by a growing, budding titan mere inches away from him.
For Tryn, this couldn’t have gone better; all he could do was keep clenching, keep holding his body in that tightened state, and hope that it would keep going forever. He could feel as he expanded outwards, taking up more and more volume with tightly-packed muscle mass, his weight increasing to such a degree that the ground itself started to crack underneath the strain; the sound of groaning filled the air as his increasingly-leathery skin was forced to stretch in order to accommodate for a frankly absurd amount of surface area, practically creaking as it was pushed to the breaking point. His legs, as well, were thickening at a much faster pace, for they were cursed with having to hold up a ridiculous amount of Lucario hunk, far more than they should ever have to.
And this kept repeating itself, again and again, multiplying the process until all that was left was Tryn’s head, almost buried underneath his own neck bulk, surrounded on all sides by a veritable halo of mass, his body something truly gigantic; in the end, it hadn’t been his skull that bumped against the ceiling, but his back muscles, which had nearly grown over the poor Lucario’s head, leaving him looking like he was wearing some sort of organic mech suit.
Which was, ultimately, exactly what both Tryn and Spikes wanted. When the transformation began to wear off and the Luca finally had some room to breathe, there was no difference between him clenching his whole body as tightly as possible and him relaxing; his bulk had become something so exaggerated, so utterly beyond the realm of the possible, that he might as well be limp and he’d still be able to stand up perfectly still, such was his mass and density. Hell, Spikes didn’t even know if the attraction he felt for that glorious hunk was psychological or if they truly had their own gravity well! One thing was certain though: as both the Renamon and Lucario looked aside, to the still-open bag of candies on the ground, they could both only think of the fact that this had just been their second workout day.
There was still so much more to come. |
Mommy's Little Dragon
Lyella lay softly in her bed, her baby snuggled up against hir, snoring softly. Well, Ramie wasn't hir baby technically. The little dragon scooted closer to his adoptive mother, wrapping the snake morph with his two pair of feathered wings. Lyella churred softly at the gentle caresses. Shi curled her tail around his purple scaled tummy.
Hir maleness throbbed, needing attention. Ramie had a sixth sense about his mommy's arousal, or at least it seemed that way to her. Of course he might, after all he was the reason shi was a herm after all. Big, beautiful green eyes opened, peering at her, a smile coming to his muzzle. "Good morning, Mommy." the dragon purred, hugging the snake with all six paws.
"Is my baby hungry?" Lyella cooed, though 'baby' was a relative term, as Ramie was as large as Lyella was and about twice as heavy. "Mmmhmmm" the dragon murred, shifting in the bed. Unlike most dragons he had a rather short neck and blunt snout, somewhat like a cat. He also had a mane of soft navy blue hair. Ramie was covered, aside from the underbelly, with short black fur. His wings had black feathers which faded through purple to become blue at the tips. His long horse-like ears also had the same coloration, save for the soft pink interiors. A pair of short white horns jutted from his temples.
Ramie flicked out his long, forked tongue, curling it around his mother's maleness and began to suck. Lyella knew hir baby loved to suck, since he nursed on just about everything. Shi thought back to what had lead to the discovery of hir lovely dragonlet and the changes to hir body that came with him.
Shi, then entirely female, had become separated from the remains of her unit after a battle. There was almost no one left. They had fled into the swamp, where the wolphen were reluctant to tread, saying something about evil spirits. The only evil Lyella had found were the wolphen males. The better equipped and trained wolphen had slain all the males in her unit, and all those females they couldn't subdue.
She had been held down by two of the female wolphen as the biggest male ripped her armor off with his powerful claws and mated her violently. Bleeding and terrified, Lyella had managed to make a break for it, slipping into the waters of the swamp. The wolves pursued her, howling with glee at the hunt.
The little dragon had saved her life. A strange cry had rung out and the wolphen had become panicky; they suddenly looked afraid. They then turned and began to flee. Lyella had swum towards the noise, more afraid of the wolphen then anything the swamp could put against her. Anything in the swamp would just eat her.
Instead of a fearsome beast she'd found a the little dragon inside a small cave, not much larger then a newborn kitten. The dragonlet had been late born, Lyella had found it's two siblings dead just outside the nest. The little creature had trotted towards her, raising up onto it's back legs, waving four paws in the air, peering up at her longingly.
It had jumped on her, and began to lick her wounds. To Lyella's surprise they began to heal. Her cuts, scrapes, and claw-inflicted gashes faded quickly under the little dragon's tongue. Then it began to lick her where it hurt the most, where the alpha had violated her. The pain ceased, and was slowly replaced with a nice feeling.
Despite the pain having faded, the little dragon continued to lick her, nibbling her clit gently. All Lyella could do was lay back and moan as the dragon continued to 'nurse' on her clitty, she was worn out from her flight from the wolphen. The feelings from the dragon's suckling began to grow and change, before Lyella knew it, she had a six inch cock protruding from hir legs, with the entire length buried in the dragon's throat.
Shi could barely gasp as shi came for the first time, sending hir seed into the dragonlet's awaiting tummy. The snake lay there panting, blue and black scales covered with sweat from hir first loving sexual experience. Then the tiny dragon began to slip his head into hir femsex. Still too tired to resist, Lyella just gasped softly, bucking hir hips as the dragon proceeded to crawl inside hir womb.
The kitten sized dragon made only a tiny swelling in Lyella's belly with his presence. Shi curled hir tail around herself, both paws holding hir tummy as shi slept peacefully, a soft tingling drifting all over hir body.
Shi awoke the next morning to find that hir tiny bumps of breasts had grown tremendously, heavy and filled with milk, and not only that, but shi had another pair of them as well. She felt well rested, not like shi'd been in a battle and spent an entire night fleeing for hir life.
Lyella had returned to hir village, getting hir dismissal from the military when shi appeared with a bulge in hir gut. Being the only survivor from hir unit, those who weren't dead were wolphen slaves, which was just as bad. Lyella had been granted some meaningless medals, and a modest monthly pension.
The money was more then enough for hir to take care of hirself, and hir little dragon. A few months after he crawled in, the little dragon wriggled back out, twice the size he'd been. The little dragon had saved hir life, shi would care for him in return.
The snake morph had named him, and raised him as best shi could. He was kind, gentle, and shy around strangers. But Ramie loved hir very much, and shi loved him as well. Even at his current size, and the age of three, the dragon still enjoyed suckling at his mother's breasts, their milk flow only increasing over time.
Other things had also increased over time. Hir member was huge, nearly eighteen inches long and three thick, but Ramie still took it into his mouth easily. He nursed on hir cock, relishing hir seed just as much, if not more then hir milk. He had become hir mate as well, filling hir with his own member from time to time, though he wasn't quite as big as his mommy.
He would even ask hir to mate his tailhole from time to time, though truth be told he seemed to enjoy it more then shi did. Lyella preferred the soft, smooth forked tongue curled around hir big lavender shaft.
Ramie slid his paws beneath hir, cupping hir buttocks and pulling hir cock deeper into his mouth. Lyella lay back, hir paws wrapped around his ears, stroking them as he sucked hir off. He was very good at this, and he could keep hir on the edge of climax for as long as he wanted, drawing out his mother's pleasure.
Sadly they could no longer partake in one of their favorite things. A year ago Ramie had finally grown too big to be able to slip inside Lyella's femsex, and into hir womb. Shi missed the delicious weight inside hir as shi slept. It felt strange to curl up to hir baby, and have him be the same size as hirself.
The dragon snuck a clawtip into his mother's pussy, teasing and stroking hir. Ramie slid an entire finger in, then two, and then his entire paw. The act caused Lyella to moan loudly, hir juices spilling out onto hir tail. He pulled his paw from hir gushing snatch, slipping one finger into hir cunt, and the other into hir tailhole, causing Lyella to howl. He knew shi couldn't take that for long.
And shi couldn't. Within a few seconds shi arched hir back, climaxing violently from hir dual sexes, a feast of juices for hir baby to lap up, which he did in quick order. Ramie picked hir up, laying his mother on his belly, wrapping her with his wings, hugging hir to his chest. "Oh goddess! That was incredible, Ramie!" Lyella gasped.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Mama." he cooed softly, hugging hir with all four forepaws as well. "I have a surprise for you, Mama." the dragon said with a smile. "A surprise? What kind of surprise?" Lyella asks.
"I'll show you." he purred, rolling hir onto the bed and sliding off, standing on his hind legs. "I've found out what these are for." he said quietly, indicating several patches of shiny scales on his belly, chest, and tail. There were also spots of them all over his front forelegs, his hips, and down above his sheath.
"Well what are they for?" Lyella asked, curious. "Roll onto your belly and face away from me." Ramie asked, his mother grinning and following his request amusedly. "Well, ok, but what are you going to do?" "Just watch!" Ramie says happily.
Lyella felt a sudden warmth on the tip of hir tail, and found Ramie's paws gripping hir body. The warm feeling began moving quickly up hir tail. She looked back to see Ramie pulling hir... into himself? He stood on his hind legs, lifting Lyella into the air, then letting hir go.
The snake morph suddenly found most of hir body inside hir dragon, everything below the neck inside of him, hir head poking out of his chest just above the breastbone. Shi could feel hir tail down inside his own, and hir legs bunched up inside his. "Now, slip your arms straight out to the sides." the dragon said, amused. Lyella did so, and found hir arms and paws inside Ramie's central legs.
"Do you like it, Mama?" the dragon asked, looking down at the blue and black reptile. "It feels nice and warm, like an all-over hug. "But I, uh... I can't move." Lyella wriggled, trying to get free, but to no avail. "You're not supposed to be able to." Ramie purred, laying down on the bed.
He placed his paws behind Lyella's head, tilting hir gaze downward. Shi gasped, able to see hir own scales through the wet looking patches of transparent scale. Ramie stroked his mother's light lavender hair gently. "Don't be scared, it's just like my being inside of you: soft, warm, wet, unable to do much more then wiggle."
Ramie rubbed a claw over the patch of scales where Lyella's breasts appeared, their size distorting the dragon's underbelly a bit. The snake shivered, as it was like shi could feel through the scales. "I... felt that. Like I was a part of you." Lyella says, astonished.
The dragon chuckled, the shaking jiggling Lyella around a little. "That's because you will be soon." he says, petting Lyella gently. The snake herm wriggled, trying to pull free, but found shi couldn't. "Let me go! C'mon, this is no time for jokes, this isn't funny!" shi howled.
He just nuzzled hir head gently with his snout. "It's a part of my life cycle, to take a female like this. We'll become one body, male and female. It's the only way to reproduce without a dragoness."
Ramie continued to nuzzle and pet hir. "It won't hurt, I'd never hurt, you, Mama. You fed me, took care of me, kept me warm and safe inside you. Now I'm going to do the same for you." The dragon licked hir softly.
"But I don't WANT to be a part of you!" shi pleaded, beginning to cry. "Ssssh, sssh, sssh. Don't be frightened, it's not going to hurt at all. It'll feel wonderful. Haven't you ever dreamed of being a big, strong dragon? Haven't you ever wanted to feel what it's truly like to fly, not just ride? Our belly is going to feel so wonderful filled with eggs. Won't it feel great to have tiny dragon suckling from you again, wriggling sweetly inside you? Hmm?" he cooed in hir ear, placing a paw on the patch of scales above hir crotch.
Lyella closed hir eyes. He was right. Shi did think it would be wonderful to have a belly full of hatchlings, having tiny dragons nursing from hir. "What, are you giving up, Mama? You still get to be with me, we still get to mate and play with each other. I'll always love you, Mama." he purrs.
The snake herm yelped as something warm and wet pressed against hir tailhole. "Sssh, this is the first part of our joining. Just let me in, Mama, it'll be ok. " he said, running his tongue over hir cheek. She gave a little bit of resistance out of instinct, but relaxed, letting the probing tentacle like part of Ramie inside.
Shi could feel a sweet tingling inside hir body, causing her to moan softly. "What's happening?" shi asked in curiosity. "I'm absorbing nearly all of your organs, you won't need them. I breath for you, I eat for you, my heart pumps enough blood for both of us. But you can still breathe, and you can still eat, you're just linked to me. The parts of your body that are no longer needed will vanish, used as fuel for our fusion."
Lyella shivered, Ramie was basically eating most of hir alive. Feeling hir anxiety he attempted to calm hir. "You'll be ok, you don't feel any pain, do you?" "No." Lyella admits. "Just relax, this is going to feel kind of tingly at first..."
Dragon and serpent gasped as their nervous systems linked. Lyella could feel Ramie's powerful body, his paws, his wings, his tail. The delicious full feeling of hir presence inside him. Hir own arms, legs and tail fusing with his own, adding their muscle mass to his own. The transparent patches of scales dissolving as hir own skin replaced them.
Shi could feel a strange feeling spread across places of hir... their body. "Wh-what is that?" shi asked, more curious then frightened now. "The last of our changes, one I'm sure you'll enjoy."
"What's thAAAAAAH!" shi gasps, feeling hirself filled with dragoncock. "Prehensile, large cock." Ramie said, smiling. "Mmmm, so that's what it feels like for a female." the dragon purred. Lyella could only gasp, feeling cock and cunt simultaneously. "Oh Ramie, this feels so... so... mmmm!"
"Yes, Mama, it feels wonderful." he said, bringing all four forepaws up to stroke their breasts. Ramie began to growl softly, Lyella could only gasp at the overwhelming sensations of their body. Dragon and serpent howled as they climaxed, Lyella's body filling with seed, femcum gushing from around the serpentine shaft, and even more seed spilling onto their belly from Lyella's cock.
"Can you feel it, Mama?" Ramie purred, petting hir softly. "The tiny dragon lives beginning to grow inside of us?" "I can!" exclaimed Lyella. "It feels soooo good. Thank you, Ramie!" The dragon's central legs wrapped around their body. "You're learning so fast, Mama, thank you for the hug." he purred, his tongue stroking Lyella's final change, a pair of short white horns jutting from hir temples. |
It was perhaps appropriate that it was a rainy day, leaving the both of them soaked before entering the building, Linda in particular feeling it harder to move thanks to all the water in her fur. The front desk clerk looked to be as somber as either of them were, solemnly informing them that, thanks “unfortunate complications”, Dr. Simmons was no longer in charge of the research project, having been replaced by someone who the Board of Directors felt would be more “amenable” to the long-term goals of the genetic experiment. This alone was enough to make their hearts sink, but at least the young man let them know that the rest of the team remained untouched… and not-so-subtly implied Simmons was still pulling strings with them in order for them to either outright ignore the new project lead or subvert their decisions for the sake of the new couple. This didn’t bode all that well, but things were already at their lowest; as long as they could continue to see one another, then at least they had that one thing.
What followed were hours of preparation and rigid protocol, whereby Linda was subjected to a great number of preliminary exams in order to ascertain what her new baseline was. Beth was not allowed within the testing facilities themselves, but was nonetheless permitted to sit in the observation room. For her, it was hard to tell whether or not this was a better idea than simply going away and forgetting about thing for a couple of weeks; seeing Linda that way, naked, surrounded on all sides by faceless techies garbed in full-body lab gear, being treated like some kind of doll with how little care they seemed to be employing in their measurements… it simultaneously enraged her and broke her heart; there she was, her life partner, her lover, her closest friend, helpless and unable to do anything about it, stuck in a room she couldn’t leave and with her eyes clearly trying to find hers through the one-way glass. The sudden appearance of the clerk at least alleviated things; he didn’t have much to offer beyond a few kind words and a packet of tissues, but he did let Beth know that Linda was used to those kinds of procedures… and that the worst was yet to come. His choice of words was clear: she had to be strong for Linda, or else both of them would come out of there far worse for the wear. Beth moved to thank the young man, but he was already gone, leaving her wondering if she had hallucinated his presence and simply forgot about bringing tissues from home. Still, things were… too much for her; she had to leave the observation room to catch some fresh air.
Once outside, it was simple enough to pace around right next to the door to the testing lab itself, wearing down the soles of her shoes as she made the rounds. Beth could hear a lot of things coming from the other side of that door, a whole lot of noises she was incredibly uncomfortable hearing that nonetheless only served to further reinforce the utter necessity of her being there in the first place. She was already drawing up plans to grab Linda and flee with her down the corridor and into the great beyond outdoors, even cooking up brand new names they could take and a cover story about her having a rare genetic disease, when the door next to her opened and revealed the panda gal, dressed in surgical scrubs and looking more annoyed than anything else. Beth resisted the urge to hug her for about half a second, then threw herself at her better half and showered her with questions: was she fine? Did they hurt her? When was she leaving? Did the tests come back negative? Was she going to be fuzzy forever?
Linda, for her part, just stood there and let Beth go through her panicked rambling before speaking up, giving her only two words: “Everything’s fine.” This wasn’t enough to calm her partner down, but it served to shut her up for long enough that the panda could explain where things were going and what her role was going to be going forward.
“They’re going to house me here and run a series of tests on my… capacity,” she spat out the last word, “it’s going to be uncomfortable, it’s going to be awkward, and I’m going to need you to be there with me. I don’t need you to panic, I can’t have you be scared, because I need someone to be strong for me, ok? I’m not going to keep my wits about me for long; in a week, two weeks, who knows, I’m going to be a wreck, and I’m going to need you to be strong for me, ok? Can you do that for me, Beth?”
Of course she could, what kind of question was that? Beth didn’t even bother dignifying that with a response, instead lunging forward again to place the two of them into a deep kiss, wrapping her arms around Linda’s back and letting her know in no uncertain terms that, whatever happened to them, she would be right there behind them, ready to provide as much support and backup as necessary. The rest of the medical staff seemed either unwilling or unable to stop the two from having their emotional moment, several of them even going so far as to take a few steps backwards just to give them more room. This was to be expected really; nearly all of them were familiar faces to Linda, who’d been with them since the very first medical trials started. These were people in whose hands she put her life into, people she trusted with that life, even if the circumstances surrounding it weren’t necessarily the best. While bound by rules and regulations and tons upon tons of protocol, even the coldest among them knew when to back off and let their “test subject” be treated like a normal person for even a few seconds; that their new project lead wasn’t around to witness it certainly played a part, seeing as the curmudgeonly old man seemed to resist the very notion of Linda being a sentient being to begin with, and not just a potential modifier to the company’s stock value.
Nonetheless, research had to be done and no one had any power to do anything about that, so both lovers had to part ways for the time being. One of the technicians, a younger woman by the name of Cynthia, escorted Beth to the main lobby and sat down next to her in an empty corner. Both of them knew what was going to happen, hence why the researcher made sure to take her labcoat off before accepting the hug; the amount of tears that flowed in the ensuing ten minutes were enough to leave a large, quite noticeable stain over her shoulder, with her quiet glare letting the front desk clerk know that, despite their intentions being the best, more people weren’t needed. Beth appreciated the gesture, even if she wasn’t in the best of positions to say how much; it seemed that after finally being separated from her partner, everything had just become… real. Like the whole situation just suddenly fell onto her lap and made its presence impossible to ignore, negating all the work they had gone through in the past several days. The two of them were separate, no longer together, split apart; and they’d just have to deal with that, because Rivtech certainly wasn’t going to help.
Cynthia reassured the young woman holding onto her that they would do their best to take care of Linda and keep her away from the more “ill-intentioned” elements within the company, while trying to maximize the amount of time the two could spend together; unlike the upper brass, they, as actual scientists, understood the need for psychological well-being even under conditions of such immense stress. Therefore, while they couldn’t allow the two of them to have any kind of direct physical contact whatsoever without orders from above, what they could do was ensure the couple would be able to speak to one another on different sides of observation windows, or have a bit of private time on opposite ends of a wall. It wasn’t the best of solutions, and it was doubtful whether or not it wouldn’t be best to do nothing at all, but it was a solution as opposed to nothing, one that Beth gladly accepted without a moment’s thought.
Unbeknownst to the both of them, Rivtech was already drawing up its own plans for what to do with Beth, or at least the Board of Directors was. Being fully aware of her relationship with Linda, they initially considered simply scaring her off from associating with their prized test subject, before Simmons informed them that the two were likely involved in a sexual relationship of some sort. No doubt the good doctor did so under the impression he could use that as a way of garnering a certain degree of solidarity for the both of them; sadly, it was merely used as an excuse to move him away from the project under the guise of having lost control of “outlying variables”, as they called it, allowing the Board to bring in someone who wouldn’t constantly try to pull the rug out from under them. There yet remained the question of Beth, on which the group of senior partners was fundamentally divided; should she be split away from the project altogether, or placed in there with Linda after being promised a hefty sum of funds? Was she even relevant to the research at all, or merely to be used as a convenient distraction, a way for the panda girl to remain nice and quiet while they ran their tests? And, if it was true that the two were intimately acquainted with one another, could the genetic modification be affecting her in some way?
The new project head, some sycophant they dug up from a long-forgotten R&D investment that went nowhere, insisted that the two remain separate, to “preserve the sanctity of experimental data.” He did actually have a point, but that was entirely incidental, as his main motivation being to cut down on what he perceived to be a lack of discipline and “proper” scientific conduct amongst his fellows. There was a reason Dr. Dorden was universally disliked, and it was for this precise reason that the Board chose to put him in charge: it was easy enough to subvert his authority when the whole team under his command was already doing it. Excluding him from the decision-making process was as easy as letting the whole staff know that Linda and Beth were to have mandatory conjugal visits at a predetermined time every other day, a move that earned the tentative, cautious respect of the junior researchers and quite nearly moved Dorden to shout his throat hoarse in protest, ultimately being quieted down once reminded of how easily he could be reassigned. This would be good news for Beth, if not for the reason why it was decided upon: unwilling surveillance.
The whole complex belonged to the company, making it supremely easy to just turn the cameras towards wherever they damn well wanted them to. Additionally, it being their property, they couldn’t exactly be blamed for monitoring every inch of it; if it just so happened that they caught their premiere test subject and her lover, as well as every single word in their conversation, it was easy enough to classify it as simple surveillance and move on without a care in the world. This way, not only could they gather valuable data, as one half of the Board wanted, but they could keep the two of them separate, just like the other half desired, while still mixing the bowl hard enough that they could throw the resulting concoction at the wall to see if it stuck. Wasn’t the best of science, but then again, they weren’t scientists; they were businessmen.
The multitude of tests run on Linda began on her second day after moving in. With the preliminary battery completed, the team wasted no time in moving onto the veritable shopping list of questions they had about… everything really, which left them more or less spoiled for choices and rather aimless over where they should go from there. For once, Dr. Dorden proved that he could actually be useful by putting his foot down and demanding his staff create a properly organized (if overly complex) branching tree with every hypothesis they had, right before ordering them to start with the obvious: breast milk.
Linda was quick to point out that she only filled up whenever she felt truly stressed, and now that she knew that Beth was both allowed to see and interact with her, the stay at the facility wasn’t nearly as existentially draining to her as she initially assumed it would be. In fact, to some degree, she quite enjoyed finally getting some work done towards fixing her condition, even if it meant further disruptions in her life; at least now she had someone waiting on the outside, someone who could stand with her and be that pillar of emotional support she needed. This posed a significant issue to the good doctor, who was completely stumped as to how exactly they were supposed to make her exhibit her anomalous properties without some kind of outside stimulus to create enough stress. He suggested withholding access to Beth, an empty threat if there ever was one, needing one of his junior researchers to suggest simply manufacturing the reaction by way of stress-inducing chemicals… assuming Linda agreed with it, of course. This received unanimous support from everyone excluding Dorden himself, who insisted that such a method would “sully” the results, though he was suspiciously quiet on how exactly that made any sense if the stress was indistinguishable from that derived from natural causes.
Arguments ensued, voices were raised, and the new project head was just about to be undermined again when, inadvertently, they realized they created the best possible scenario for Linda’s milkiness to flourish once again. The panda girl had already been complaining about the noise and bickering for a while at that point, not to mention being consistently ignored; together with the obvious tension in the air when shouting commenced, the arguing broke through her flimsy barrier of comfort and began digging at her existential dread once again. Once the growth started, once she felt the familiar warmth creep up on her and push against her surgical scrubs…
… then it was all over. |
It probably wasn’t a good idea to take so many of those things at once, especially seeing as his partner had already popped plenty of enhancers to begin with, but the two of them had spent a pretty penny getting those damned pills in the first place, so they were going to enjoy them to the best of their ability… even if this meant blowing their loads all at once in one explosive night of expansive pleasure.
The hyena in particular was practically buzzing with excitement at the prospect of finally living out their inflation fantasies for the first time in his life, while the wolf beside him could barely contain their near-childish glee at being able to, at long last, turn that wonderful little yeen into an overfilled cum blimp all on their own. Sure, it took several months of savings and the two of them sacrificing an entire vacation they had planned just so they could buy the supplements while they were still in stock, but given how much the both of them desperately wanted to go through that experience at least once in their lives, they were willing to go through with it even with how much they had to throw away to do so. After all, it wasn’t every day that they could fill up a significant amount of space in their bedroom with a single (massive) load of cum without having to worry about health concerns, so why not try it out? Why not indulge, for once?
The pills themselves were extremely simple in what they were supposed to do, even if their production process was complex enough to drive up prices substantially: the ones that the wolf took were meant to improve their cum production so that they could effectively become bottomless for the duration of a single sexual encounter, while the ones the hyena was taking like they were pieces of candy were designed to improve… stretchiness, for lack of a better word. The point was, they were supposed to let them live out a cumflation fantasy scenario, and for the low, low price of a few salaries, they had access to a whole box of them, which was supposed to be dosed out sparingly and over the course of several different nights, as opposed to just gobbled up all at once for one massive, magnified effect. It was entirely safe, just a seriously bad use of their money all things considered.
Neither of them cared though; Bio in particular was restless as could be after his pills began to take hold of his body, triggering the increased productivity far sooner than they normally would and prompting him to run to the kitchen to get some water in order to stave off dehydration. By the time he came back, just barely thirty seconds later, the wolf’s package was already engorged far beyond its regular turgid size, so much so that the poor thing was panting, his breath clearly labored, and his steps had turned into a waddling motion as he tried to walk while carrying around two quickly-filling watermelons between his legs, and a shaft that reached halfway up his torso and kept creeping up more and more the longer he went without sticking it somewhere where it could stretch someone out. Their eyes were unfocused, their hands weak as they dropped the water bottle on the ground and had to keep one palm on the wall beside them just to keep their balance, all while the other clutched their chest. Zrout was about to ask him if everything was alright, if the pills had somehow done something they weren’t supposed to… at which point the wolf let out a long, unbelievably whorish moan-turned-howl as his nuts bloated to over twice their size in but an instant, large enough to go below his knees, and his cock similarly swelled upwards until its tip was dangerously close to the bottom of his chin.
The size was… daunting, even if the hyena knew that his own body was supposed to be able to take it after the supplements worked on its elasticity. At the very least, it looked like that final size burst was the last one the two of them would have to worry about, at least for the cock; though that immense shaft was nice and glazed over by the amount of pre flowing down its sides, this wasn’t enough to deal with the colossal spike to productivity going on inside of Bio’s cum factories, which just kept on swelling the longer the wolf went without properly venting some of the pressure. Didn’t take long for them to hop onto the bed and pin the tinier Zrout underneath him, spreading the hyena’s arms and legs out as he struggled to try and aim his tip towards the hyena’s tailhole, finding very little clearance in which to do so. With a little bit of acrobatics and some stretching of his own, however, Bio somehow managed to press the tip of his colossal pillar of cockmeat against his mate’s rear end, and from there, it was impossible for him to really control himself.
The sheer pressure he felt in his nuts ensured that Bio took that opportunity and ran with it as hard as he possibly could, immediately ramming himself into the tinier hyena without even thinking if it was possible, or indeed if it was safe for the poor thing underneath him. Sure, they’d taken some pills to help, but neither of them knew if they were already acting on their body or not, or even if they would do anything at all; then again, when one had a cock that was as long as one’s torso and a set of cum factories so overproductive that their gurgling and churning were already louder than their owner’s constant whining and begging for them to get even bigger, it was hard to make rational decisions.
Thankfully, the supplements Zrout took worked beautifully to keep his body from falling apart once he had that colossal rod jammed into him; Bio hilted himself fully into the hyena, and yet despite completely rearranging their internal organs, what the two of them saw instead was a cock-shaped bulge being pushed up against the yeen’s belly, clearly defined against their stretched skin and looking exactly like those videos they’d constantly share with one another and fantasize about. It was everything they’d ever dreamed of, everything they ever wanted, and now that it was actually happening right there in front of them, it was time for the second stage in their kink play for the evening.
It wasn’t enough that the hyena was being used like a condom and even stretched out like one as well. It wasn’t enough that the burly wolf on top of them had begun to move his hips with uncharacteristic strength, pistoning into their smaller partner and making short work of their body with how much that cock kept shoving itself into it and nearly impaling poor Zrout from end to end. No, the two of them wanted more, needed more, and seeing as the yeen was screaming at the top of his lungs for his mate to go harder and faster despite the obvious damage being done to him, there wouldn’t be a lot of time before the floodgates began to open and the real show began, the real reason why the two of them spent so much money on those pills to begin with: stuffing Zrout to the brim and beyond with so much cum that their bedroom would end up flooded.
They could do it now! Given just how utterly massive Bio’s nuts had become in such a short period of time, the only thing stopping them from making that dream a reality was how much work they put into making the wolf fly off the edge… which, given how close he was to it already, didn’t really take too long at all, though it was doubtful whether or not that deluge pouring into the yeen was proper spunk or just the canine’s version of pre; seeing as he was still pounding away like a man desperate for release however, it was perhaps safe to say that it was the latter, just magnified so much by the supplements he took that it put most actual orgasms to shame, enough that the yeen was starting to see their belly bloating outwards already just from the initial loads alone!
It was even faster than he had imagined it in his head, even better than he could have possibly expected. To be able to look down and not only see his entire form be wrapped around a cock that was much too big to be inside of him, but also bloated to the point where he looked to be gravid with a whole litter, was nothing short of heavenly; even better considering it just kept getting bigger with each bucking of the wolf’s hips, which came accompanied by yet more loads of pre being dumped into the hyena, even more mass pumping him up to greater and greater sizes. The best thing about it though, was the simple fact that the wolf’s size was so massive compared to tiny yeen on the receiving end of it, that it created a near-perfect seal, preventing even a single drop from pouring out and keeping all of that deliciously filling pre stored safely within Zrout’s stretchy body. It shouldn’t be possible for him to swell up that hard, but that’s what the pills were for; the magic of medical science!
The yeen was eyeing his partner’s knot each time they managed to wrench himself from the very edge of a lust-induced stupor, trying to see if it had popped out already and whether or not it had undergone a similarly disproportionate size boost in comparison to the cock it was adorning. Unfortunately for him, his own body got in the way long before he managed to see just how girthy it could get, though given what little scraps he managed to glimpse of it, he could only assume that he was going to need every last one of those stretching pills he took in order to have that monstrous knot slam into him and not end up causing lasting damage… to say nothing of how much cum was going to end up pressure-hosed into him, if his belly was already about as large as the rest of him put together and his mate hadn’t even climaxed properly.
The sloshing too was starting to get to the both of them, caused not just by the two hyperactive cum factories behind Bio, but also thanks to the sheer amount of fluids roiling around inside of the yeen’s body, constantly stirred by the cock responsible for them being there in the first place and made to churn about like some sort of organic maelstrom. In any other case, it might’ve been a worrying set of sounds, but for them? For those two lovers stuck inside of a room after overdosing on experimental medication? It was music to their ears, it was exactly what they had been wanting to hear for years at that point, and it only served to motivate them further, even if it should have been a warning to turn back around and not push their luck any longer; there was only one way to go from there, and it involved Bio continuing to pound into Zrout and completely ignoring every sign his body was giving him that he was about to burst.
Because, contrary to what one might expect, gushing with so much precum that he turned his mate into a living water balloon (or cum balloon, as the case may be) didn’t really leave him any smaller or emptier; it didn’t even work to keep him stable at all, with the chemical storm triggered by him taking all of those pills having left his nuts in such a state of uncontrollable productivity that the only thing the wolf could do was keep on pistoning into the yeen and hope for the best, hope that his body would know what to do, because he certainly didn’t. All he knew was that if he looked back, his balls were very clearly reaching the end of their bed and threatening to start spilling over from the side, so full and stuffed that they ached for released; the pain was there, and yet it failed to register properly within Bio’s brain, his nerve endings shot as his mind was overwhelmed by the raw pleasure he was receiving from finally turning his kink dream into a reality. At that point, he didn’t even care that he felt like he was about to explode; he could die a happy man knowing that he had finally turned his beloved Zrout into a life-sized cum blimp, with the yeen so out of it that they couldn’t even blink their eyes properly, their mouth gaping with their tongue lolling out and flopping almost comically.
This state of affairs couldn’t carry on for much longer though. While Bio was possessed of ample stamina, even he couldn’t fight back against a set of nuts that were making the whole bed groan loudly thanks to their weight, the sounds of cum currents smashing into one another filling his ears even as he tried his best to ignore it and focus his attention on the hyena beneath him… which might have been a bad idea, given that the yeen’s body had effectively been turned into an enormous repository of the wolf’s spunk with a torso and legs attached to it somewhere beneath all of that wobbling liquid mass. Such a sight took hold of his control panel and firmly slammed every single button he had on there, with Bio utterly unable to hold himself back anymore; barely five minutes had passed since the two of them had taken the pills, and yet his knot was already popped, he had already slammed it into the yeen, and finally, at long last, the aching pressure in his nuts had begun to dissipate.
On account of it all being transferred, of course.
It seemed that with each clench of those colossal orbs, Zrout’s belly bloated a foot in every direction, that for every time the wolf’s cumtanks gurgled or slorshed more loudly than usual, the yeen’s belly responded in kind, turning their room into an echo chamber of impossibly loud rumbling that just seemed to magnify itself as the shockwaves criss-crossed in midair and on their bodies. All Bio could see was the yeen’s cumgut, swelling in all directions, taking up so much room in their room that, after a short while, even he couldn’t hold it back any longer; the last thing the wolf saw before darkness engulfed him was his mate’s belly, rapidly approaching the ceiling and walls, ready to spread its warm embrace to everything within range. Even while under there, Bio could feel it growing larger, tighter, more pressurized; he could even hear the walls groaning too, as they struggled to hold back against the tide.
But that was alright.
He still had plenty more to give. |
Mushlyn was dragging her partner’s hand behind her with such strength that Celia almost made a quip about her being ready to literally rip her arm off with sheer excitement. The bubblier of the couple just couldn’t help herself; after having discovered those hotsprings a few days earlier, the one thing in her mind was bringing her better half over to them so the two could enjoy some quality time together; and if one thing led to another and they ended up making good use of the warmth and bubbly water, then that’d just be a very welcome bonus. Celia, for her part, was perfectly happy to let her lover take the lead; it was always a great time whenever she got to see Mushlyn truly gush about something, especially when there was a non-zero chance they might be getting entangled in one another by the end of the day.
Once they made their way down a previously unexplored tunnel system, however, things changed; truth be told, Celia had expected something like a very tiny pool that just happened to be warm enough that her partner took the idea and ran it through her head a dozen times until it sounded far more amazing than it truly was. Instead, what she saw was truly a marvel, enough to leave her wondering just how exactly she had completely missed it in all those years living underground: there, at the very end of a series of tight openings and barely-visible crawlspaces, was a waterfall at least three times as tall as they both were, cascading into a large body of hot water, thick clouds of steam billowing from its surface. It was astonishing really, enough that Mushlyn got a good advance on jumping into the water, leaving her stunned companion to get splashed so much they had to come back to reality.
Already Celia could see where things were going, as her partner was doing very little to hide just how much she wanted the two of them to make good use of those springs. Both mushroom gals were feeling hot and bothered from the atmosphere alone, and assuming the water wasn’t too hot, it’d be a perfect opportunity to try out a few new things without having to worry about the mechanics of them; maybe they could even… perhaps. Regardless, Celia felt it best to hop into the pool as soon as she could, giving Mushlyn a wide smile as she dipped the tip of her foot into it; surprisingly, though quite warm, is was far less so than the plumes emanating from it would indicate, and apart from the slight shock of having her nuts and exposed shaft immersed in its heat, it was incredibly comfortable; so much so that Celia almost fell asleep the moment she allowed her head to tilt backwards onto the elevated floor behind her, brought back to the land of the living when Mushlyn immediately began straddling her groin.
There was no real satisfying that woman; try as she might, Celia constantly found herself with that hyper-demanding pink ball of hugs trying to get something out of her. To be fair to the both of them, Celia herself was more than happy to constantly indulge her better half when it came to her cravings, hence why it was perfectly normal that they were ready to go at it like rabid bunnies at just about any moment. Already the darker shroom elf could feel her blood pumping downwards, shaft thickening considerably as the smaller mushroom gal continued to work it with her petite rear, eager to see that log shoved between her cheeks and then firmly inside of her. The taller of the two gave her a wide, toothy grin, a cross between a hunter’s snarl and a lover’s smile, somehow managing to motivate Mushlyn even further. Celia had to give it to her, when it came to enthusiasm, no one had that woman beat, not even herself; what she did have was a trump card.
With a single finger, the bigger mush pushed her partner downwards, applying just enough strength on her forehead that the pink one knew just where to go. With such an ample supply of water all around them, it’d be a crime if Celia didn’t tap into one of her more special quirks: by sucking in the exact amount, she could force her body into overdrive, retrieving just the right amount of nutrients that she could start fattening up considerably… just not on her belly. Or anywhere conventional, really. No, the only thing that Mushlyn felt getting bigger the moment she was almost fully submerged was that cock she’d been eagerly teasing; and with both of her hands firmly wrapped around it, they had a front row seat to some of the biggest sizes Celia had ever reached. Its tip broke through the surface of the water, the dark skin stretched and covered in pulsating, throbbing veins, precum already bubbling from its tip and leaving the whole length covered in a slick sheen of the mushroom gal’s juices. The tinier of the couple was transfixed, her eyes firmly locked onto that shaft, tongue already lolling out of her mouth and ready to start licking on command… but not yet. Celia had more to go, and soon the cavern they were in was filled by the sounds of groaning and light creaking, as her cock continued to pack on mass from seemingly nowhere, the nuts underneath it similarly swelling up and promising ever-increasing amounts of delicious, thick protein once Mushlyn began her work in earnest.
All in all, a good waste of five minutes, after which the two of them could finally get started on what they were really there to do. The pink shroom wasted no time in going in for the kill, locking her lips firmly on the engorged shaft’s tip and pushing downwards, practically gagging with its girth and having to sputter a few times before they got it past the curve into her throat. It wasn’t just the size, but the output as well; despite barely being started, Celia was already producing more fluids than any other “true” male of their kind could ever hope to release with a full climax, one of the main reasons why the smaller woman had become so infatuated with her lover in the first place… and why they insisted on heading to the springs. Not that this deterred the thirsty shroom from giving it her best; if Mushlyn was good at something, it was keeping up her cheerful, upbeat demeanour even in the worst of circumstances, and this had a funny way of reflecting itself in just how into it she got whenever she had an opportunity to cut loose and enjoy herself. Despite the cock that the pink mush was servicing being now long enough to fill up her throat, bulge it out and poke into her stomach, she took it like it was the easiest thing in the world, practically impaling herself on that log with the widest, most manic grin stamped on her face. Celia’s own cheeks were starting to darken, her personal version of a blush, when she heard her lover begin to gulp down what she was being offered; the taller shroom could see her own cock bulging out whenever a particularly strong load of pre travelled down its length and spurted into Mushlyn’s stomach, and yet instead of begging to come up to breathe, that deranged woman kept on drinking like Celia’s dick was a water fountain and she was caught in the middle of a desert.
This had a curious effect on the both of them, something that had previously been an obstacle to them going full-out. If, on the one hand, Mushlyn was fully onboard the idea of sucking her partner off for every last drop, said partner was all-too aware that if she was pushed too hard, there was a reasonable chance that something drastic might happen, and Celia had her doubts on whether or not the other shroom elf could take it. They’d experimented with limits before, and Mushlyn was certainly nothing if not flexible, but now that they were alone, away from everyone and with no reason to really hold back… Celia began to wonder whether or not even agreeing to coming over there was a good idea in the first place; it was beginning to feel like a trap was laid out and she had stepped right into it.
Sadly, there was no turning back, not now that she had such an eager mouth wrapped around her cock and ready to keep going at it until her body gave in and lost the ability to function properly. With nothing to stand in their way and no real reason to hold back, Celia continued to absorb the water she was dipped in, finding it to be extremely mineral-rich and just the right quality to help along with her growth; and with a constant supply of it cascading down from above their heads, she needn’t fear about running out any time soon. The cave was filled with the sounds of something leathery stretching and groaning, while beneath the waterline, the elf felt her nuts begin to press against the sides of her legs, gurgling and rumbling as their production truly kicked into overdrive. The amount of pre bubbling down from the tip of her engorged shaft would have been impressive, if it wasn’t all being gobbled up by a very slurp-happy Mushlyn, whose stomach was already bloating out from how much she was taking in.
Blowjobs, however, were just not enough, not at that point. As much as Celia liked to pretend otherwise when around other people, it wasn’t the pink elf who happened to be the dominant force in their relationship; she was certainly the most energetic, but when push came to shove, it was her taller partner that called the shots… and right now, she really wanted to feel something other than a mouth and a throat wrapped around her dick. In fact, there was something welling up inside of her, a desire of sorts that she hadn’t felt in quite a while. The sight of such an eager mush going at it like her life depended on it gave Celia plenty of ideas, each lewder than the last, until finally it all culminated in her deciding to take their love and affection to a whole new level; after all, Mushlyn herself had been speaking about it for long enough that they both grew tired of it at times, so why not use this little outing to give the smaller elf exactly what she wanted?
With very little difficulty, Celia pushed her lover off of her cock, their lips smacking and popping as they released the tight seal they kept over the pillar of mushroom meat they were servicing. Spurts of pre flew at least a foot or two above their heads, a testament to how much was being produced underneath the steaming-hot water; not that Mushlyn had a lot of time to appreciate this, as she was immediately flipped around and had her partner grab her arms before effortlessly lifting her up, just enough that the pink shroom had a few moments to appreciate her slit being stretched open by the rod underneath her before it slammed into her body, Celia hilting herself inside of her lover and causing both women to cry out loudly enough that it somehow managed to echo against the tight cavern walls. The two held themselves like that for several seconds, trembling, waiting with bated breath for who broke first: would it be Mushlyn, whose voice would crack as she pleaded with her partner to please, oh please fuck her raw until she couldn’t walk straight? Or would it be Celia, whose breeding instincts were already manifesting in that drooling grin of theirs and whose nuts were loud enough to be heard even from above the water?
Turns out, both.
At about the same time as the pink shroom gal began to squeak and beg for her to be filled like a condom and then some, the dark gray one practically rose to her feet in order to anchor herself properly for what had to be done. It was no longer just sex, it was a necessity; the fumes, the heat, the water, the pheromones flying wildly in the air, all of it put together could only mean one thing: they had to breed. It didn’t matter that Celia’s cock was so massive that it could barely fit into the slit it was trying to get into, bulging out Mushlyn’s belly to the point where her skin was reddened from the strain of taking it all; certainly didn’t matter either that just the precum alone was already ballooning her outwards until the shape of that dick was barely even discernible. The sounds of both their juices dripping into the water below joined up with the waterfall, and anyone downstream would now have to worry about their pool being contaminated by the unholy mix of both the mushroom gals’ fluids; add to that the rhythmic thwapping and the plapping of nuts against Mushlyn’s rear, and it wasn’t surprising that despite the strong start, they’d finish extremely quickly.
Which for them, meant approximately fifteen or so minutes; they made sure to exercise.
The first proper wave of cum was already too big to fit inside of Mushlyn’s womb, and yet not only did she take it like it was absolutely nothing, Celia made sure to lock it all in by pushing as far deep as her cock could go, forming a surprisingly effective seal that prevented everything but the smallest of droplets and spurts from escaping. By that point, the pink shroom was pressed against the ground above the pool itself, with Celia standing upright, allowing the latter to use her weight to press down against the former. Minutes passed where she felt her nuts clench and dump load after load into her lover, that swollen belly of hers becoming larger by the second, until it went right past even the biggest of gravid sizes and directly into the realm of the utterly unreasonable. Wouldn’t take long before Mushlyn was tearing up from the strain, and the reason why became evident when she coughed up a mouthful of cum onto the ground in front of her, going quite insensate in the process.
It ended about as unceremoniously as it began, with Celia collapsing onto… well, it certainly wasn’t Mushlyn, or at least most of it wasn’t; the smaller shroom elf was no longer the smallest one of the two, with the trade-off that most of her body mass actually belonged to her partner. Her cumgut was so utterly colossal that it dwarfed the rest of her body, sloshing quietly with each time any of them shifted around in the afterglow. It would’ve been amazing all on its own, but they knew it held far more than just size.
And they knew that it was only going to get bigger from there. |
It was hard to tell whether inviting Sera over had been a good idea or the worst that Spikes had taken the liberty of putting to practice in the last few months; while the initial meeting had been quite warm, as it usually was, the sheer amount of unfettered, unbroken and endless posturing and flexing was quickly becoming unbearable for the two roommates, who had to fight a constant struggle, day in and day in, against what was happening to the draolf’s sister. It started off innocently enough, with her asking to make use of the private exercise room that Spikes had set up; seeing as she wasn’t going to forgo her daily regimen just because she was visiting her brother for a couple of weeks, neither him nor Tim thought to say no, as it would just be unnecessarily rude.
However, it quickly became clear that either she had ulterior motives from the start, or just blundered onto some and then kept on moving off of their momentum, because it was evident that her body was anything but normal. The first signs of the change were enough for Tim to immediately go into full panic mode, cornering Spikes in their bedroom and demanding to know if they should expect an explosive growth spurt like the ones the two of them often experienced, only for the male draolf to shrug and admit he had never seen Sera like that before; his sister had always been far stronger than him, but her body had obeyed the laws of physics up until then. Just why exactly she was packing on musculature far faster than she should was as much of a mystery to him as it was to the lynx, leaving the both of them to worry about what was in store for them after Sera had decided to extend her stay.
The other draolf, for her part, was thoroughly enjoying the sudden boost in efficiency; she’d never had issues in bulking up, goodness knows the opposite was more than true, but being able to watch in real time as her biceps bulged outwards each time she lifted a weight, as her legs thickened whenever she was done with a rep, or as her abs glistened with sweat whenever she finished a workout? That much was tickling parts of her brain that she didn’t even know were there to begin with… and she wanted more of it. It was a drug, especially given the stunned and aroused reactions she got around the house; it would’ve been amazing on its own, but having her own brother and his lover react the way they did whenever she showed up, carrying her ragged, tattered clothing on her as little more than scraps hanging from her shoulders, was perfection incarnate. If she could, she would do nothing more than just work out forever… and seeing as how she was on vacation, and just had her office close temporarily, she could certainly try for an approximation!
When the draolf informed the two that she intended to stop using their exercise room, both Tim and Spikes breathed several sighs of relief; when she pointed out that she’d be hitting the local gym instead, they both gulped so loudly it was almost comical. But what were they going to do, tell her to stop? Spikes’ sister could probably lift him just with one arm, and she was already tall enough that he could hang off of her bicep with his feet outstretched and still not touch the ground. It was imperative that Sera stop before it was too late, but no one in that house had the presence of mind to stand their ground and tell her that she was crossing a line; they were simply too turned on to do so.
So it was that the draolf began her new and improved regimen. Seeing as her body was going through gains much faster than she had anticipated, Sera could afford to be more intensive in her workouts, at times going so far that even her enhanced body felt the pain from how much it was forced to the limit; of course, all this did was accentuate the changes even more, resulting in a physical form that could only be described as the absolute peak of muscular perfection. Each step she took shook the very foundations of whatever building she was in, rattling windows in their frames and making doors wobble whenever she got close enough. If Sera didn’t pay attention, leaning onto a wall often caused it to crumble, with her hand piercing all the way through to the other side and leaving her stuck… until she ripped a large chunk of it away like it was nothing. Every day her frame bloated, swelled, muscle mass multiplying upon itself until her previous body shape, that of a buff-but-proportional bodybuilder, seemed like a puny weakling by comparison.
A week and a half was all it took for Spikes and Tim to dread the sight of Sera, not out of fear, but out of the healthy amount of arousal that always came with it; the male draolf in particular didn’t know what to make of his sudden fascination for his blood sibling, but he could only imagine that it was due to how utterly shameless she was in showing off her… curves? Honestly, he didn’t even know how to describe her; she was power incarnate at that stage, and yet she insisted she wasn’t even halfway to her goals. When was that girl going to stop, when the world was so tiny compared to her that she could bench-press it without even realizing it? That would’ve sounded completely insane just a literal week prior, and yet now it was such a real possibility that Spikes had to go back on his word and confide in Tim that he was honestly, genuinely terrified about what was going to happen… only for the lynx to echo his concerns and point out that they had no clue how to stop it either.
And did they want to stop it, was the question. Tim certainly had no intention of putting an end to that bulk-up adventure, and as much as Spikes was uncomfortable over all the sexually-charged energies he was generating towards Sera, he couldn’t find it within himself to beg for her to quit either, though at least he could rationalize it away as him caring too much about her to tell her to give up her dreams, as opposed to being so unbelievably aroused by her figure that he had to stifle a raging hard-on whenever he laid eyes on her. Sera herself was not only fully aware of this, but deliberately exploited it, either by leaning far too close onto them whenever they were talking about the subject, or just going around the house entirely nude after taking a bath, allowing her shimmering self to be presented in its absolute, utmost glory. The end result? A very horny Spikes and a very horny Tim, both of which were thoroughly entranced by the sight of the female draolf and what she had become, unable to put a stop to the madness… and this only meant that Sera could keep going to the gym every day, and return to her temporary home by night, looking significantly larger than she had been earlier. It got bad enough quickly enough that her head was soon enveloped by its very own muscle cushion, with how much her neck and back were developed, giving the impression that her body was some form of organic power armour. She was about as heavy as well, with each step she took making the house shudder and the walls groan, when she wasn’t just bursting through them in order to move between rooms, having become too big to use doorways properly. While Tim in particular minded the destruction, even their transformative powers weren’t enough to deal with the new menace… not after the draeolf found the lynx’s mass stash and promptly turned it all into protein shakes, only making a bad situation worse.
By that point, everyone in the neighborhood knew that Sera was around, if only because she insisted on walking from her temporary residence to the gym and back while completely nude; the draolf justified it by saying no clothing store had anything that could fit her, but then again, neither did she make any effort towards making any of her own, or ordering something custom-tailored from the many hyper-accessible outlets that offered that option. No, it appeared that, the larger she became, the more proud Sera was of her body, and the more she felt like showing it off to everyone that wanted to look at it, and plenty more that just didn’t have a choice. Neither Spikes nor Tim had any moral standing to complain about that point, given they were both extremely guilty of it as well; it just so happened that when they did it, it was far easier to ignore the consequences for running around being so massive that property damage followed in their wake, not to mention the countless gazes thrown at them by the little ones around the two. Now, they were the little ones, forced to deal with a hyper that was growing inexplicably quickly and seemed perfectly content with stretching the process out for as long as it could go, all while becoming more unwieldy with each passing hour.
Even the gym wasn’t enough for Sera, not when she became as wide as she was tall, and as tall as a building story, if not more; for a creature such as her, simply lifting weights no longer sufficed for the sort of growth hunger that churned away inside of her, and things very quickly spiralled out of control as soon as she decided that the establishment wasn’t worth her patronage. Instead, the draolf spent most of her time trying to find things to lift, things that would pose some degree of challenge for her and her new body; this had the predictable side-effect of only worsening her muscle build-up, as each new object that became the focus of her attention only added to her bulging frame. Sera’s biceps alone were already the size of a small car each, her legs thicker than tree trunks and her back and neck so bulked up that her head was practically encased in a shell of raw muscle mass, giving her the appearance of something that some would call grotesque, and others would cream their pants at the mere sight of. For the house’s resident couple, each day was a struggle, as they had to actively avoid looking at Sera in order to keep their composure, Spikes especially as he was dealing with a lot of unwanted filial love creeping up his backside… sometimes literally, giving Sera’s penchant for imposing herself physically upon them.
So it was that the female draolf began to do things that could charitably be described as “extremely destructive” at their very best, figuring that, if a gym no longer catered to her needs, then the rest of the world would just have to make due; given that there was no shortage of big and heavy things lying around, Sera assumed that no one would care too much if she decided to take some of them, even if their owners happened to be directly next to them. Tim and Spikes first saw what this meant in practice when the latter’s sister went outside, found the nearest parked car, and decided to use it as a weight, lifting it effortlessly with a single hand and gaining several dozen pounds of muscle over her left arm, which were then transferred to the rest of her body… each time she lifted the damned thing. The neighbor whose vehicle that was could only stand there, staring at his ride being utterly demolished as Sera’s grip tightened and large chunks of metal were ripped out of it, until the draolf tired of using it and moved on to the next one. By the end of the day, most of the people that the couple knew had been left carless, something they both knew would eventually end up falling on their heads, leaving them groaning in anguish when the first solicitors began to show up at their doors.
This, of course, wasn’t enough for Sera, who believed herself to be much too small to stop working out just yet. Indeed, the more she admired her body in front of a large pane of glass she stole from a skyscraper, the more she came to understand that her physical form, though the literal definition of muscular perfection, was nothing if not a cocoon, the first stage of her transformation into a true goddess of that world. Much like her brother had already ascended a couple of times, thus breaking physics hard enough that growthsplosions like hers could even take place, it stood to reason that she was owed a couple of similar experiences. As such, picking up parked cars quickly progressed to stopping trucks whenever they passed by, picking them up with a whole hand, then two fingers, then finally giving up entirely and sighing whenever she saw a vehicle get close enough to her that she had to take it into consideration.
At that point, the only thing left that could even remotely pose the smallest of challenges was, well… the neighborhood itself. With similar-sized houses, she figured she could get a couple of hours of a good workout after lifting the first one, and indeed, the time it took between her first digging her heels into the earth and her fingers underneath her brother’s home, ripping it off of its foundations with a shower of debris underneath, and no longer finding any enjoyment whatsoever in repeating the stunt… was about seven or so houses in, after which her body had grown so unbelievably colossal that there was very little left around those parts that could even remotely offer the smallest of challenges. Therefore, what better place to go than the city, promising apartment blocks and delicious skyscrapers that she could progress from barely being able to compete with, to looming over and being able to crush them with a single toe?
As Sera walked away, small earthquakes caused with each footstep, Tim and Spikes crawled from underneath the rubble that used to be their house, staring at one another with worried looks. They couldn’t stop it; the draolf was too strong now, too massive, and the only way to get rid of her would involve some unsavory tactics that her brother was not willing to even think about. Thus, the only thing they could do was try and match her, hopefully enough that Spikes could try and talk her down or, failing that, keep her pinned until a more permanent solution could be found.
“You still have the serum in the lower basement?” Spikes asked, brushing plaster off his shoulders.
“Extra-strength?” the lynx asked in reply.
“Extra-strength.” |
He didn’t really expect it to work, but then again, he had spent a considerable amount of his money buying the damned pill in the first place, so it was the least that it could do for him.
Cookie barely had a couple of seconds before the effects began to take hold of him, with his clothes bursting in every direction right after he swallowed the seemingly unassuming white pellet that nearly melted on his tongue. It was supposed to be an extra-strong variant of a commercially-available growth supplement, and if there was one thing in that description that truly hit home, it was the word “extra”; he’d heard tales of what the regular stuff did for people, already powerful enough to turn them into giants so large that compressor tech had to suddenly keep up with a lot more pressing demand thanks to people constantly breaking free of their homes, so for something to be experimental and stronger than that… well, the snow leopard couldn’t really say no to that.
What the snep couldn’t have expected was for it to feel so amazing! Rather than pressure or discomfort, he was instead filled with a sense of overwhelming might and power, like a furnace had been lit inside of his chest, a furnace that kept him wide awake, completely alert, and quite a bit hungry for fuel. There was no doubting it, that raging inferno suddenly birthed into existence wasn’t going to feed on sunshine and prayers; it very much demanded that he do something about how amazingly hungry it suddenly felt. It only made sense; after all, since he himself was suddenly a few feet taller and still growing bigger with each passing second, his body needed a suitable amount of caloric energy in order to keep it from collapsing in on itself, and given how infatuated Cookie was with his own burgeoning self, he was more than happy to throw anything he could find directly into his ravenous maw.
It seemed at that point that even breathing in more heavily than before was enough to get him going, almost as if he was consuming the very atmosphere around him; it certainly fit into the furnace metaphor, given the need for oxygen, and the strength of the gusts of wind caused by his uncontrolled draining of whatever air he could get his lungs on caused whatever remained of nearby onlookers to search for shelter, lest they be flattened against the ground and dragged towards that budding colossus. It was hard for the snep to even tell just how quickly he was growing anymore; in between the constant rate that the pill had given him, the heavy breathing and, eventually, him outright taking huge chunks out of buildings, he had suddenly gone from a perfectly unassuming feline to an enormous, thirty-foot-tall colossus of a snep that still insisted on growing even larger. Soon he’d be towering over most of the structures around him, taking whole handfuls of concrete and rebar and just stuffing them down his gullet, seemingly capable of transforming even the most inorganic of materials into even more raw mass for his ascension… though not without consequences.
As his whole body grew, so too did a very specific part of him, in excess to what the rest of him was experiencing; who could really fault Cookie for being aroused when all of his size goals were being met, shattered, and then readjusted so they could be beaten again? He was turning into a macro-grade giant, so of course his cock was going to be as hard as it could possibly be… and of course, his arousal was going to be so high that he could barely even think straight anymore, to the point where suddenly he felt a very intense, almost insurmountable need to stick that dick somewhere big enough to satisfy that burning desire of his to fuck something.
It was all happening so fast, and yet all that the snep could think of was to hilt himself inside of something, specifically something big enough to hold him; with his body still climbing towards the clouds at a respectably steady rate of a couple of feet every other second, the city around him was starting to fall away from view, with Cookie only capable of seeing the tops of buildings. Soon enough, there wouldn’t be anything left that he could use for stress relief, and that idea left him so terrified and stressed out that he figured it’d be best if he just went for it; no thoughts, no concerns, just running towards the nearest biggest building and shoving his turgid equine shaft into it as hard as he could. Thankfully, there was a whole downtown area he could use for just that task, one filled with skyscrapers of a wide variety of styles and sizes, all of which had one thing in common: they were big.
Cookie barely noticed as his wide footsteps left enormous holes in the ground whenever he moved close to his target, his perspective constantly shifting as he grew taller still, giving him an extra incentive to get a move on and disregard the damage he was doing to his surroundings just for the sake of sating that need that had taken over all of his conscious self. Apartment blocks were knocked over, whole retail districts stamped flat, but in the end, he made it there; with his eyes practically shining and his hands moving up on their own to grasp at the tallest structure he could find, Cookie outright knocked every other skyscraper around him onto the ground like they were made of tissue paper as he pulled back his hips, aimed the tip of his dick directly at the mid-section of the tower he chose as his object of affection, and promptly speared through the whole thing with a single thrust.
Neither steel nor glass could get in his way. One moment the snep was bent over and looking down at his throbbing shaft, the next his back was arched forward, he was letting loose a yowl-turned-roar that literally parted the clouds above him, and his shaft was buried so deeply into the skyscraper’s frame that most of it was jutting out from the other side. He was left breathless, unable to really formulate a plan of action, and as such the giant’s muscle memory kicked in; realizing that it was now or never, his body moved on its own to give its owner the most amount of pleasure possible, bucking Cookie’s hips for him on instinct in order to properly fuck that building like the fucktoy that it was. With each motion, the snep only got bigger, the hole punched through the skyscraper widening until it was a hole no longer, but simply a tear, with half of the building left perched precariously atop the shaft responsible for the split, and the other half crumbling underneath it.
But that was fine, because Cookie had outgrown such silly needs in the short time it took for him to utterly destroy the biggest building in his former home city. He was bigger now, more important than a single structure, powerful enough that, by the time he came back to his senses, even the downtown area barely registered as any different from its surroundings; everything was just an undifferentiated mess of sparkling metal and dull stone, melting into a grey blotch of landscape that would soon become just another thing for him to step on and forget about, as the whole world shrank around him at record speed. From there, it was a simple step towards orbit, or rather, towards growing so massive that the gravitational pull of the planet was no longer enough to keep him grounded, and as soon as that happened, there wasn’t a lot else that could be done to hold him back.
Not that Cookie had the best self-control around, but up until then he hadn’t actively lusted after the very planet that he used to call home, and neither did he look around at the cosmos as one big, immense snack that was just waiting for him to pick up and devour like it was nothing but a salted cracker. And yet, as his body continued to grow and outsize the very Earth, as he felt himself be pushed out as his own mass surpassed that of his homeworld, what he saw floating in front of him wasn’t the Blue Marble, the only known cradle for life in the whole universe, but rather something that he could, and should, be devouring in order to fuel his ascension even further. It was hard to believe that just minutes earlier he had been so small as to be able to fit through doors, and indeed the snep couldn’t really understand how and why any of this was taking place, but he did know one thing: he was hungry, ravenous, even, and if there was one thing that could sate this gnawing void in his stomach, it was the planet in front of him.
But he wasn’t yet big enough. Certainly on a scale so vast as to be able to hug Earth, sinking his fingers into two different oceans and rubbing his cock against it until he dug an enormous groove along several thousand miles that created tsunamis and triggered earthquakes, but not nearly big enough to just chomp down on it. It was, of course, just a matter of time; eventually, he would grow to be able to hold the whole Earth on a single palm, then between two fingers, so he needn’t worry about that. In fact, if it was such an inevitability, why not make good use of it? Why not do to his homeworld what he had to the skyscraper just a few moments before, holding it firmly as he adjusted the tip of his cock to press firmly against its surface, the snep’s body trembling all over as he prepared himself for a thrust that would see him break through the Earth’s mantle and straight through the core…
… or so he thought. Truth was, his body once more reacted to this unbridled display of lust in the same way it had previously, granting him such an immense and sudden burst of size and might that, by the time Cookie bottomed out inside of the planet, he didn’t end up touching its very center so much as pierce through the whole thing and end up ejecting the solid iron-nickel core from the other side, his equine shaft poking out the other end and already rending the two halves of Earth as it thickened considerably in a short amount of time. The snep knew he had to act quickly: pulling back, he held the shattered remains of his home planet in his two hands, staring at the hole he poked through it, until it grew too small for him to use both palms, then too small to fit in just one without floating away, until finally, the giant brought the diminutive little blue thing to his mouth, shoved it inside, and it ceased to be two seconds later as he chewed it down.
Earth was gone. The rest of the solar system remained. And it too would soon be devoured.
With the inner, rocky planets being little more than a tasty snack for Cookie at the size that he was at, it was no surprise that, by the time he even got to the outlying gas giants, even they didn’t pose that much of a challenge for him anymore. It almost seemed as if being in space made him grow faster now that he didn’t have to worry about remaining planetbound, having so much more empty room to expand into that whatever process the pill kickstarted went into overdrive and left his body incapable of even so much as remaining stable in its own growth speed; if he bothered to actually check, the snep would quickly realize his rate of expansion was accelerating over time, enough that, when he finally turned to face the Sun after everything else was devoured… it was tiny.
Not just small, not just insignificant, but tiny, barely able to occupy the tip of a single one of Cookie’s fingers when he carefully picked it up and brought it close to his eyes. Its rays were effectively indistinguishable from the rest of the starlight surrounding him, and the longer he went on staring at it, the more it became just as small as all the other little glimmering lamps surrounding him in every direction. It almost felt like a waste to just eat it, especially since he wouldn’t even feel it going down. No, he needed something better, something that would truly affirm his status as the new god of his reality.
The snep didn’t know how it came to pass, nor how he realized he could do it. It simply came to him naturally, just like the breathing that he no longer had to do in order to survive, or like moving an arm; it was instinctive, in a way, so much so that the first time it happened, Cookie didn’t even notice it until he saw a large swath of the sky that used to have stars in it had suddenly gone dark. It was only after he turned around to inspect it, in the process noticing that he was leaving further voids behind him, that the burgeoning god finally understood what was going on: he was absorbing the stars, nebulae and the interstellar medium around him simply through him existing, his mere passage alone being enough to erase enormous sections of his galactic arm as his body consumed everything in its path… and, in the process, growing ever more gigantic ever quicker and more efficiently, until the top of his head was so far above the galactic plane that he could actually see the shape of said galaxy, just like it had been in his old school textbooks.
It was beautiful, a lightshow of epic proportions just there for him to appreciate… in more ways than one. He bent over, bringing a hand to the galactic center where the brightest and densest mass was located, scooping up a handful of it like it was a thick, viscous syrup before letting it “fall” into his mouth, gulping down greedily what he assumed were millions of stars and goodness knows how many tons of hydrogen. He took another handful after that, and then another, and by the time he went for a fourth, there really wasn’t a galaxy left for him to take anymore; it had either been consumed by his direct feeding, or the rest of his body had handily taken care of all the bits he hadn’t chowed down on.
But that was fine. After all, he could now see the bright glimmer of millions, billions of other galactic structures all around him. Who’s to say that he couldn’t simply reach out and grab one, substituting stars for whole clusters, superclusters into galactic ones, until the universe itself was being drained down into his eternally hungry belly?
Who would ever stop him? |
It was, in all respects, not exactly the most friendly way of introducing him to the job, but presumably the best one to help him get over stage fright; it wasn’t as if the club could afford to spend a small fortune in training lessons just so their newest hire could walk out without shaking from head to toe, so the best they managed was to book him for a Monday night and hope for the best. Thankfully for Rioku, the house wasn’t nearly as full as it was during the weekends, giving him some measure of inner peace; at least, if he fucked up, it wouldn’t be in front of hundreds of people. With a final pat on the head and a free drink courtesy of one of the backstage managers, the young man was… not necessarily ready, but close enough to it that he felt like he couldn’t turn back; granted, it would’ve been somewhat easier on him if whatever was in that glass didn’t leave his throat feeling like he’d just swallowed paint thinner mixed with a healthy dose of kerosene, but at least it woke him up properly!
Hard to be concerned about making a fool of himself when his focus was split between wanting to choke whoever gave him that concoction and trying to process the agony that came from swallowing a shot of absinthe’s older, grumpier estranged brother. With that in mind, Rioku crossed the threshold, doing his best to keep his sputtering to a minimum as the announcer called out his name to everyone in the club, pulling several pairs of eyes towards the scantily clad, svelte young thing on the stage. Beyond that, Rioku was happy to find that things became somewhat automatic; all he had to do was let muscle memory take the wheel and his body turned out to be surprisingly well-adapted to performing his routine without a lot of conscious input, giving him precious time to come up with new and improved coping strategies for actually being on stage in front of actual people for the first time since his employment began.
All the practice runs in the world could do little for stage fright, even if the ingrained motions did provide an adequate layer of defence against the dreadful realization that he was actually dancing for a bunch of horned-up patrons who really wanted to see him shake his goods in front of them in a variety of increasingly lewd and scandalous ways… provided they paid for it, of course; the club wasn’t running a charity. All that said, Rioku was finding it incredibly easy to just dance, to let go of all his thoughts and worries and allow his body to do what it had trained itself to do. To live in the moment and ignore everything else; the crowd seemed rowdy enough that they were probably enjoying it, so why bother with anything else? Why think about anything other than the continuing motions, the flow, the air currents bristling against his hairs, which for some odd reason were standing on end?
Why worry himself with anything beyond the odd sensation of warmth spreading through his entire body, starting off in his stomach and taking over an increasing amount of his physical form? Well, he couldn’t just stop in the middle of his routine; or rather, he could, and his rational side was more than aware of this, but there was something else keeping him from doing so, a sense of duty that insisted he carry on his performance. Even when he looked down and saw what was happening to him, Rioku still failed to force himself to stop, since by then, it had become part of the show; it wasn’t every day that one of the dancers suddenly and inexplicably transformed while on stage (indeed, it wasn’t any day), and while much of Rioku’s conscious self was screaming in abject terror, this yelling could barely be heard over the cacophony that were his pleasure centers shouting at him to keep going, muffling everything other than his base, almost animalistic desire to have the show carry on regardless of how dangerous it might be.
The hooting and hollering of the crowd, the crude comments, the bellowed encouragement, all of it worked together to keep his feet (metaphorically) glued to where he stood (would’ve been hard to dance had it been literal); he would not leave, that much Rioku knew, even when his skimpy outfit began to feel tighter as a result of his body turning into something… different. The hairs standing on end should’ve been his first red flag, because he didn’t have hair on his body; he’d gone out of his way to shave himself in order to play the part properly, so him having anything there to signify goosebumps was step one in the escalating change into another form entirely.
Step two was his entire body swelling outwards as he gained additional height… and additional weight as well. Rioku initially panicked at the prospect of his carefully maintained physique suddenly being “ruined” by having a bunch of pudge added onto it, but with so many of the patrons around him openly calling out for the “chunky” whatever or such, he figured he was relatively fine. Either that, or the horny part of his brain had taken over completely and stopped him from properly processing what was happening; regardless of the truth, Rioku saw himself widen almost as much as he lengthened, gaining enough height to break the seven-foot line, but enough fat on him to leave him in the very high triple digits.
Yet, seeing as it came packaged with an oddly familiar coat of fur, as well as a distribution that just made it look good, it wasn’t nearly as harsh of a transformation as the young man (?) first thought it would be; indeed, if it weren’t for the fact that he was on stage to begin with, he might just have succumbed to that sudden urge to plunge one of his hands into that pudgy belly of his, just to see how far down he could sink them. This was almost immediately replaced by a near-insurmountable desire to bring those greedy fingers down to his dick instead, because of course the transformation would extend to it eventually, and of course it had to happen after Rioku decided he was going to use the smallest piece of lingerie he could get away with.
It already barely covered anything, so as soon as his cock and nuts began to swell, the small piece of cloth didn’t last for more than a few seconds. At least his audience seemed to enjoy it about as much as he did; either that, or by some twist of fate, something else entirely happened outside his field of view that caused several dozen people to start openly shouting like they were particularly fanatical football fans whose favourite team had just done something that would be remembered for years to come under some ridiculously pompous name like “The Golden Moment”. Hard to tell; the flood of serotonin that came with having his new package break out of containment was so powerful that it very nearly knocked Rioku out for several seconds, it being nothing short of a miracle that he managed to hold onto the metal pole he’d been using for support.
Even breathing in deeply didn’t work; for whatever reason, his olfactory sense had been supercharged to the point where he could smell himself, and not in the bad way either. He’d never thought he’d say it, but he could practically taste the musk coming off of him, the bestial scent that made it clear just what he was turning into; not that he wasn’t aware, but… somehow, when it filled his nostrils, it became more “real”, as if by imposing itself upon his newest and most well-developed new sense, the change asserted itself as actually happening. Granted, it was hard to ignore the way his very skeletal structure was being rearranged along with the more obvious bits; the heightened sense of smell didn’t just come from internal changes, but was helped along by his skull elongating into a much more canine shape, giving Rioku a muzzle that was distinctly dog-like in appearance.
If he were more educated in the intricacies of dog breeds, and if he had the ability to fully appreciate himself in a mirror, the young “man” would’ve been able to pinpoint just what he turning into: a bipedal, human-like version of a malamute, complete with a thick (and still thickening) coat of fur and enough fat on him to help get through those cold arctic winters. Yet, he was still “stuck” inside a club, and most certainly stuck on stage given that he didn’t have the luxury of just stepping off of it; his employer would kill him if he abandoned his routine when the crowd was so worked up, not to mention the sheer market value in a sudden transformation like his; rather, his mind turned to other, far more carnal outlets for the surprising amount of horny energy he had built up inside him.
Rioku didn’t even realize just how aroused he was until he took the time to look down at himself and truly appreciate what his body had become, from the chubby belly down to the plump rump and fat thighs, the soft fur coat and the frankly enormous package between his legs (which, by that point, was dragging along the ground). It at least allowed him to understand why everyone in the club was being so much louder than even usual; it simply didn’t occur to Rioku that the patrons might genuinely have enjoyed his transformation so much that they didn’t want it to end, hence why so many of them were loudly decrying that “it’s over already?!” as if the dancer on stage could just keep going after swapping species entirely.
Not that said dancer could blame them; if it felt that good to him, he could only begin to imagine what it was like for those watching… and especially one person in particular, a face in the crowd that Rioku recognized. Oh, that smile on his face, the licking of his lips with his brand new tongue; he didn’t know Ken was going to be there, nor could he imagine that the cheetah would show up then of all nights. Perhaps it was fate, that the two were destined to meet one another precisely when the former human was so far gone from his usual self that he didn’t think twice of bending over suggestively as he faced his long-time friend, doing his best to shake what nature gave him (assuming it was indeed nature and not some volatile chemical concoction he happened to imbibe), much to the delight of both the cheetah and everyone else in the room.
With the temperature in there rising from sheer contact high and the rustling of the crowd, the air filled with the delighted hooting of a group of customers being given exactly what they wanted, it really didn’t take long before the first suggestions began flying; while it was entirely against policy for the dancers to get involved with the crowd, neither Rioku nor Ken were in any particular rush to listen to the rulebook, especially not with dozens of others egging them on. If the now-malamute had looked behind him, he would’ve noticed a familiar face peeking out from behind the curtains covering the entrance to the backstage area, someone who was, as well, smiling very widely, along with a handful of others who wanted to see where things went.
With the atmosphere thus perfect for the breaking of rules, and motivations spiked in just the right manner to get Rioku to do something they would never do under any other circumstances, the transformed human turned towards Ken… and took a step. Between the jiggling of his immense self and the dragging of his nuts and cock against the soft, carpeted floor, it was a wonder he even managed to reach the cheetah with his mind in one piece; perhaps it was the knowledge of what he was going to do to his friend that kept Rioku going, hence the beaming (and oddly predatory) grin adorning his new muzzle.
Once at Ken’s table, all he had to do was lift his dick and slam it onto the flat surface between them, very nearly cracking the varnished wood in half from impact alone, the weight of the malamute’s shaft enough to start widening the cracks created by its descent. And from there, it was but a few seconds before Ken had shot up to his feet only to then almost immediately drape himself over that beast of a rod, slobbering all over its slick surface before turning around, throwing himself onto the ground… and presenting.
There was no other word for it, not when the musk ran so powerfully and the air was as hot as the one in the club was; this was no lovemaking, no sex, this was rutting, and Ken was begging for it with how quickly they were breathing and how much they were puckering down there. It gave Rioku all the excuses he could possibly ask for, especially now that he had invested fully and couldn’t exactly turn back around without a very good reason for why he’d broken so many rules; as far as the malamute cared, if he was in for a penny, he might as well be in for a pounding, since at least then the customers would get the show they were looking for.
Surely, if he gave them something to remember for years to come, then his boss would at least think of being merciful once the pleasure high came down and he returned to normal (assuming such a thing ever happened). At least, that’s what Rioku thought when he unceremoniously hilted himself within Ken, not even bothering with foreplay as he slammed himself down fully and caused the cheetah to practically yelp with how quickly that moan left their throat.
With the crowd erupting into cheers, and plenty of bills being thrown his way, it was just so easy to let muscle memory take over; it was just like back on stage, where all he needed to do was let his body take the wheel so his conscious mind could focus on the experience itself. Did it matter that he was probably getting fired the moment this was all over? Hardly. He had his pleasure high to carry him all the way home, and a brand new body to explore once he had some time for himself. For now, however, he had Ken; sweet, pliable, tight Ken, begging him to go harder, along with dozens of unfamiliar faces egging him on to do what the cheetah was demanding of him.
Really, what else could he ask for? That was the best first day he’d ever had at a new job. |
“I’m reasonably certain this isn’t how you make a baking substitute. Or bread. Or anything that’s supposed to be eat-Spikes, are you sure I’m supposed to be able to do this, it feels like this recipe is going to self-destruct after I’m done with it.”
“Trust me” - the tone with which the Rena said this made it clear that Tim shouldn’t - “It’s fine! I bought it off a friend who got it from Craigslist from a guy who found it lying on a laptop in a bar after-hours where their cousin worked at, I’m pretty sure it’s legit.”
The sequence of words that had just come out of Spikes’ mouth did perhaps the exact opposite of what Spikes himself intended for them to do, which was impressive given how much effort the Renamon usually put into trying to convince the lynx to go along with their latest scheme. For them to so clearly not care about whether or not their idea would work, or if their partner would be willing to abide by the insanity, could only mean that Spikes had either lost it completely, or was so enamored by what he believed would happen that he couldn’t bring himself to pretend to be calm and collected… and, given how the Rena seemed perfectly sane otherwise, Tim had no recourse but to believe the latter option, which was why he was even going along with the whole thing in the first place.
He was probably going to need additional cookware by the time he was done though; as much as the lynx wasn’t an expert cook, he knew enough about the culinary arts to be very certain that pots and pans weren’t supposed to emit so much smoke that the couple had to turn off the fire alarm, nor were they meant to rattle that hard with no obvious source of vibration. No recipe he’d ever seen contained depleted uranium and biofuel pellets in such large quantities either, raising the question of just what he was supposed to be cooking; taken with Spikes’ wide eyes, his hungry expression, and the occasional licking of the lips, there were so many red flags flying about that one could hardly see the ground.
Yet, Tim kept going anyway; it wasn’t as if anything could actually harm him, and Spikes had survived some truly astoundingly hazardous situations, so as far as either of them cared, anything that could potentially come out of that cooking nightmare wasn’t liable to do anything more than leave a scratch. That is, of course, until the timer began ringing, signalling the end of the three-hour reduction process and, hopefully, the end of all that damned smoke filling the kitchen; as if on cue, the billowing plumes ceased, almost as if someone had cut through the pillars of dark-grey haze with an ethereal blade, severing them from their source.
Left behind, in the enormous cast iron pot that used to be the perfect one for stews, was… well, Tim didn’t know what it was, but it certainly looked wrong enough that it justified the convoluted chain of events that led to Spikes getting hold of that recipe book (or recipe pamphlet… or recipe dossier, given the multiple instances of CLASSIFIED stamped on it in bright red ink): stuck to the bottom of the pot was a thick, viscous goop, emerald-green in colour, settled so perfectly that it was difficult to tell at times whether it was actually a congealed gelatin of sorts, or just a very still liquid.
And Tim had about five seconds to appreciate this before the Rena barged in to take a good look at it, a wide, manic grin spreading across his muzzle when he grabbed both sides of the pot, somehow managing to avoid any burns, and promptly lifted it before the lynx could do anything to stop him. The goop, obeying gravity as it very well should, then proceeded to… not splash all over Spikes’ face, but rather direct itself right into his mouth, as if funnelled into it by some invisible force field. It rippled and bulged out in odd, abnormal ways, almost like it was impelling itself forward and deliberately keeping to a shape that would keep any of it from spilling onto the floor, choosing instead to flow directly down the Renamon’s gullet.
A Renamon who, despite the obvious danger to his own health and safety, looked extremely pleased with himself, especially once he was done gorging on whatever that substance was and threw the pot onto the floor, where it then shattered into a million pieces as if made of brittle ice. All of this happened within the span of about ten seconds, leaving Tim with very little to do but stare in slack-jawed amusement at just what the hell had happened in front of him. He’d get his answers sooner rather than later, when Spikes’ belly began to rumble at a volume that was perhaps too loud for anyone in the vicinity to feel remotely comfortable with; it was the sort of noise that only made itself known when someone made some truly unfortunate choices in what they consumed, or, alternatively, decided to go binge some junk food at three o’clock in the morning after a particularly heavy night of drinking.
Seeing as neither of those things were true, Tim’s eyebrows were both firmly cocked and ready to see just what in blazes was going to happen, which just so happened to be a whole lot of swelling. Nothing that unusual in that household; plenty of swelling happened on the regular whether or not the two of them intended for it to happen, but that one was… different. There were no muscles, no cumtanks bloating, no cock thickening to the point where it could be used as a tree branch to hang from; instead, it was (rather appropriately) Spikes’ belly which began to expand outwards, resulting in a very contented-looking Rena taking both hands down to his gut to massage it and give it a good rubdown, sinking his fingers ever so slightly into the burgeoning pudge.
The reason why became evident just a few moments later, when their skin and fur began to change colour… to a rather conspicuous emerald-green. Just as the apparent texture of them started to shift as well, Tim rolled his eyes, let loose a loud, theatrically overblown sigh, then pulled up a chair; he wouldn’t be getting out of the kitchen now, not when Spikes was between him and the door, most certainly a deliberate play on their end. Nevermind the fact that the Rena was already on his knees and basically unable to think about anything other than moaning whenever he felt and-or heard the rumbling of his slime-stuffed belly, his body gradually turning into the same colour as the living goop that Tim had inadvertently helped to create.
Honestly, making synthetic life wasn’t even the weirdest thing that had happened in that kitchen that month, but the lynx would’ve at least preferred if Spikes had just told him what the plan was; instead, now the both of them had to wait until the inevitable point when the Rena’s bloated gut began to overtake all the space around it, so the real fun could begin. Tim could start earlier; it was entirely within his power to throw himself onto the Renamon and start rubbing away, but he knew better than to try and do so, not until said Rena was nice, plump, juicy, and begging for stimulation. That last bit was the most important, to be fair, as it marked the point beyond which a good rubdown would be required, lest Spikes end up a sourpuss after being blue-balled too badly; not that Tim would ever be so mean as to outright deny his beloved Rena the arousal they needed, but it was important for them to understand the value of when to tease, and when to let rest… especially when this “rest” was so heavily characterized by a whole lot of slime-like bloating, courtesy of whatever the hell it was the lynx was persuaded to cook up.
All of Spikes’ form had begun to take on a more rounded countenance, not just his belly; while the Rena’s midriff was certainly the part that most benefited from the infusion of slime mass, the fattening agent seemed to spread to the rest of him in some way or another, not only turning him into an increasingly large, goopy, emerald-green sphere, but fattening up his arms and legs to the point where he couldn’t walk even if he wanted to. That was a pretty big “if” as well; stranded as he was underneath a gut that refused to stop swelling, the Rena couldn’t be happier with the way things had turned out. Really, if not for the fact that he was gritting his teeth to help deal with the pleasure overload, he would’ve been moaning like a slut the whole time, begging for more whenever the sensations grew too powerful for him to remain halfway cognizant of what he was actually asking for.
Soft burbles filled the air, as the goop multiplying within Spikes’ body overtook his entire physiology, turning flesh to multipurpose slime and muscle to more slime and bone to even more slime, until most of the Rena was just a huge, semi-spherical, translucent mass that nonetheless retained its shape quite nicely instead of splattering all over the ground. He was like gelatin, almost as if he’d been cast in a mould and now refused to leave whatever form he was given, even if said form was highly variable as a result of the slime entity still not being done; while Spikes’ arms and legs remained as they were, albeit slightly more rounded and pudgier, most of his body mass was focused entirely on his immense, rotund belly, a colossal, room-obscuring, wall-pushing, table-cracking and counter-occupying gut that rumbled and slorshed with such intensity that Tim was left blushing at the thought of what it would be like if he did something stupid, like throw himself in there, or at least just hugged the damned mass and let fate take the wheel.
As for the Rena, he was too busy being overwhelmed by his own form to really understand anything of what was happening to him; all he could manage to do was push his hands into a torso that was little more than a huge ball of slime, at that point barely able to move past his enlarged, flabby pecs to reach the real prize of the show. It was impressive really, just how enormous that belly became, and how warm it was as well; the lynx couldn’t help himself, not when he had it so close to him, not when it was just there for him to take and he had no reason not to do so.
He couldn’t stop his body from moving on practically its own accord, having him throw himself onto the surprisingly soft and gelatinous surface of the Renamon’s gut. It was, indeed, just like slightly molten rubber, insofar as molten rubber managed to keep itself stuck in one piece rather than splitting off in thick, goopy strands whenever anyone touched it; there was some amount of give to it, so much so that Tim could easily plunge his arms into his partner’s belly all the way up to their elbows (and presumably even deeper; he just didn’t think to keep going), but unlike what one might expect, the Rena’s form remained as one. As malleable as he may be, there was no goop bridging the gap, clinging to Tim’s hands and arms, no chunks of slime falling off whenever there was an abrupt growth spurt or the Rena bumped into a sharp corner. His “skin” was very much a solid surface, even if one with a surprising amount of flexibility, and as soon as he understood this, Tim no longer had any reason to hold back.
Part of his reluctance to go as far as he could was precisely because he didn’t know whether it would do anything to harm Spikes; it was entirely possible that the transformation had left him with nonexistent structural integrity, and the last thing the lynx wanted to do was scrape his partner off the walls and ceiling in order to put him back. As soon as he realized this wasn’t the case though? Well, the Rena best believe the lynx immediately went to town, plunging himself deep into Spikes’ belly, perfectly convinced that there was no way this could possibly go wrong. And, for a short while, it didn’t; just like Tim had anticipated, what he had there was not the goopy and barely-solid body of a proper slime, but the pliable softness of a creature that could only exist through the absurd excesses of someone like the Rena, whose complete disregard for his own body was only matched by his ability to turn it into something absurdly enjoyable whenever he set his mind to it.
Of course, this could only last for so long before fate did indeed conspire to take the wheel and show Tim just why he should still be wary of throwing caution to the wind, because, as it turned out, Spikes’ new slime self might be solid, but it wasn’t impermeable. It happened quickly enough that the lynx couldn’t react to it (not that he would even if he could, but still): one moment he was merely buried within a good foot of slimy pudge, and the next, with a mighty, room-rumbling glorp, he was inside. No fanfare, no warning, just a simple change of state, where one second he still had air around him, and the next he was fully surrounded by slime in every direction, his body somewhat stiff as the interior of Spikes’ body turned out to be far more congealed than even Tim expected.
He thought about opening his mouth, but immediately reconsidered when he felt something pushing against his closed lips; taken with the muffled giggling coming from above, the lynx was left to assume that Spikes had developed significant control over of his new form and was dying for an opportunity to start pumping himself into his lover at the slightest possible opening. Given how the tight grip of the slime itself seemed only to get tighter as the seconds ticked by, Tim was left to realize that he’d just made a very big mistake… yet one that he would do again if given the chance, because if there was anything that made every button on his control panel go wild, it was that exact scenario: himself, stuck inside his slime lover, with the latter trying their level best to make another slime out of him, stuck inside a room much too small to handle just one of them, much less two colossi of goop. Really, it was all that he could ask for.
Even if he would only leave hours later.
If at all. |
The walk over to the cabin was surprisingly pleasant; the heat had given up just enough that neither of them were too tired, leaving them with enough time and energy left to drop their stuff by the side of the water, strip and then jump in, the lake being just cool enough to serve as the perfect contrast for their journey there. Iris and Tempest had decided to take a short trip to a summer cabin the latter had rented out, taking advantage of an extended weekend to get some quality time between the two of them; with work having been exhausting, all they really wanted was to spend a couple of days alone in one another’s presence, no one there to bother or make demands of them, no schedules or obligations… just the two of them, happy as could be, embracing in the middle of a cold lake and sharing an intimate kiss. It was customary for the two swans to just lose themselves in one another for hours at a time, and if not for them having to keep afloat, they were in the perfect spot to spend most of the day exploring one another’s forms. Tempest, in particular, took every opportunity he could get to massage her lover’s ample breasts; he knew it helped with how sore she was always felt, even if just a little, so as a doting partner he figured it was his duty to give her whatever assistance she needed. It was a fortunate side-effect of his ministrations that the larger bird’s milk production had a tendency to increase the more her breasts were properly attended to, something that both of them were eager to abuse whenever they had the chance; and right there, in the middle of that lake, where weight meant very little, just seemed like the perfect spot. The couple remained there for as long as they could before their tired legs began to give out, but not before Tempest got a good ten minutes of resting his head in between his partner’s chest-obscuring, marshmallow-soft pillows, hands sinking into their pudge just beneath the waterline. Iris could feel the production inside starting to kick in, and on that moment, had a perfect idea. Poor Tempest had been working so hard, and even went the full mile to get them a cabin in the most amazing spot ever… so she would treat him. Typically, the two were content with just milking her whenever she showed signs of being fuller than usual; this led to her breasts having gained a few cup sizes ever since they started dating, even more than the natural growth Iris just normally went through. Though she was capable of filling far past capacity, it was normally too much trouble than it was worth, what with them having to deal with their work and everyday responsibilities. But there, far from anything and anyone, alone for two days without a care in the world? Well, what better time and place to test her limits a bit?
Carrying him over from the lake to the cabin, Iris made sure never to let Tempest go; with about four feet of difference between the two of them, carrying the tiny boy with his head stuck between her tits had become a bit of a tradition whenever they could afford to get friskier than usual, and their retreat would be no different. The smaller male’s eyes fluttered close as his arms wrapped themselves instinctively around his partner’s waist, allowing his weight to rest easily on her frame; Iris could carry him without a sweat, so no need to worry about it, really. Once inside, it was straight to the bath for the both of them; after the hike and the swim, Iris had planned on just snuggling about lazily in bed for a couple of hours before they got started on making dinner, and after deciding on keeping herself “contained” for the sake of giving Tempest something to worry about, taking a bath was just a necessity; her lover had the most amazing knack for finding parts of her she wasn’t even aware she had, what with his smaller size letting him really get into all of her curves in the most minute detail. More often than not he’d just boobhat himself, using a bellyrub as an excuse when no such excuse was even needed; that particular shower was no exception, as Iris wanted to make sure to tease Tempest as much as she could. The first sign the young swan got that his predilection for milk wasn’t going to be satisfied in the usual way was when Iris kept gently pushing his beak away from her nipples whenever he tried to get too close; he figured it was just her not understanding what he was doing at first, but when his further attempts were frustrated, he began wondering just what was happening. Only after looking up and seeing Iris’ teasing smile, accompanied by one of her fingers wagging from side to side, did he realize what he was being forbidden from doing. Did she go loopy from all the heat? Didn’t she know what building up milk did for her? She was already pushing it, not having drained herself before heading to the cabin, and now she wanted more? Truly, it should have made Tempest worry about his partner’s decisions… but, on the other hand, her bust was sloshing deliciously every time she swung it from side to side, and she did seem to like doing that quite a lot. It was hypnotic, irresistible, and he soon found himself turning his head to accompany the rhythm, right before sinking it into that fluffy, feathery paradise, making sure to keep his hands busy grabbing so much of Iris’ soft flesh that it overflowed between his fingers. Instinct took over after that, with Tempest being completely unaware of his arms moving to pick up some soap, running on auto-pilot when he dutifully reached for every spot on Iris’ body that he could get his hands on. It was a ritual the two shared, and one that had been perfected over time, hence why their showers always took far longer than they should; at least they emerged from them looking cleaner than the soap they were using, just in time to wrap a towel around their two bodies and lazily make their way to the bedroom, where the next stage of their quality alone time would take place.
Their short stay at the cabin had already produced visible results on Iris’ bust, courtesy of her refusal to allow Tempest to relieve any pressure; she was quick to fill up, even quicker to bloat, and without any real limits to how large she could become, the thought of just cutting loose and seeing how far she could take herself was always in her head to some degree or another. Her natural size before meeting her loverboy was already constantly increasing, but Tempest’s tender touch had made sure that the rate had slowly accelerated over time. Stretching out with milky build-up and then draining herself smaller left her bust more capable of accommodating increases in size, and what was initially just easier bloating quickly turned into permanent mass. Iris hadn’t expected to sport a pair of tits big enough to cover her chest until several years later, and yet there she had them, unable to go any smaller. And with how hard Tempest was taking care of them on the way to their bedroom, the larger swan could only dream of what size goals she’d reach during those two days alone in the woods. The bed itself creaked hard enough for the both of them to flinch in response, having to very carefully lower their bodies onto the mattress to avoid doing any permanent damage to it. Wasn’t the first time that happened, but it was still a beautiful reminder of the excess that permeated their intimate life; their last foray into bed-creaking fun ended up with Iris filling a third of their fridge with her milk, and she was only about twice as big as she was right now! Of course, it wouldn’t do for Tempest to just go headfirst into it like a starved man; being the gentle lover he was, the swan knew he needed to give his lover as much care and attention as he could afford, really make her feel like her whole body was melting from the affection before even trying about anything else. To that end, why not do exactly what he always did? Nothing better for the two of them than spending a couple of hours (or four) slowly massaging Iris’ bust, the smaller male sinking his ends into those milk-stuffed udders like his life depended on it, and yet making sure to always keep his enthusiasm down enough that he’d never actually hurt her; he knew firsthand how sensitive Iris could get when she was full, and wasn’t about to cross any lines. To that end, the two lazed about, Tempest having his back rubbed while he himself worked on his lover’s chest, letting his head fall into the ever-filling cleavage and his hands dance around their contours. Basking in one another’s warmth was almost the best part of it on its own, and it wouldn’t be the first time the two got together to enjoy themselves only to completely lose track of time with the supposed “foreplay”. It never felt like they were missing out on anything; just the simple act of being together was often more than enough to keep them happy and satisfied, with anything else just being an extra laid on top.
Still, even the two lovebirds couldn’t just go forever without taking it up a few notches every once in a while; so, while Iris was more than happy to let her partner fondle her tits for hours on end, feeling them slowly cover more of her chest and spill out onto the bed, she was in no mood to be a passive recipient that day. Just as Tempest was getting comfortable and believing himself to be in control of the situation, the larger swan turned the tables by simply... rolling around, taking her lover with her and pinning him to the bed, causing it to creak ever louder when all of that mass suddenly shifted on top of it. It was easy enough to get the smaller one to just give up resisting altogether; shove some tits on top of his face and not only would his body become hers to control, but his shaft stood at attention faster than any other male Iris had the pleasure of feeling inside herself. This is what made Tempest such a great partner: loving and caring when it was necessary, and an absolute beast when it wasn’t. By the point the two got to it, the larger swan’s breasts had already been filled with enough milk that they refused to move off of Tempest’s face, even when Iris’ lower body made short work of his turgid member. She could hear him mumbling, somewhere deep beneath the covering of heavy breastflesh and smothered by a bosom that was rapidly becoming more milk than anything else. Poor thing couldn't even breathe when he finally came, too lost in a valley of marshmallow that only swelled harder the more his hands explored it. As for Iris, feeling her lover’s warmth inside (and later outside, with some cautious hip movement) of her was the cherry on top of the cake that just made the whole experience that much better. Utterly exhausted from hours of doing nothing, capped by the short-and-sweet workout, the two fell into the same-old rhythm of finding parts of one another to rub and massage, with Tempest predictably focusing on two particular areas of Iris’ body. With the first day out of the way, and their night being spent sleeping a good ten hours despite their constant resting over the day, it was up to the larger swan to make their remaining time there be as worth it as possible. Walking around with a tight slingshot bikini that only accentuated the absurd amounts of milky fat on her chest, letting her wobble and jiggle with each step, was only the first part of it; Iris spent the whole day rubbing up against Tempest, demanding cuddles at every opportunity and very much getting them, her lover eager to help drive her growth to greater heights than ever before. He was clearly transfixed, unable to help himself whenever he saw and heard that pair of milkers walk into the room; the sloshing of their contents was loud enough that it could be heard through the walls... the few times Iris ever left his side. More often than not, they were making a racket right next to him, letting him know just what he was missing every time he had to do something other than squeeze them. It lasted for the whole day and it was maddening; no matter how much energy Tempest put into trying to satisfy her, Iris was insatiable, constantly demanding more from her lover, even when her bust began to strain her skimpiest swimwear and started to cover her knees. Each
colossal milktank protruded so far from either side of her torso that they were just about twice as wide as she was… which only gave Tempest the best bed to rest on when the two finally gave up on their afternoon-long rubdown and went to sleep, once more completely spent despite doing very little for the whole day. The smaller swan fell asleep to the sounds of the ocean in both ears, while Iris struggled to close her eyes thanks to the immense, overwhelming pressure constantly pounding on her chest. It took hours, but she finally gave in, only to wake up before the sun was even up, needing to focus all of her power not to lose herself to the burning desire to pleasure herself, lest she wake up her precious little bird resting on her body-covering bosom. Packing up later in the day was an exercise in careful movement, as any stray bump could very well set Iris off; she was already leaking like a faucet and needing to change the pads on her nipples every ten minutes or so, but was still adamant in not being milked before the trip back to the train station. Both of them knew it was going to be an hour-long walk, at least, before they even reached the town, during which their only company would be themselves and the ever-present sloshing of those monstrously overstuffed tits with each step Iris took. But a single hug and some cooing later, Tempest was convinced that it was, indeed, the best course of action. Fat lot of good it would do to him if he didn’t; he was completely stuck in those breasts, unable to move thanks to Iris squishing them in. The larger swan bid her farewell to the cabin, getting stuck in the door for a couple of seconds before pushing herself out, and then happily bounced down the path to the forest trail. It was going to be a long walk home. |
Office Mutation “Ladies! Ladies! Would you please calm down! I’m sure human resources will be able to address all your concerns!”
“Are you serious Greg? I mean really? Yesterday we were all normal, and now look at us!”
“Um, I’d really rather not comment on that.”
“Damn it! You will. We need to address this and now!”
“I really don’t know what happened!”
“Oh sure, play dumb, you’ve got half of us dropping eggs like chickens, and the other half of us sporting bulging udders. And here, you, the only guy and manager, look just the same. How is it that you aren’t different, Greg?”
“I… I… I really can’t comment.”
“I do, it’s because they put the mutagen in our stuff, not yours. Otherwise, you’d be different too, wouldn’t you, Greg.”
“Um, why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because you’re sweating, Greg.”
“I’m just nervous!”
“About what? Hmm? That bulge in your pants is suspicious. Girls, grab him.”
“Hey, don’t, let me go! Unhand me!” “Let’s just see what you’re hiding from us, Greg.”
“Hey, don’t touch that! What are you doing?!”
“Ah-ha, so maybe you weren’t spared. But I can see why you weren’t complaining, eh, Greg? Girls, get a look at what our manager is packing in his pants now. Quite impressive, isn’t it?”
“Ooh!”
“I want it!”
“Hey, that’s sexual harassment! Unngh!”
“Greg, you’ve got a twenty-inch horse cock, and you’re telling me that with a room full of horny women who suddenly have cow-sized sopping cunts ready for action, you wouldn’t be willing to put it to some good use? For, hmm, morale purposes?”
“Um, uh. But some of you are married.”
“Our husbands are a bit undersized for our needs, Greg, and we do have needs. We might even be a little less upset with you if you take care of them. Don’t you think that’s worth it? It’s not like you have to do much, just a little service around the office. Our husbands don’t even have to know.”
“Yes!”
“Oh, do me first!”
“Please!”
“I want a turn!” “Well, Greg, what do you say. Do you fuck us? Or do we take this to human resources and file the lawsuit?”
“Is that all you want?”
“No, that’s just for starters. We want to be fairly compensated for this unwarranted mutation. But, a couple milking machines, some cushions for those ladies who are laying eggs, and some udder balm would go a long way in appeasing us. Now, what do you say?”
“I think I can get you those things!”
“And the cock? We want that, too, Greg.”
“Yes, I think that is… unnghh… reasonable. This would be a lot easier if you’d stop stroking my cock.”
“I don’t think I want to do that. Now that’s settled, I hope your stamina holds, because there are a lot of women to service and we all expect a turn. Ladies, draw straws, and see who gets our new stud first!” |
Maybe breaking into an ancient temple with several glyphs and wards literally burned into the outside wall wasn’t the best of ideas, but really, how was he to know that magic was actually real? The worst he could imagine was that it was filled with poisonous snakes or maybe got flooded at some point and the waters were themselves flooded with leeches; at no point could Josh have ever predicted that he’d be on the receiving end of a centuries-old curse-slash-blessing, nor that such things even existed to begin with!
It began innocently enough, with him breaking through what he assumed was a side entrance as marked on his map, then making his way through the complex, labyrinthine series of corridors leading further and further into what he could only hope was the center of the temple itself; seeing as most of it was buried underneath several dozen meters of rock and dirt and had hadn’t been entered ever since it was initially sealed by European settlers hundreds of years prior, the one thing he could rely on was his own navigational sense and spatial self-awareness, because no map was going to help him there.
The atmosphere within the temple was oppressive, almost supernaturally so, as if he was being watched by whatever spirits had been buried along with their place of worship; engravings and wall paintings glinted under the illumination of his flashlight, appearing as fresh as the day they were first laid, giving the whole place a regal, timeless look that definitely set off some alarm bells in Josh’s head. Surely, if the place had been abandoned, then pictures should be faded and the walls should be crumbling, not the exact opposite, and surely, if he was the first person to ever dare to step inside while all other entrances were still blocked, then there was no one there with him… and yet, the temple looked pristine, and the presences bearing down on him were absolutely getting heavier and heavier the more he walked, which the explorer chose to interpret as him getting closer to the center of the temple itself. His suspicions would be confirmed after what felt like hours of walking through corridors that looked as if they were getting tighter the longer he spent in them, when he emerged into what had to be the central chamber.
It was hard to truly comprehend how lavishly decorated it must be, owing to his singular light source, and even picking up and lighting his bigger lantern only revealed a fraction of the frankly absurd quantities of gold that lined every single surface. The cultural value of it was about as, if not even more important though, with ancient, half-forgotten alphabets and histories on full display, lovingly rendered by artists whose lineages had long since died out; and there, in the very middle of it, on a small plinth placed upon an elevated dais, was an idol. It was tiny, so much so that he could easily pick it up in a single hand, and yet its solid gold composition made it significantly heavier than its diminutive size might first imply. It was an intricate replica of an elephant, yet not one like Josh had ever seen before; this one appeared to be a hybrid, a cross between a forest elephant and a human, with the upper half belonging to the former and the lower half to the latter… not to mention a few extra bits that he only noticed upon closer inspection.
It was clearly a virility idol of some sort, given what else the sculptor decided to include, though not one Josh had ever heard about; as far as he knew, the local cultures never had any elephant fertility god, nor even an elephant god at all, turning the idol’s presence into one big question mark that he had no frame of reference for. Thankfully, such considerations would quickly be rendered moot after just a few seconds of him inspecting the tiny statue, when its weight suddenly began to increase at such a fast pace that the tomb-diver instinctively jumped back before dropping it on the ground, lest it smash his foot when it inevitably fell down; instead, it ended up landing on the gold-coated floor, shattering into a dozen different pieces that all scattered in different directions, scraping gently against the floor as they slowed down and eventually halted. It was over so quickly that Josh didn’t even have time to realize that he had just destroyed a priceless artifact, and given what happened immediately afterwards, considerations for the loss of priceless cultural history would have to be left for later, because clearly he hadn’t just broken a statue, he’d unleashed something in the process.
The powers that be gripped him the moment the final pieces of the golden elephant idol stopped moving, the very presences that had been hounding him from the moment he walked into the temple using this opportunity to do something to the intruder. At first, panic filled him, with Josh earnestly believing that he was about to be assaulted by some kind of supernatural deadly force; perhaps the idol had a curse placed on it, and him breaking it meant that he was now going to suffer a horrible death at the hands of its guardian spirits… or worse, he’d be marked for death and then released onto the world, to wait for his inevitable demise to come claim him when he least expected it!
The power flowing through him certainly seemed aggressive enough, to the point where he found himself grunting in pain as what felt like semi-physical bodies pierced through his own, forcing him to flinch and jerk in different directions; were those ghosts, slamming into him with whatever solidity they still had? Was he a puppet to their strings now, forced to do whatever they so desired without a say in the matter? Because if that was the case… it didn’t feel as bad as he thought he would. In fact, the longer it went on, the less painful it became, to the point where some parts of him began to send signals that let him know he was actually enjoying it to some degree, though whether or not it was actually true or just a result of his brain trying to shield itself, Josh didn’t know; then again, whatever doubts he might’ve had were once again handily waved away by virtue of what those spirits were doing to his body, because it quickly became evident that whatever they had in mind, they certainly didn’t expect him to break an idol like that and not repay it in some way, shape or form.
Specifically, his shape or form. He never expected such a thing to be possible, never having believed in the existence of magic and curses until that exact moment, but as soon as he looked down and saw his skin begin to gray out and thicken, not unlike that of an elephant’s, then he knew what was going to happen; he even smiled, a significant part of himself fully and earnestly thinking that this was just an hallucination brought about by a lack of oxygen and that he’d eventually come back to reality and find himself in a corner somewhere. He held onto this strange belief even when the rest of him began to warp and change to better fit his new aesthetic, even when his form started to fatten up and grow weightier in a way that honestly couldn’t possibly be a hallucination. And honestly… he didn’t want it to be.
Maybe it was the lack of oxygen, or most likely the spirits screwing with his perception of reality, but there was something about the transformation that left him feeling like it wasn’t all that bad, all things considered; clearly, if the idol was powerful enough to both keep the temple in the pristine state that it was in and turn him into a replica of itself after being broken, then either it had to be incredibly powerful, the deity it represented must be one of a higher order of gods, or… perhaps both. Even if only one of those things were true, it still signalled a transition into something that had to be better than the scrawny beanpole that he had been most of his life, a thought that kept growing stronger the longer the transformation continued and the bigger Josh felt himself getting.
The weight wasn’t the only thing going up either, as his eyes beginning to move upwards betrayed how his form was growing taller as well, combining to leave him feeling the most powerful he’d ever had in his entire life, like he could take a step and utterly crush anything underfoot with the strength of an actual elephant. Not just that, but as soon as he heard his pants tearing open by the seams, quickly followed by his package flopping out and heavily slapping against the inside of his thighs, the explorer realized that he wasn’t just being transformed into an elephant hybrid: he was being granted at least some of the deity’s own power, and in their field of influence as well if all of that pressure was anything to go by!
It felt like those times where he’d foolishly held back from experiencing release, or the many occasions where he simply got so involved in his work that he forgot to relieve himself until he accidentally ended up blueballed through no fault of his own, except… more. Not just stronger, but somehow more, experienced in a way that wasn’t normal or expected, like the sense of fullness wasn’t merely there because he had been deprived, but because his nuts had become too productive for their own good, yearning to have their dense and thick filling shared with the world, and preferably a few welcome lovers as well.
But as the transformation progressed and his body became ever larger, as Josh felt himself grow big and heavyset, even as his head grew dangerously close to what he assumed to be ceiling up above, this sensation never really went away; if anything, the more he grew, the more pent-up he ended up being, prompting him to bring both hands down to his rod for the first time during the whole process in a desperate bid to achieve some semblance of release and relief. It was only then that he regretted having kept his eyes either closed or stuck staring upwards, because clearly he’d been missing on the greatest transformation of all, as well as the explanation for why he felt so damned stuffed despite already having fired off a few loads.
His cock was long, and not just in the sense that it was a good few feet in sheer length. Rather, it seemed to have adopted a few characteristics from his elephant-like self, especially from that trunk he now had dangling from where his nose used to be; rather than just being a hard, vein-covered rod, his shaft had turned into something of a prehensile limb, not unlike the trunk itself, eminently controllable despite being very clearly rock solid and in intense need of someone to release into. The discrepancy between these states struck Josh as odd at first, but a second glance downwards and a chance movement of the hands later, and he came to understand why it was the way that it was, because it wasn’t cum he was keeping inside of his balls anymore… or, at least, not the way he used to, and certainly not just his swimmers.
Their surface had become lumpy, for lack of a better word, but rather than the bumps being a part of his sack’s skin, they moved about and changed their shape if he pushed them in with his fingers; it took a bit before he realized that those were eggs he was now keeping inside of his nuts, and considering how those things hung below the knee on his enormous frame, there must be dozens, if not hundreds of ovals inside of him, waiting to be deposited in whatever lover was insane enough to willingly throw themselves into his arms. That, on itself, handily explained why his cock was as bendy and malleable as it was; after all, it was a lot easier to deposit eggs with something that had a little bit of “give” to it rather than a solid rod… plus, it probably played into a lot of hidden kinks that most people never thought to admit to having, including himself; maybe that’s why he was chosen to bear the mantle of the fertility god?
… yes, he liked that. He liked that idea, that he wasn’t simply being “cursed” by the idol; how could he be, when clearly this new body of his was so much better than his old one? No longer was he just a human, no longer did he reside entirely within a frail, mortal shell, he was something better now, more than just a being, but the very manifestation of a concept made flesh! Over fifteen feet tall, heavy as the animal he was supposed to represent, and apparently decked out in a whole lot of jewelry that he didn’t remember putting on, probably a result of the transformation giving him the regalia that the god used to be… no, that he used to be depicted with, for this was not just some unknown deity that history had forgotten, it was him!
He alone now carried the legacy of this ancient divinity, even if it was embodied in a way that left him feeling more aroused than anything else; it was most likely by design, since, well, how much easier would it be to spread the joys of fertility and virility if he was already horny by default at every single second of his life? In fact, the more he looked at himself, the more Josh realized that the new body he was given was built to breed, and in far more ways than just being hung: his belly, too, was beginning to fill up with something, giving him an even pudgier look than the one he already sported; a quick brush with one hand revealed that it, too, was starting to develop bumps of its own, countless eggs multiplying within him and just waiting to be brought into the outside world… or placed into someone, to help fertilize even more clutches, endless more young to perpetuate his progeny.
Perhaps it was the spiritual energy speaking, but the giant couldn’t help but feel that this was something that had to be shared with the world, a gift that everyone needed to be made privy to, not just himself in that resplendent temple; the idol had been kept safe for all those centuries precisely so someone like him could break it, unleashing the deity held within, so that it may bring about a new golden age, one with himself at the helm!
He smiled.
He was going to get busy. |
Many times before, when he was still firmly in the group of people that cared about what others thought about him, Patrick had asked his friends what they thought about saline infusions. Their reactions and opinions varied wildly depending on where the substance was supposed to go, giving the lynx plenty of surprises over the years; many of his friends were surprisingly fine with the idea of him suddenly implanting expander shells underneath his pecs in order to give himself a pair of plastic tits, and even more were positively giddy at the notion he might give his ass a boost. But none of them, absolutely none, would even remotely consider what he actually had in mind.
To be fair, it wasn’t even risky so much as it was outright dangerous and borderline insane; even if it was meant to be temporary, the health risks associated with doing it at the kind of scale he was thinking of were immense, to put it lightly. And yet Pat wasn’t at all deterred from the thought, and not once came to think that maybe he should set it aside; him asking others what their thoughts on the matter happened to be was his way of rationalizing away what he truly wanted, hiding it beneath a thin layer of pretend civility and social contract. As time went on and his interests grew wilder however, it also became increasingly harder for him to deny that saline infusions to his more private areas were something he not only wanted to experiment with, he needed to experiment with; it was no longer a life choice, but something that had to happen, most likely thanks to all the effort put behind repressing those very thoughts.
He went through countless doctors who were at first open to the idea, but inevitably turned him down when he revealed how far he wanted to take it. All of them were right in pointing out that what Patrick was asking for was so unbelievably unsafe that they’d lose their license even if nothing went wrong, forcing him to go through the list of potential helpers until eventually settling for someone that even he thought was too shady to be trusted. Point of order, this man didn’t even perform the procedure himself, instead selling Pat all the materials he needed along with a flimsy instruction booklet entitled “Recreational Infusions Enthusiast”, a publication the lynx doubted truly existed. Cost him a pretty penny too, which is why the vendor’s sudden disappearance when he went back to return everything in a moment of weakness and regret stung all that much harder.
Now stuck with a bunch of saline bags and suspiciously-clean medical equipment, it still took Patrick several days before he brought himself to do what had to be done. He couldn’t rely on anyone to come help him; the second he called on any of his friends, they’d just do the sane thing and try to talk him out of it. Thus, it took a significant amount of willpower to go through everything the number of times needed to make sure he knew how to perform the procedure with his eyes closed, and even then he still re-reread everything just to be absolutely, unquestionably certain. This wasn’t something to be taken lightly, as any misstep could mean serious damage to his body, making his constant nervousness itself a source of further mental stress; he would’ve assumed he’d be a lot more comfortable with it all than he truly was.
Still, he powered through it, swallowing his fears and focusing purely on doing what the manual told him to do. Sterilize the equipment, triple-check a whole number of minute things, quadruple-check the saline itself to make sure there were no outward signs of contamination. Everything was reduced to a series of steps, an algorithm that allowed him to take his mind away from what he was doing so he could focus entirely on the how; the reality of the situation only hit him once he had to strip down and apply the needles to his nethers, and even then he somehow managed to wrench his mind away from the meaning of it and back onto the mechanical act itself. Some spray applied to the affected areas, a few seconds of waiting for it to take effect, and soon enough he had every line he needed firmly in place; with his butt firmly on the chair and every other apparatus prepared around him, all it took was for him to connect everything and then open the bags, allowing the saline to start flowing into him.
Things… didn’t happen at first. Being far too familiar with the sort of high-concept pornographic material that involved the same kind of procedure he subjected himself to, Patrick had honestly hoped that the results might be immediate, perhaps even accompanied by non-insignificant amounts of creaking and groaning as his body struggled to deal with the sudden influx of fluids. As it stood… none of the sort. It was genuinely underwhelming, to say the least, and he only really kept going because he noticed a slight swelling and reddening of his nuts and shaft, indicating that the infusion was working, if incredibly slowly. Impatience took over from fear, leaving him fidgety and unable to wait, soon progressing into out-and-out anxiety; why was it taking so long? Maybe, he thought to himself, he could afford to grab the bags and start squeezing them, forcing the saline to be pumped into him; the lynx only barely managed to hold himself from doing something as stupid as that in the last moment, fingertips already touching the plastic and mind dead-set on trying that absolute idiocy.
“Patience. Patience, Pat,” he spoke aloud, “you’ve waited this long, you can wait for another hour if you need to. There’s no need to rush it.”
There was a need to rush it, he knew there was. Now that everything was in place, making him wait even longer felt like some kind of joke!
“Ok, no, it’s ok,” he kept on reassuring himself, “just put your hand on your knees and wait. It’ll be fine. You don’t need to rush it.”
Easier said than done, he immediately thought to himself afterwards, as his hands proceeded to ignore his own advice and head straight for his junk. There, at least, he found that his decisions had borne some fruit, seeing as he at least felt like he was getting bloated. It still wasn’t the kind of all-encompassing feeling of near-bursting that he craved, the one he imagined would make him feel all sorts of things he never thought possible… but it was a start. Besides, there were several more bags of saline right next to him, neatly stacked on top of a table he dragged to his side, so any matter of supply was automatically ruled out; assuming he could keep his mind in one peace and keep the saline flowing, he would eventually reach a point where he could no longer take anymore. And as soon as he did, as soon as he felt his body hit that invisible threshold, he could proceed to ignore it and keep going; stretching himself far past his limits and straight into dangerous territory, just so he could feel what it was like to be unnaturally big. This was his motivation, this was his goal, and he’d be damned if he was going to stop now that he was so close to it.
He kept himself silent in order to enjoy the process, only succeeding in drawing attention to the clock somewhere behind him. The saline itself made no noise, the dripping and sloshing of it too low for him to hear it, leaving his mind to focus entirely on the seconds literally ticking by as he waited for something exciting to happen. The need for maintenance arrived sooner than that did, with Patrick only realizing the bag he was draining was empty after a few minutes of not feeling any tighter; this was fine, he thought to himself, it was normal to have to change saline bags, that was why he brought them over to that table and set them out neatly in order of smallest to largest. It didn’t take much effort, and that in itself was… confusing to him. He had expected things to take a turn for the fantastical almost immediately, so the mundanity of it all, the complete lack of an explosive payoff, made the experience feel immense underwhelming. He could only hope that everything would turn on its head and give him what he wanted sooner rather than later, because otherwise he was probably going to break a few things and feel really bad about himself afterwards.
Even so, he couldn’t just stop. With the rhythmic noises of the clock being the only thing in his mind, all the lynx could do was sit there and slowly watch as his package reddened and swelled up, just enough to confirm that it was indeed happening, but nowhere close to what he wanted. He was fidgety, wanting to tap his feet but knowing that doing so would leave him feeling sore thanks to all the weight; he couldn’t deny he did feel significantly girthier down there, even if it wasn’t to the point he wanted to, making it at least some consolation. Another bag went down, a replacement placed, and before he knew it, Pat was already doing that again, and again, and again, the empty, crumpled plastic thrown into a growing pile behind his chair. The clock kept making its noises, he kept replacing the source of saline, and his mind fell into a sort of fugue state; there was nothing else to do but go forward, to continue to press on regardless of how much he felt it wasn’t going to help. After so long, he had to keep going, even if he was convinced the end result would be disappointing. He barely noticed as the pile of bags to his side grew increasingly tinier, but there was one thing that was sure to tune him right back into reality: another noise.
It was faint at first, barely audible, and even after Pat thought he heard it his ears still insisted on keeping him out of the loop until they could confirm it was truly there. How long had it been? An hour? Three? It was hard to tell given that it was the middle of day, but he felt like he’d been sitting there for too long; which is why he jumped at the slightest opportunity to break the monotony once he finally heard his body creak. He could barely believe it; after so many years, after so many wasted visits to clinics that refused to cater to his needs, and now finally after who knows how many hours hooked up to several saline bags’ worth of disappointment, he finally heard it: his body, reaching its limits, straining at the seams and being loud enough in doing so that he could hear it. His body, warning him that he was going to do something very stupid, letting him know in no uncertain terms that he should turn back immediately and never try that again.
He looked aside, seeing several bags still there, waiting to be dripped into his body. He looked down, to a shaft that was by that point nearly a foot and a half in length and a pair of nuts that rivalled it in size. The lynx closed his eyes, allowing his mind to take in what he was feeling and hearing: pressure, uncomfortably high pressure, fullness, a sense that he was close to breaking something. In the air, trembling, floating, the sounds of groaning as his skin was made to expand, creaking as it failed to do so satisfactorily. A wide, toothy grin spread on his face, lips parting to give his tongue something to lick while his mind raced with the possibilities.
Patrick’s eyes shot back open, and now there was no turning back. Having confirmed that his body could technically do what he wanted it to, it was only a matter of time before he completely lost control and threw himself into the maws of his own destruction. There would be no waiting for the dripping, only two hands grabbing the saline bag and squeezing it as hard as they could without making it rupture, forcing as much of its delicious contents into the several tubes before it was left empty. Crumple it up, throw it away, grab the next one over, repeat. Repeat until the only bags left were the biggest ones, deliberately left for last so he could enjoy himself, feel his junk grow to sizes and weights that were once the exclusive purview of his fantasies and wet dreams. Pat saw himself grow faster than ever before, his deliberate attempts at speeding the process along working surprisingly well, biology be damned; the creaking became worse and worse as it went on, growing so loud that it managed to worry the lynx just the tiniest bit… before he convinced himself that everything was fine and he could just keep going.
Two feet were reached before he even knew it, then two and a half followed by three. He was turgid, full mast, and yet he didn’t feel like it; most likely it was all the saline simulating an erection, because as far as the lynx cared, he still had plenty to go before he was anywhere close to fully aroused. Down below, those nuts dangling over the edge of the chair were starting to weigh down so much that Pat felt the need to lean forward just so he could have them anchored on the ground, a thought that by itself left his cheeks so red that he began wondering if that size of his wasn’t actually his largest one. The noises were getting unbearable, sounding more like plastic being rubbed against itself (appropriately enough) rather than anything organic, but there were still bags to go. There was still saline to be pumped into him, even if he could feel his body stretching beyond its own capacity. He was going to burst, he knew it, but he didn’t care; only size mattered, only size was important, and now that he had it, he wouldn’t let go.
He held onto this notion for what felt like an eternity, forever standing on the brink of oblivion but never quite taking the extra step needed to plunge into it. Again and again he sunk his fingers into those bags, until in the end, with a final gurgle, the last remaining one was emptied out and thrown behind him, Patrick leaning back on the chair with his chest heaving with every breath. The room was filled with the low groaning of a tree trunk being bent in the wind, a creaking that couldn’t be described, all coming from that colossal package he was carrying between his legs. Five feet of cock. An equal diameter for each nut somehow… and yet he wanted more.
He needed more.
He needed it. |
When he was informed that the establishment catered almost exclusively to a particular kind of clientele, Kelby wasn’t expecting them all to be extremely hung horses with a penchant for grabbing parts of him that left his cheeks feeling like they were on fire. Granted, he was told upfront that the job would be very physical in nature, and that he should expect the guests and customers both to get very handsy, but somehow the corgi had managed to convince himself that he’d be seeing some variety, and that surely the fact that, on coming to the interview, the whole place being filled with the same people was certainly just a one-off thing.
Sure enough though, when he showed up for the first night working as a waiter in what had been deemed the most “up and coming club” in town (about the fifth or so place to be given that accolade in the past couple months alone), what he saw left him feeling… conflicted. On the one hand, he didn’t exactly relish the idea of having to go through an entire shift dealing with potential drunkards and other such individuals who understood more of fine drinks than they did of personal spaces; on the other, they were all, to a man, extremely large equines with packages big enough that even the most flaccid among them still stretched out their pants far enough that Kelby could clearly see the outline of their cock, with the biggest of the bunch being so far down the scale that their tips were nearing their ankles, something that would’ve looked comical if not for the fact that it played right into the corgi’s personal fantasies.
It was hard for him not to constantly wonder what it would feel like to be stretched out around one of those shafts, to have them force their way down his throat or up his tailhole, leaving behind naught but a broken mind and a constant, unending stream of whining moans as he begged for more, battered and broken upon the floor. ‘Twas a complicated state of affairs, especially since he wasn’t technically permitted to reply in kind to any advances, or even so much as provide a touch of his own; Kelby had been hired as a waiter, not a personal attendant, and his job was therefore to be touched, but not to touch himself, an interest flip on how those things had a tendency to operate in other, more refined establishments.
Nevertheless, the canine went into the changing room convinced that he was going to go through the night without any major concerns, even if it meant he had to bite his own tongue whenever the desire to scream back an obscenity followed by a demand for rutting got too high; he was entirely incorrect in that assumption, of course, but he couldn’t possibly be blamed for not knowing it, especially when, at least at first, things went perfectly… well, “normally” wasn’t exactly a word that could be used to describe a club like that, but as close to that as possible.
The music was loud, the atmosphere vibrant and intense, the smell of expensive cigarette smoke and alcohol mixed together with the slightest twinge of a few somethings of more dubious legality; no questions would be asked, especially not of the richer patrons without which the establishment wouldn’t exist at all. Kelby was shocked to see faces he recognized from the local newspapers, mostly high-ranking appointees from the mayor’s office, and even one of the state governor’s cabinet members; the corgi knew better than to try and serve them though, especially since they weren’t surrounded by a small army of lustful twenty-somethings kept around for pleasure and decoration like some of the other private tables weres. No, there were a lot of backroom negotiations taking place in those safe havens, where none would dare to eavesdrop for fear of waking up in a ditch in the morning… or not waking up at all.
Besides, there was a whole club for him to play boytoy to, one filled with eager patrons who all wanted a look and a squeeze of the “fresh meat” walking around in an incredibly, some might say scandalously revealing outfit. It was only after this went on for a couple of hours that Kelby began to realize that things might not necessarily stop at ogling or the occasional groping; he was being asked to sit still on someone’s lap for longer periods of time, made to wait in front of whole groups as they very clearly stroked themselves, even ordered to bend over and show off that “cute lil’ butt” of his, a wording that belied the frankly absurd lecherousness that always came packaged with it.
By the time the corgi had come to realize what was going on, he was already being pressed against the chest of a horse that was about one and a half times his size, kept from moving by way of two immensely strong hands holding his sides and pulling him closer and closer still into a warm embrace; he felt as if he was sinking into the man’s chest, swallowed up by the heat coming off of it, which wasn’t at all helped by the colossal amount of cock that the horse was blessed with. It wasn’t technically on full display, but given how it stretched their pants out and was very clearly spurting with precum, it might as well be; and with Kelby’s current patron telling him to give it a good rubdown, it was only a matter of time before things went down the drain. Or up to the heavens above, depending on one’s perspective.
Definitely the latter when it came to the corgi himself, doubly so once he noticed what was happening to the customers’s nuts right underneath him; the dog had gotten used to the idea that the bar’s patrons were just going to be utterly massive by default, but he had never dared to think that they might be blessed with the correct genes to be capable of such high levels of growth. One moment, the horse’s package was merely gigantic, rock-solid and clearly oversized even for their body, and in the next, Kelby was feeling two very large, very spherical forms pushing up into him from beneath, along with the sounds of churning liquids and what was, as far as he could tell, cloth being ripped open.
A heartbeat began sounding, louder and louder with each thump, and within an instant the corgi realized that what he was hearing was actually the very same cock he’d been servicing just moments prior; it was throbbing and pulsating visibly, enough to leave gashes and tears in the equine’s pants, and each time it “settled”, it was left slightly bigger than before… just like the two nuts below it. No sooner had the canine made this observation than he was suddenly bent over the table closest to him, all wind knocked out of his sails as he was effortlessly placed at the mercy of several large, burly horses that were all eagerly taking their pants off and getting up to see who would go first.
For Kelby, who hadn’t even had the time to react to being manhandled in such a fashion, nor to process the uncomfortable realization that he couldn’t actually move thanks to his arms being restrained behind him, this should have come as a terrifying sight… but instead, he was left with a wide, broken smile on his lips, as the part of him that so eagerly fantasized over this exact scenario finally took center stage. He was about to be in the middle of a gangbang by a bunch of well-endowed males too big to fit inside him; he literally could not ask for anything better.
Nor would he be capable of, not when the entire group he had just been servicing decided to descend upon him with the sort of enthusiasm that only large quantities of alcohol and several hours’ worth of idle chatter could provide. They were clumsy, brutish even, to the point where Kelby even dared to turn around and try to remind them that they were supposed to be putting their cocks in him instead of on him, at least until he had a meaty one slap him across the face to shut up him; where before he would’ve taken offense, maybe even stormed off, this one thing was enough to send him over the moon, eyes rolling upwards into his skull as the corgi breathed in the warm, musky scent of that colossal, girthy shaft… one that, after smashing into the side of his head, didn’t go too far away.
All he had to do was open his mouth and let the rest sort itself out, and within moments his lips would be getting stretched out so hard that he felt tears rolling down his eyes thanks to the strain, doubly so once that horse’s flared tip smacked against the back of his throat and then kept going; whoever was doing this to him was taking their sweet time bottoming out, slowly pushing their full length into the canine’s warm, inviting throat at about the same time as someone else was doing much the same with his tailhole. Speared on both ends, filled to capacity and beyond, and the only thing he could think to do was moan and beg for more… so he did.
No point pretending that he didn’t want it when he so desperately did, doubly so given that there were a lot of hunky guys around him who would certainly want their own turn at it, so why not make it clear that he was theirs to play around with? It certainly seemed to work in the short-term, given that the two cocks shoved into his body, stretching it out so much that he was openly crying reflexively at that point, began to pound into him in earnest, pistoning mercilessly with such strength that Kelby could feel the front of his body rubbing against the entirety of the table that he was laid on; he was quite thankful that it was made out of smooth, polished glass, because the last thing he wanted was splinters all over his chest.
From there, things began to take a turn for the hazy, as the corgi’s brain lacked the capacity to process everything it was being fed and maintain a functioning timeline of events at the same time; seeing as Kelby himself had surrendered to the more pleasurable side of things, there was thus no real reason for his sentient self to be kept online when mere consciousness was enough. No point keeping the unnecessary processes afloat when the only things needed were the pleasure centers and serotonin receptors, both of which were about to receive a pounding almost as strong as the rest of the dog’s body; one that, judging from the way the horses around Kelby were all growing in the process of getting some relief, was only going to get worse over time.
Mayhaps the corgi should’ve read the fine print, or considered asking some of the people who also worked there for what sort of customers they were expected to have, as at least then he would’ve pretended to try and avoid this very situation for a few minutes longer before eventually sitting on someone’s growth-happy lap; as it stood though, he was very much at the mercy of a small handful of individuals who, for each thrust, for each time they slammed into the much-smaller cockholster they were playing with, only got bigger. Rather than obeying any kind of sensible logic, their bodies instead filled up whenever a load of precum spurted into Kelby’s insides (or out of, given the strength with which it was pumped into him), leaving every equine with a pair of breeder’s balls that became heavier, wider, and reached closer to the ground with every second they spent trying to dump their full load into that tight corgi boytoy that had so happily thrown himself at them. With this, of course, came extra size to their cocks as well, though never as much as the two cumtanks underneath; after all, they still had to fit in order to deliver their final payload.
That said, there was no limit to just how many of them could do such a thing, especially not when there was a whole club full of people who were more than eager to finally be able to test the new hire’s stretchiness; word had been spread by the more experienced waiters (and the owner, for good measure) that there was a new face in the roster, and the predictable end result of this, the entire clientele turning their heads towards the commotion near one of the larger tables, very quickly gave way to the frankly terrifying sight of a few dozen incredibly burly horses all getting up at the same time and unbuckling their belts.
In all fairness to them, the process itself was incredibly organized, if only because Kelby had but two holes which they could fill; if they wanted to feel what it was like to turn that corgi into a cum blimp, they were just going to have to wait their turn, which as far as any of them cared, was a perfectly acceptable trade-off. None of the establishment’s staff even tried to stop this from happening; hell, if not for the fact that they were under strict orders not to interfere, some of them might’ve joined the queue as well, wanting to see what it would feel like to be with the big boys for once.
As for the corgi himself, there was mercifully very little of him left in there at all, with most of his useless conscious processes relegated to backburner in the back of their head, leaving only the ability to feel, only feel, and moan just loudly enough that it could be heard over the muffling of countless successive cocks being shoved down his throat. Each one came with its own meal: gallons upon gallons of thick, steaming-hot cum being poured into him as if he were being filled by two hoses on opposite ends, leaving him both full, stuffed, and obscenely bloated beyond all reasonable measure. It would be disingenuous to claim that what he felt was even a fraction of the full experience; if anything, most of what his brain should be processing went straight into an ever-increasing backlog, ensuring that he would be wracked by pleasure for who knew how many hours past the last load dumped into him.
Thankfully, there would be plenty of time for him to go through this at his own leisure, seeing as how he hadn’t even cleared a tenth of his suitors and he had already broken through the glass table… and was somehow further up than he used to be, courtesy of a cum-stuffed gut that only grew larger with each high-speed impact of a cock ramming into his face or ass.
It was going to be a long night. |
Control
_Girl. Girl. Wake up!_ _Lazy! Sleeps all the time! Eat, Center! Food! Eat! Open mouth._ Center groaned and opened her eyes, which never did her much good at all. Since her change she couldn't see much more then vague shapes if they were right in front of her face, and then if it was light or dark out. She could never sleep for more then an hour or two at a time without her master wanting something.
"But, I'm not hungry." Center whispered; it was the loudest noise she was capable of; her vocal chords were just about removed entirely in her change. _Open. Food for Center to eat._ _Too big for us, Center has to eat it._ Center groaned, they must've caught something big. Well, catch wasn't the right word. She pulled herself up from the ground, working the kinks out of her lithe body.
"I don't want to eat it, I'm full." _Liar. Center is not full!_ _Center refuses to eat it because she thinks it's cute._ It was one of her rabbits, the ones she had been breeding larger then usual, just for fun. Before her change that is. "I don't want to eat it. Let it go." _Nope. Nope. Rabbits for eating._ _Center eats rabbit, or we wake up Five!_
Center didn't like that at all. "Please, don't make me eat it." Tears started to pour from her nearly blind eyes; she loved her rabbits. She didn't want to eat one of her pets. Center felt a sharp smack on the end of her serpentine face. _Eat!_ _Need food, make eggs._ Center dropped back to the ground and curled her tail around herself. They wanted her to lay eggs again.
A sharp pain appeared suddenly on the back of her neck. _Next time twice as bad!_ _Next time, more then bite!_ Her master was serious, and wouldn't let up until she gave in. They could do worse things to her then hit and bite her. Without a word she opened her jaws, and began the long process of taking the still living creature down her throat and into her belly.
_Good girl._ _Very good._ She felt her tears being licked away by a pair of heavy forked tongues. She shuddered; she hated snakes. She pulled her serpentine body up off the ground, tilting her head back, to allow gravity to aid in getting the warm meal into her belly. Their belly really. She wondered what horrible thing she'd done to deserve this form. Center had hated snakes all her life, and now she was essentially an entire nest of them.
Other then herself, there were an additional nine living creatures that were part of her body. She could feel her entire body, but there were parts of it she had no control over at all. The nine snakes didn't think of themselves as nine, they though of themselves as four. Master was the two to the immediate left and right of her head; they were the only ones that could talk, if they wanted to. Usually they just commanded her telepathically. The serpents that comprised Master were about four feet in length, half again the size that her arms had been. That was what the originally were.
Hunter was bigger, lower on the body, about on level with the upper pair of her four breasts. Center had no idea why she had those still, as just about the rest of her body was reptilian. The demon had probably thought they made her look cute and fuckable. Both of the Hunter snakes were about six feet long, and were venomous. Rather than kill, their venom paralyzed. If they could swallow Center wouldn't have to be woken up when something large was caught. But Hunter's throats didn't link up with the shared stomach of their body. In addition to their venom, they had another prey catching form. Spitting. They could spit a stream of sticky liquid quite a ways. Center didn't know how far, she couldn't see, and she never felt like asking Master. It was far enough though. They had a store of enough of it inside to cover a human. Or so Master has told her.
Center lacked hair; her once long flowing mane of it had been replaced with a number of smaller serpents, four to be exactly, and six tentacles. The four snakes on her head, two on the left, two on the right, were known collectively as "Little One," who wasn't very talkative to Master. Mostly all they did was eat small things, mice, bugs and birds, anything they could fit down their smaller gullets. They weren't very big, at least compared to the other five snakes, about the size of a common rattlesnake. The front two were about three feet in length, the back closer to six. There was a tentacle before and after each.
Center's head also sport numerous other serpentine appendages, but they didn't move. She supposed it looked like she had a set of nightmarish looking dreadlocks. She had control of two tentacles, which were thankfully the ones she actually liked. The other four were controlled by Little One, and they tended to stray were they weren't wanted. Center didn't like them at all, they were cock tipped.
The ninth snake was the only one that slept more then Center, for which she was grateful. Five, like Center, was blind. Except he had no eyes at all. Or a mouth. There wasn't very much that was snakelike about him except his physical construction, he lacked scales as well. Center hated him and his one track mind. Five was their cock.
Five, at full length, was about four feet long, and looked sort of like a horse cock. A dark coloured semi-sheath along the first foot and a half of length, followed by two and a half feet of slick, writhing snake-cock. Like the reptile that they were, Five spent most of his time inside their body. There was no outward sign that Center and the rest were a hermaphrodite, and Center was grateful for that. Considering most of the time they were slithering on their belly, any outward male genital features would be uncomfortable and painful.
They had other genitals however. Five was just another serpent that the demon had probably tacked on for fun, and hir own twisted pleasures. Just below Five were their 'real' cocks. Two of them, like a true serpent. They started from the same place above Center's vaginal opening and pointed slightly toward either side. Center didn't think of them as a part of herself, Little One usually was the one who used them.
Below that was Center's portion of the genitalia, concealed in the folds of scaly skin that kept that portion of her body from getting dirty, was her pussy. It served no biological function, since that part of her body had been given over mostly to storing Five. Their real pussy was down by the end of Center's tail, and that one worked. Worked as in produced eggs, she'd laid three a few months after her change. As far as she could tell, 'her' pussy was basically for Five to fuck.
Center hated that, every time it happened she was essentially being raped by her own body. She had no idea why she felt like that; she didn't care at all when she was made to fuck herself with their real cunt. As for Center, Center wasn't her name; it was what Master called her, mainly because she was the middle. She was in charge of locomotion, and she was the only one that could move their thirty-foot long slimy body.
She didn't like the slime very much either. It seemed that just about every exposed inch of her scale-covered skin produced a lubricating slime. It never seemed to dry out. The grove where Center lived was absolutely saturated with the stuff. Animals seemed to love the slightly sweet taste, it killed insects, and it plants seemed to thrive on the stuff. The berry bush that Center had planted the day of her change had grown extremely large, and was thriving. In the six months since she planted it, it had grown of a size that Center and her parts slithered under its thorny tangles for shelter.
The berries had become ripe not long ago, and they were the size of throwing rocks. Center enjoyed them; the rest of her body loathed them. The rabbit was nearly to their belly now. Center slid her forked tongue out of her mouth and flicked it around, smelling the air. It was going to rain in a little bit. She liked the rain, it felt cool on her skin, and it made her vision clearer. Center supposed the creature she was based on was a water-based snake. There wasn't a body of water around big enough for Center to completely submerge herself in to test that theory. Closest thing was a shallow, muddy creek.
The creek might be deeper further on, but Master didn't like venturing very far away from their nest. Center was glad she had chosen to live in just about the middle of nowhere; there weren't hardly any humans around for her and her body to bother. She shuddered, the venom was wearing off and the rabbit was beginning to squirm. She slid a tentacle tip to her belly, feeling the creature's struggles.
She felt a gentle nuzzling against one of her nipples, then another, and then on all four. Little One wanted to play. "Not now, please?" Center whispered, feeling so tired. She was always tired. She knew Little One was connected to the rest of her more completely then Hunter or Master. While she could feel everything through the whole of their shared body, Master and Hunter could feel next to nothing beyond their own control. Center suspected Master felt nothing at all beyond the stomach, while Hunter could feel the 'feedback' from Five. Little One however seemed to be connected to all of her. She could feel the tiny snakes flinch whenever Master bit her.
Master yawned and decided to nap as well, looping down between her breasts, between her sides and Hunter's coils, crossing over behind her back and then resting between the two coils of Hunter wrapped around her abdomen. Center could feel two cock-tentacles rubbing softly against the sides of her mouth, and two more trying to get her to open herself 'down there.'
Center almost enjoyed Little One's touches. Sometimes, not just during sex either, she felt as if they were caring, almost loving. Sometimes when the rest of her body was sleeping, and she was unable to do anything, she'd just lay there and cry. The way the eight appendages wrapped around her sometimes, it was almost like a hug. Or snake entwined with one of her tentacles, was that meant to as close to holding her hand as Little One could get?
She'd been fighting against the other parts of herself for at least half a year. Center sighed; she didn't know why she struggled anymore. There was nothing in it for her. She couldn't see at all, and would be unable to do anything without Master's help. Resisting wouldn't change her back to the way she was, nothing would. Not even another demon would be able to break what had been done to Center.
Center. She even thought of herself like that now, nothing more then a part of this body she'd become imprisoned in. She slumped to the ground. She was the only part of the whole that resisted, and when she did Little One was hurt as well. She could feel Little One's reflexive urge to strike back whenever she was bitten or head-butted by Master, the sudden tensing of the tiny serpentine bodies, then a forced relaxation. She could feel Little One's touches all over her body. She stopped resisting, opening her mouth and releasing the muscles that held her pussy closed.
"There, I'm yours now. Do whatever the hell you want to me, I don't care." her whisper had a harsh tone to it. Rather then dive right in, the prodding shapes pulled away, settling into their normal positioning at her side, or behind her back. Center heard a sound from far away, something big was moving throw the trail that's been made through the grass.
Center rolled over onto her belly and flicked her tongue out. Scent carries a long way, and Center's serpentine sense of smell caught it easily. She licked her lips hungrily. She knew what the smell wass; she could taste it all over right after her change. The scent made the sleeping portions of herself stir, all of them. Center began to feel incredibly aroused. A moment ago she wasn't at all willing to engage in sex, now she could think of doing nothing else.
Five awoke, remaining inside the body for the time being. Center had a strange sensation in the lower half of her tail, around where her one egg was situated. She headed off in the direction of the scent, that of a female. A human female. Part of her wondered what this sudden lust is from, she'd seen, well smelt, human girls before while in this form, but she'd never had this reaction before.
But she had never wanted to do something with all her parts before. Not really. She thought of the trio of eggs she'd laid three months earlier, how they never hatched, no part of them were sure what they were supposed to do. But now? Now they knew what to do. They knew that they didn't lay their eggs in a nest; they laid them in human females.
Center thought she should be disgusted at that fact. But shi wasn't. Shi, shi'd just thought of hirself as a shi. Was this what shi had been fighting this long? Center had been the connection to all the parts of hir body. And that was exactly what they were, parts of hir body. Not different creatures. They were all hir. They'd always been hir.
Hir change hadn't stopped, but it had stalled. Shi would only be in full control of hir body when shi accepted it. Shi blink hir eyes, all nine pairs. Shi could see again! Shi looked hirself over, shi was beautiful. Orange and black mostly, with some tan on hir underbelly. So pretty. Shi knew why shi had been so lonely, so sad, so frightened. Hir personality had fragmented to hir different heads. Center slithered through the grass at a speed shi had never known shi was capable of. Shi knew the girl would be frightened at first, disgusted, lonely. But she would come to love her new body, just like her soon to be mother had come to love hirs. |
It was the best birthday he could’ve hoped for, mostly because he couldn’t move on account of so much boob all around him. Really, nothing could’ve been better than him being smushed on all sides by busts of a size that would boggle most people’s minds, and the best part of it all was that, to some extent, this was actually normal.
While Athora didn’t get to “dive into it” with so much gusto on a regular basis, it wasn’t a rare treat either; living with a couple of hundred-foot giantesses with curves for days had a tendency to create scenarios that ended in a lot of smushing whether or not he wanted them to (and he definitely did, at that). Him being stuck between Luna and Skye, with each one seemingly competing for who could give him the most bust to squish, was an absolute dream come true; plenty of opportunities to get buried under titty, sure, but never one where he had both of them there at the same time!
He barely had the chance to blow out the candles before he was trapped in this warm, soft prison, and while he wanted to give his thanks, he knew that doing so would mean leaving that cocoon he was imprisoned in, something he had no intention of doing any time soon. Outside, both the Reshiram and Garudamon were staring one another down, a smile on their faces and a fire in their eyes; the original plan, hatched between the two of them before the impromptu party started and the cake was brought out of the freezer, was just to squish their tits together and trap Athora in there, tightly enough that he couldn’t wriggle out even if he tried. And, at least for a couple of seconds, that was all it was; indeed, both women were ready to fall back and let their smaller human companion breathe… but not them first.
Something told them to hold, and let the other one take the first step; surely, if they were doing this as a friendly gesture and a gift to their little one, then the other wouldn’t mind doing the honours and releasing Athora from within the confines of two smushed busts. Surely, they both thought, the other could understand that they would want to keep providing for their human mate for as long as possible, and thus couldn’t possibly be expected to back down while there was still squishing to be done.
Hence, in just a second or two, what had begun its life as a friendly moment of lustful companionship became an outright staredown, a contest of willpower and wits where both Skye and Luna battled one another for who would be the first to take a step backwards and let the other win. Of course, both of them were convinced they would be the ones to make it through; anything else would be ridiculous, for they were the ones who were the most devoted to Athora. Neither of them stopped to think what would happen if they were in the same boat, or, perhaps, they both had, and figured it’d be good fuel for the fire and they could use the excuse if anyone called them out on it later. All they knew for certain was that Athora was still stuck in between their collective four tits, he was wriggling around moaning happily, and he deserved all the warmth and softness the two of them could provide… which, of course, meant more than they were providing at that time.
It was the least they could do, really; why should they hold themselves back when they could, instead, be growing to give their little one even more of themselves? If Athora loved them so much, then it stood to reason he wouldn’t mind having even more of Luna and Skye going around; simultaneously, it was a convenient excuse for the two of them to duke it out in about the one way they knew how, even if it was certain to bring down the house on them and cause ample spillage throughout the neighbourhood.
Not that they particularly cared, but it would, at some point, fall back onto Athora to explain why his two housemates blew up a good chunk of the local housing district (again) just because they were horny (also again)... yet, at the same time, they couldn’t just leave Athora there half-served, nor could they stand to lose the competition they just inadvertently started between themselves. No, for all the trouble they knew it would give him, they still had to do it; it was only fair, it was his birthday, and if there was any point in the year where they were certain they had the right to splurge out, it was on that precise day.
They were both sure that others would understand, once the dust settled, both giantesses were back to their “normal” size, and most things they broke were either fixed, paid for, or both. Thus, better to throw themselves into their growth, entirely because of Athora of course; when Skye and Luna locked eyes, they weren’t at all thinking about how the other had taken their size from them, absolutely not wondering what it would take to leave their “competitor” in the dust, unable to react. The two were already big enough that it was a genuine hassle for them most of the time; not because of themselves, of course, but when one was a hundred feet tall and carried tits big enough to look disproportionately gargantuan on an already colossal frame, accidental damage was… unavoidable.
It wasn’t as if they were trying to be destructive, but the world just wasn’t built for people like them; they did their best to avoid crushing cars or toppling telephone poles, or any number of unfortunate incidents that caused no end to the headaches that plagued the local city council, but really, what was the point of wielding powers like the ones they did if they couldn’t flaunt them? Frankly, the authorities were lucky the two of them were only a hundred feet tall, because they could very easily be several times larger and it wouldn’t cost them an extra ounce of effort.
Of course, now that all sanity had been thrown out the window along with any shred of caution Skye or Luna might’ve had, size was all they were going to have; already their breasts were swelling, filling up from within to squeeze and smush poor Athora still stuck down there in between all four of those wonderful mounds. Already they were becoming enormous, taking up not just the space between the Reshiram and Garudamon, but the space next to them as well: there was plenty of backboob to go around, but, there could always be more, couldn’t it?
More spillage, more breastflesh, more warmth, more softness for everyone involved, and, most importantly, more than the other. Not that either of them would admit it, but by then, a good half of the reason for why they were bloating their tits out was only so they could say they were bigger than their main competitor, nevermind the fact that the only person that mattered was stuck between their busts and really couldn’t care less so long as they remained where they were.
It mattered to the two giantesses, and that was the most important factor there… well, that, and making sure to be the first one to push their nips into the other, just to keep them nice and pinned down by the immobilising waves of pleasure that were sure to wash over them. They both knew the one to win that first step would have an almost insurmountable advantage going further, and from personal experience as well; while not impossible to turn the tables, it’d be so complicated that it might as well just not be an option on the table, hence why Athora had to go through a whole lot more grinding than he was expecting when the two giantesses tried to manoeuvre themselves into proper position.
It was harder than it should be, given they were both trying the same thing and knew the other was doing so as well, but it was either that or relinquish one of the best advantages in what was very quickly becoming nothing more than a growth contest with a flimsy excuse thrown on top of it. Sure, neither Skye nor Luna would ever think of hurting Athora, or even so much as dropping him from where he was snugly kept, but that was becoming secondary next to the main concern that was getting a one-up on the other giantess before they could do the same to them.
To that end, they kept growing, even when their house began crumbling around them once the distortion field wore off; they didn’t really live somewhere that could take a hundred feet twice over conventionally, so both the Reshiram and Garudamon had to expend some of their power to keep the interior of the home bigger than it should be. However, even this had its limits, and without either of the two wanting to put in even more effort (quite the contrary, in fact), this hard cap was reached and rapidly blown right through, with the first crumbs of plaster powder collapsing from the ceiling being followed by a full-out burst; Skye and Luna had become too big for their house, and with a mighty, thundering crash, the whole structure was blown sky-high, bits of wood and cement flying hundreds of feet in every direction as the two giantesses emerged from their would-be cocoon.
But that didn’t stop them; even when whole chunks splattered all over the ground and either caused car alarms to go off or just flat-out crushed said cars into scrap, the one thing they could think about was outgrowing the other. It had become an addiction, even more so once they felt their nipples pushing against one another, rubbing together, driving them to a point where they could no longer think rationally about what they were doing. They still fought to hold onto what they thought was important: becoming bigger, primarily, and being bigger than the one in front of them, secondarily, with Athora dropping to a close but increasingly distant third behind the two core motivations in front of him.
But, like all things, these too began to slip; while Skye and Luna still insisted with themselves that outgrowing the competition was important, the voice in their heads that demanded they simply grow and forget about everything else became louder with each passing moment, doubly so the more they rubbed their tits together and found out just how sensitive they were becoming. The bigger they got, the harder they fell, and they weren’t going to stop growing any time soon; no, just a single and endless escalation, where even the slightest amount of stimulation was enough to get them to nearly bend over from sheer pleasure overload, where the pursuit of it all was more important than whatever passed for a competition.
Indeed, the need to be bigger than anything was eventually cast out, Athora fished up from the depths of irrelevancy and once again placed centre stage, right next to the primary drive of being big. Luna and Skye needed to be big, and they needed to be big for Athora; that was the whole point of the surprise in the first place, wasn’t it? To trap the young man between four tits of absurd proportions and then let them bloat until all he could ever experience was soft marshmallow in every direction.
And to that end, the two of them needed to grow still; it wasn’t enough that their bodies were rapidly encroaching on two hundred feet in height with their tits making that number look pathetically tiny by comparison, they needed more! Even when their busts became literal walls of breastflesh, blocking sight of anything but themselves, this still wasn’t sufficient as far as either of the two titanesses cared. At the end of the day, they could keep growing, and as long as they had that ability, that meant they hadn’t reached their limits yet; and, not having reached their limit, it stood to reason that if they wanted to go above and beyond, then it was their job, their duty, to give it their all.
For Athora’s sake, of course, but for their own as well: it wouldn’t do to waste so much time and energy on something if they themselves weren’t enjoying it to some extent! And what better way to ensure they were enjoying every moment of it if not by going out of their way to grow further, to push themselves against one another, to have their tits billow outwards until they overtook most of the neighbourhood? What better way than to give up trying to be the one to “win”, and instead cooperate: rather than Skye or Luna battling to be the one to plug the other’s nips, why not share and go fifty-fifty?
This way the two of them could experience the moment of rapturous ecstasy and still manage to retain some degree of control, control they both happily relinquished to the one in front of them once it became clear just how much better it would be if they stopped pretending they were still trying. Athora was still in there (somewhere), and ultimately, he was the only part of the equation they could bother to care about; thankfully, his needs were very simple: remain locked between four tits too massive for him to fathom, and… that was it. Just as long as Luna and Skye could provide for this, their little one would be more than happy, and so long as that was the case, they needn’t worry about anything else.
So they kept pushing; they kept growing, kept adding more of themselves, kept making their bodies bigger, their tits wider and fuller, even their rumps plumper so they may sit upon a throne of their own making. In the end, they were going to barrel through the whole neighbourhood, the ones next to it, then keep going downtown until there was nothing left; both giantesses knew better than anyone that once they got started, they couldn’t just switch it off and call it a day. No, they had to keep going, had to keep growing until they reached a point where they could go no longer, and then push the envelope just a little bit more until finally, at some mythical apogee, they would break.
They would break and shower the land below with their arousal, most likely shared with Athora, who by then would’ve broken several times over and was likely not even conscious anymore; just as he shouldn’t be, of course, seeing as the whole point of the birthday present was to knock him out through overstimulation anyway.
But that was for later, for after they were done. For the time being?
They hadn’t even begun. |
In the city of Fathach Beag, two Fae sisters grew up quite close to one another. The elder sister Ava always looking out for and playing with the younger Maeve. Maeve remembers building forts out of fallen leaves in the fall with Ava. In the winter they helped collect and melt icicles around fires to prevent them from falling from the trees overhead and damaging buildings, and the fire light through the ice cast strange dancing shadows. In the summer they would play hide and seek in the gardens among the fruits and vegetables that were the same size or even bigger than themselves. In the spring, they would giggle among themselves comparing their wings to those of butterflies that stopped by the flowers that grew around the city outskirts. But that was also where the divergence started.
Ava was quite popular among the students of her school, and she was studying to be a lapidary- identifying and refining precious stones into even more beautiful works of art. She had very little magical prowess...at least by Fae standards- and those standards were admittedly quite high. Maeve was quite good with magic for her age, so not only was she studying a different path, their age difference distanced the sisters further still. Ava still tended her sister when she could, but it a petty amount of time compared to how they used to mingle. Fae wings dissolve in liquid, growing back a day or two later once again ready for flight. If a Faerie kept their wings though, they grew larger and more impressive the longer they remained- defaulting back to transparent dragonfly-like wings when regrown. Ava had her wings in pristine condition for quite some time so by now they looked like beautiful stain-glass, black, deep blue, and pink. This gained the attention of many of her fellow students who admired her, and then fell in love with her personality. This unfortunately meant she had a busy social life outside of classes as well- further dividing her from her jealous little sister Maeve.
So Maeve did the only thing she knew to solve the situation- magic! She took to her magic tomes to see if she could find some way to force her big sister to pay more attention to her! Then she would have fun like the good old days and not want to be apart from Maeve willingly or otherwise. Maeve was still fairly young though, and while she was good at magic for her age...her repertoire was still a bit lacking. Magic books were not hard to come by in a city of Fae, but many contained concepts or words Maeve did not even know. There was an entire section dedicated to sex and lust spells and she didn't know what either of those words meant! Eventually she settled on a book of transformative spells. Maybe there was a spell to transform her sisters thoughts into ones of Maeve? No, the book did not have those sort of transformations. Almost entirely animal transformations, but Maeve did smile as she seen a section dedicated to canines. According to the book dogs were very loyal creatures, dedicating themselves to their pack above all else. Maeve was Ava's pack! Dogs were small-ish four legged creatures and looked cute enough. There was spells for different breeds, and for some reason there was two near identical ones for regular female dog and 'bitch'. Maeve did not know the difference, but bitch had its own specific title so she assumed that was the more prestigious one.
Ava twirled in the long mirror on the door to her room, admiring the dress she was wearing. There was already another four laying out on the foot of her bed she had already tried on. An outfit for every occasion, and a lot of important Fae were also pretty vain so faults in your appearance could hurt your standing rather quickly. Her smile faded a bit as she felt an odd tingling sensation pass through her body that almost settled into an itch on the surface. She puzzled over what that feeling could have been as she also noticed she felt unusually hot. It felt as though the entire room was heating up quickly, but how could that be? She had to brush her hair away from her chest because it was adding heat on top of her breasts which already insulated her front just fine on their own. That was when she noticed her nails had turned into claws! Not even sharp claws either, they had blunted tips. She wanted to take her stockings off but only bent over and groaned at the increasing heat. No, it was certainly internal temperature she realized- especially in her crotch which was starting to twinge in need. She liked what she seen in the mirror but not THAT much! It was quickly getting difficult to think straight, but she did see in the reflection her ears were growing, a bit longer and a lot wider. Fae ears were already long and pointed but also very slender, now they were becoming rounder and starting to flop over from their increasing weight. She slipped a hand into the slit up the side of the dress skirt and snaked its way under her panties to press in on her fattening labia, feeling the heat against her hands, and moisture. She moaned again at the feeling and panted a bit, leaning against the mirrored door with one hand and massaging her other hand over her pulsing pussy. Ava was unable to tell apart from the strong pulses of pleasure that her tailbone was growing out, hooking around the top of her panties and then growing down the inside of the skirt, quickly gaining a fuzzy coat of fur as it went.
Her toes curled and her feet stretched out as she lifted herself onto the front of them, seemingly from pleasure. In reality she couldn't have stopped herself from doing that regardless because her actual feet were changing structure! From the ankle down bulked and stretched, causing the tops of her stockings to migrate farther and farther down her leg, unable to contain it all properly anymore. The bottoms widened greatly as her toes fattened and grew claws as well. The much broader feet with puffy padded skin on the bottoms strained the shape of the stockings as it was, so when the claws started to grow they immediately popped holes in the ends. Ava was working her nethers rigorously now, hooking her fattened fingertips into herself as she rubbed. Her entire body tensed with each inward push and her breathing was becoming ragged and her moans sharper in tone. Her mouth hung open in lust so she hardly noticed her tongue was actually much larger than it was supposed to be, and a bit flatter than normal. Her panties were already moist, but she squeaked in a desperate orgasm and completely soaked them, staggering back off the door a bit finally realizing something was vastly different about her leg structure. The entire room seemed a bit off making her feel like she was going to pass out, but she did not. What was actually happening is the range of colour her eyes could perceive was becoming more narrow- she was losing her ability to see certain colours. Her horniness also did not go away, at all. If anything the orgasm made her hungrier to have another! As soon as she hooked her hand around her fat labia though the tensing muscles in her arm expanded tremendously as her hands became giant paws. She held both arms out in front of her, staring at them while still panting. They were huge! From her elbows down her arms almost tripped in width! She felt her feet expand the same way, and they became even a bit larger than her hands had. When she looked down her balance was thrown off again and she hunched way over, feeling fur quickly growing on the top of her back and her spine started to groan and pop as it expanded, and then her rib cage.
Ava panted loudly, letting a bit of drool drip from her tongue- too desperate and horny to care what she looked like right now. As she alternated from heavy breaths to groans her teeth all turned to fangs and her tongue got a bit longer, and the end of her nose started to darken. Her dress was so tight! Her body was trying to catch up to her oversized paws. Her panties dug into her even fatter darkening labia causing her to stagger back and forth, squirming around on her feet trying to find a position where it wasn't digging in. Her dress started to shred at the seams and she could not take the heat anymore, grabbing into the fabric with her claws and ripping the front of the dress completely apart. She yipped in surprise of her reflection when tearing her dress open revealed six smaller breasts under her original two! Now less restrained her entire body started to grow, making her paws less giant in proportion. Her tail involuntarily wagging tossed the remnants of the clothing off her while her expanding torso popped the clasp on her bra. Ava went to run the soft pads of her front paws down her many tits and yelped at the sharp pleasure, immediately skipping them and ripping her panties off in desperation. Her pussy was tremendously puffy, and almost pitch black! It had taken on a triangular shape more familiar to canines. Without even turning around her eyes locked with the tall round bedposts behind her- in the reflection of the mirror. She staggered back till she felt it on her lower back, then stepped up onto the bed to lift herself high enough and lowered the large sphere on the top of the bedpost into her pussy and started pistoning up and down, rocking her hips back and forth at the same time. She rolled her huge paws over her many tits, twinging the nipples up and down. Her tongue lolled out the side of her mouth as her face started to stretch as she groaned and panted from the sensations. Her nose became dark and wet as the fur starting on her forearms and back started to spread across her entire body like wildfire.
Ava grunted as she looked down in frustration at the bed post- it was too small for her. Or more accurately, she was too big. She no longer hand to hold herself up on the bed, she stood tall enough to easily get it in her and the bedpost wasn't doing anything a single finger from her could already do. She started rapidly rolling her finger over her fat black pussy to try to aid the post. Her head hit the light on the roof only a moment before it hit the roof with a dull thud. She was as tall as the room! She tried to bend forward to give herself more room but her spine and joins had been slowly shifting position and it was too difficult to stay upright now, so bending over caused her to fall completely onto all fours. The let out a long whine before slamming her pussy back and engulfing an entire corner of her bed in its plush folds. She thrust back against the bed, which was slamming against the wall with enough force to crack it. Her weight was starting to bend the floor down and the entire level of the building was starting to creak as she shifted back and forth. She had another orgasm as the top of her head was pressed forcefully into the door frame and she jammed backward aggressively from the orgasm, causing the entire bottom of the bed to enter her! Her body groaned and bones popped into new positions as she had another large growth spurt and the bed was forced further into her as she expanded across the floor, till she was touching both walls and the entire bed was basically inside of her. The door creaked and blew off the hinges across the hall and Maeve quickly dashed into the hall from her room in surprise, not entirely knowing what was going on herself. The walls started to bend outward and Ava's feet smashed through the roof of the floor below, she was outgrowing everything. Her pussy was clenching and spurting on its own, even though the bed was becoming too small for her as well.
Ava felt the tips of her paws touch the furnature in the floor below and without thinking lurched forward to get her footing, causing her face to smash through the hall and the floor of the rooms across from hers. All the splintering wood and tile was abrasive on her furry face causing her to recoil, staggering out through the side of the building, ripping the entire side off of all three floors as she fell into the street. Ava could not think through the hormones and as soon as she got her footing on the cobble road she thrust back and ground her pussy into the corner of the building, causing the entire remainder of it to rock back and forth with her thrusts as her juices ran down it and pooled on the sidewalk. Other Fae gathered in shock, trying to figure out what was going on- Ava was 90% canine at this point and not at all recognizable as having ever been a Fae. Maeve just stood in the sundered hall in shock, not sure if she should say or do anything, at risk of others knowing she did it. Ava orgasmed again, firing the bed out of herself as she was forced to turn her head against the building across the street- quickly running out of room again. She had the flexibility now though to do what few species could- she rolled into a ball and licked her own pussy, falling backward just as she ran out of room, causing her back to scrape off sections of the wall of buildings on both sides of the street at the same time. As she thrust into her own face and writhed in the street she unknowingly started to destroy two entirely new buildings because she was much larger than the street itself. Another powerful orgasm started to rocket through her till she convulsed violently, throwing her head back and howling as she exploded pussy juice down the road soaking several onlookers as she completely her transformation into a complete bitch. Still panting heavily, she slowly turned to look at Maeve with her teeth bared.
Maeve had not been outside of the Fae city to know what the outside world was like. She did not know the Fae people were tiny. The book said dogs were fairly small animals, but she did not realize the illustration was of a dog and a human, not a Fae. To Faeries dogs were absolutely huge. Well, Maeve may have to spend the next several years worth of chores to make this up to her elder sister. At least they would now have to spend more time together...that is, if Ava didn't want Maeve to tell everyone who the giant horny mut was that wrecked a city block with her cunt. |
No one in that town really deserved what was going to happen to them, but they were going to go through it anyway, because someone had to be on the receiving end of her anger that day. It wasn’t enough that her alarm clock ran out of batteries just before waking her up, leaving her daily schedule seriously messed up, it wasn’t enough that the joint she’d been casing for a while suddenly decided to hire more guards for whatever reason, thus completely ruining her plans for the place, but then it turned out her favorite restaurant went bankrupt without her knowing about it and she couldn’t even get her best comfort food! The day had gone from bad to worse and it wasn’t even three in the afternoon yet, leaving the pegasus with a mood so foul that it was probably infectious, and she was going to make that everyone’s problem but her own… just not anywhere near her home, or else people might notice and take umbrage at that.
Still, plenty of villages and towns out there that no one would really miss if they just so happened to vanish off the surface of the planet and straight down a certain someone’s gullet. All she had to do was fly for an hour or so until she was sure she was far enough away from any central authority that she could afford to swoop down, land on the outskirts of some random rural town in the middle of nowhere, and then proceed to unleash a fraction of her true size. Not all of it though; Masquerade wasn’t yet capable of working miracles, and releasing all of the size she had stored away would attract a bit of undue attention, which would run directly counter to her wanting to just blow off some steam by flattening and then utterly consuming an entire population center. For fun.
The poor folks living there were in for the surprise of their lives. One moment everything was just as it had always been, quaint and idyllic, lacking in any sort of surprises or innovation, just the simple life of a rural town where the most exciting thing that happened on any given day was a particularly big pumpkin that happened to be spotted growing in the patch… and in the next, there was a seventy-foot tall giantess of a pegasus looming over their little corner of the world, scandalously naked and looking like she was ready to pick up every last building and rip it to shreds from how angry an expression she sported. And indeed, the first thing Masquerade did after unleashing this miniature-sized version of her full form was grab the nearest house, inspect it for any denizens, and as soon as she confirmed the presence of three tasty morsels inside, smash open the front door with a single finger and then tip the whole structure down so the poor souls within would have to be dropped into her ravenous maw. The trio of ponies were so stunned by the sudden emergence of the giantess that they didn’t even think to hold onto anything, not that it would’ve solved anything; if they hadn’t simply flown out the smashed-open door and straight down the goddess’ throat, she would’ve just smashed the whole house apart and plucked them from the wreckage without a second thought. At the very least, they served as a wonderful appetizer, an entrée to the full meal that lay ahead of her, delicious enough that Masquerade managed to not feel pissed off, if only for a few moments; as soon as the realization hit that she had that whole town to herself and no one could do anything about it, suddenly her worries and woes stopped feeling so overwhelming. It was time to have some fun.
Advancing on the town was always the best part of it all, given the amount of quaking that went on whenever she took a step, to say nothing of the terrified looks and panicked screams that always erupted from her would-be prey. Within the limits of that town, Masquerade alone decided on what everyone did, and right now she wanted everyone to sit down and beg for mercy so she could deny them; she was feeling like playing the role of the wrathful goddess for a good hour or so, it always worked wonders on her stress levels. For now though, she focused on adding the consumed mass to herself, hoping that it would do something only to then be disappointed at how little of a boost it gave her… then again, three ponies? With herself at seventy-feet tall? Clearly she needed more.
The remaining townies were quick to try and fight back, with the few unicorns they could muster up trying to hold back the advancing giantess by throwing whatever offensive magic they knew at her. This did very little beyond force her to raise an eyebrow at the frankly pitiful attempt at throwing her away, though she had to give them points for at least trying, if nothing else; by the time she reached the squad of ponies shooting at her with increasingly desperate looks on their faces, she was more than happy to demonstrate just how true this was: a single sweep of her hands and about ten or so new victims were picked up and held inside of her palm, all smushed up together and ready to be scarfed down like a handful of gummy snacks, just the way she liked it. Their screams of terror and panic were music to her ears, especially once she closed her mouth after the last one went in and they were suddenly very muffled, kicking against her tongue and throat even as they lost the fight to her body’s insides and were dutifully dumped into her stomach where they belonged, where they could be reprocessed into yet more mass for her body. It wasn’t too much (at her size, what even was?), but given the amount of magical power they wielded, plus the sheer number of them, it was enough to at at least pad herself out: bit more pudge to her tits, more curve to her hips and thighs and a smidgeon of plush for her asscheeks, just enough that she could actually squeeze herself and feel the difference.
But now… now she was hungry. Now that she cut loose and got a taste of her favorite food, Masquerade was hungrier than ever before, or… perhaps hungry wasn’t the right word. The pegasus didn’t feel a need to eat, didn’t feel empty or in need of sustenance, certainly didn’t think she needed something to help pad out her stomach. What she wanted was to find more little ones to pluck from the safety of their hidey-holes and then slurp down, what she wanted was to impose herself and make them know just how helpless their situation is before she unilaterally ended it all by asserting her own divinity upon her newest subjects. That and being able to pick up a couple of houses, crush them in her grip and then convert whatever remained into something edible, that she might be able to transform the whole damned town into more mass for her to improve herself with.
It was hard to tell if the expression she was carrying was still one of annoyance or if her face was simply locked into a grimace that betrayed more malicious enjoyment than anger, but whatever the case may be, the pegasus had all-but forgotten why she was even there to begin with, fully absorbed as she was by her own reckless, relentless greed, the desire to take and take until there was nothing left for her to lay her greedy fingers on. It even looked as if the town’s inhabitants were deliberately trying their best to make it easier on her, given how they all decided to rush towards a single building and have one of their unicorns erect a barrier over it, one that Masquerade knew for a fact she could destroy just by poking it hard enough… but chose to spare for the time being.
Where was the fun in going straight for the end when there was still so much fun to be had all around? With everyone stuck inside that barn, the rest of the town was open for the pegasus to smash and burn and rip and tear and utterly thrash to her heart’s content, giving her the perfect source of stress relief after a shitty day… which is exactly what she did. With the most inappropriately gleeful smile on her face, Masquerade began stomping around, treating the buildings around her like toys laid out for her to smash, swinging her arms and legs in order to cause as much damage as possible, all while cackling maniacally whenever she felt that weight on her shoulders dissipate. There was something magical about being able to just cut loose and wreck stuff without any regard for consequences, especially when she knew no one was going to be around by the time she was finished; even anyone tried to run, catching up to stragglers was always something she adored doing, and with no other settlements nearby, there weren’t exactly a lot of avenues for help for those poor, poor snacks hiding inside the shielded barn… and one trying to fly away, the sneaky little thing!
The giantess had almost missed it, but another pegasus had taken flight from a shop that she’d just destroyed, apparently having survived the whole thing collapsing on them and yet still thinking that trying to run off while within catching range was still a good idea. To their credit, they almost evaded notice, and probably had a few seconds of pure bliss where they believed themselves to be scott-free before their whole world turned dark when Masquerade’s hand clamped down on the whole body, squeezing it so strongly that their wings were almost bent permanently out of shape. The flyer was brought over to face her captor, very slowly raised so the two of them could see eye to eye, just so the smaller of the two could experience true terror as they gazed into the eyes of someone who saw them as nothing more than a living, breathing battery that she could drain for her own benefit. And indeed, that’s exactly what Masquerade did; with simple intent, she began draining the pegasus in her hand of as much mass as she could get away without having them shrivel into nothingness, adding a paltry sum to herself, but just enough to let her feel what it was like to steal someone’s size from them, always a wonderful experience as far as she was concerned. The other flyer’s screams of pain were very quickly muffled when their shrinking body was completely covered by Masquerade’s clenched fist, until their weakness overcame their primal instincts and they fell quiet, whimpering inaudibly in the few seconds they had before it was all over. As soon as she was content that the process was over, the giantess opened her hand, gave her prey a big, toothy smile, and then unceremoniously threw them into her mouth like they were a piece of candy; a few seconds later and they were safely in her stomach, to join the rest of the souls she had already taken care of.
What followed were a few more minutes of rampaging fun where Masquerade made sure that anything and everything around the barn where the survivors were hiding was well and truly flattened, leaving absolutely nothing left of the town itself apart from the foundations and a couple of freestanding bits of wood. By the end, she was panting and sweating all over, but felt the best she ever had in weeks; it had been far too long since the last time she let loose like that, and it made her feel as if she really needed to schedule in a few more kaiju-like destruction sprees in order to keep her stress levels in check. Nevertheless, with everything else taken care of, it was time to direct her attention to the one building that yet remained unclaimed.
She could sense them, dozens upon dozens of little ones all huddled together and hoping that the monster destroying their town would spare them or, barring that, the barrier would hold up against her onslaught. Neither assumptions were even remotely tangential to reality of course; not only did Masquerade fully intend to take her time picking apart her last meal in order to play with it, but she had absolutely no trouble breaching the pitiful shell that some two-bit magician erected around it, and even did so in the most nonchalant way possible, by merely pushing her index finger into it and piercing its surface like it was made of wet paper. Oh, the screams that erupted from within that barn, they were music to her ears; Masquerade could barely hold back when her lips split into a magnificently wide and overblown grin, her hands grabbing the structure on both sides and ripping it off the ground, revealing the surprising amount of survivors that had all been waiting for that exact moment not to happen. They were all looking up at their doom, at a hungry-looking giantess of a pegasus whose hand loomed over them, whose shadow was cast, and whose presence smothered them until they could barely even breathe; Masquerade didn’t intend to crush these little ones, oh no, she had better plans for them.
After all, if a single pegasus was such a good snack for her, then surely if she drained dozens of ponies at the same time, then the experience would be nothing short of divine… and even then, when the real thing hit, the budding goddess couldn’t help but feel like she underestimated the impact it would have on her, leaving her practically drooling and with her other free hand inching dangerously close to her nethers in order to make good use of that endorphin rush. A few more seconds though, and it’d all be over; her body gained a few extra feet in height from the stolen mass, but most of it went towards padding her figure out even more, or at least as much as it could when she was already that massive, and without even thinking too hard about it, Masquerade brought all the tiny snacks she now had stuck to her palm up to her mouth and licked them all off her hands, swallowing contentedly and gently patting her belly once she felt the first few ones landing inside of her stomach. They wouldn’t do much for her figure, not at her sizes, but they did do one very important thing: they reminded her of how ravenous her hunger was at that exact moment.
She looked around: no town left, no survivors to pick up, drain and then consume. No sentient life, even, nothing that she could feast on… but surely, that wasn’t the only town around. And she wasn’t anywhere near done with her stress relief for the day.
After all, she hadn’t even gotten the chance to chase after stragglers yet. |
While it was a given that those like Spikes were digital life forms, no one before had ever tried to push the limit of that definition quite as far as the company that hired him to perform waste disposal. When the Rena walked up to their main office for an interview, assuming he would be given some sort of hazard protection uniform and an address for a landfill, he was surprised to be shown to an office instead, one that was almost too spacious for what was, nominally, an entry-level position; it was only after he was informed of what the job actually entailed, in all of its blush-inducing glory, that Spikes understood why he was being handed one of the most luxurious workspaces he’d had the pleasure of being in: he wasn’t supposed to throw the electronic waste away, he was supposed to eat it.
In all fairness, he couldn’t say it was that bad of an idea; creatures like him thrived off of bizarre, line-straddling situations like those, where their unique digital biology allowed them to do things that other folks couldn’t, even when they seemed to go against conventional (or even scientific) logic; for the Renamon, it struck him as odd that someone would try and experiment with that sort of waste disposal, but after he munched down on the first HDD and ended up perfectly fine afterwards, he had to admit: it was a pretty good idea. The company saved a significant amount of money on conventional methods of trashing their old electronics and they got away with not paying their newest employee a food subsidy, all while giving him perhaps the simplest, most delightful job one could imagine; it was one of those odd situations where, through pure serendipity, everyone in the corporate ladder stood to benefit at no cost to anything or anyone else… well, apart from Spikes’ waistline, that is.
Though the Rena was initially unaware that such a thing was even possible, and indeed he failed to notice it happening until he found himself struggling to fit into a pair of jeans that used to need additional belt fastening just to be kept off the ground, his figure began to suffer almost immediately after he was employed; eager to show off that he was both enthusiastic about his new position and open about the possibility of taking on extra work for extra pay, Spikes accepted just about anything that could remotely qualify as electronic waste onto his desk: old hard drives, processing units, graphics cards, flash drives, even entire CD racks if it came down to it, just so he could have an excuse to say he was helping to contribute to lower waste rates across the board.
And while he devoured each and every one of those items with a gusto that bordered on the manic, the same could not be said about his own body’s ability to keep up with his pace; slowly, but surely, his belly began to bloat outwards, day after day, until it became less of a mild inconvenience when he tried to put on extra-tight pants and began to threaten his ability to use shirts without them riding up his torso whenever he tried to do anything other than sit down. It was a slow boil though, slow enough that the Rena managed to convince himself that everything was fine until one day he tried to leave his bedroom without his partner noticing, exceedingly early in the morning, and ended up feeling both sides of the doorframe against his belly. It wasn’t enough to get him stuck there, not like in those comics that he swore up and down he had never read, but just the fact that his gut grazed against two extremes of a doorway was… worrying, to say the least; so much so that the Renamon seemingly woke up from a trance once his brain processed what had happened, leaving him so confused as to what happened to him that it took him several minutes of staring in a mirror before he put the puzzle pieces together.
He remembered seeing himself reflected on its surface before: slim, lithe, honestly a bit of a beanpole without the extra height to go with it. Now he was… bigger. His cheeks were puffy, almost like he was constantly keeping a bit of air in them, his neck had bulged out so much that it looked like it had two layers of fat stacked on top of one another; the rest of him wasn’t any better, now that his belly was quite easily about three feet wide at the widest, leaving him thoroughly pear-shaped at best, and slightly blob-like at worst, especially if he ever sat down without clothes that helped mask just how well his fat ass and fatter thighs melted together into one huge, pudgy mass.
And yet, as he stood there staring at himself, knowing that he should want to hold back and not eat as much, Spikes found that he was of two minds on the subject: yes, there was the part of him that urged caution, but it did so not on his behalf, but rather as a way of not being too much of a “burden” on Tim, who at that point was sound asleep in the couple’s bedroom and probably more than aware of the Rena’s bodily changes. The other side of him though? This one urged him to drink deeper of the wellspring, to throw himself headfirst into it and gorge until he could gorge no longer, until he became nothing but a colossally large ball of flab… and then he should eat some more, again and again, until such a point as it was physically impossible for him to continue (assuming that such a state could even be reached).
And the more he stood there, the more he stared into his reflection’s eyes, the more the Rena found that they began to veer downwards, until he wasn’t looking at the glass anymore; his fingers found his waistline, his ruined, barrel-shaped body, and instead of finding it lacking, instead of letting his brain know it should signal less hunger, they instead flared out with the exact opposite: he should eat more. He should consume endlessly, he should demand that the office find him even more sources of electronic waste, that he may spend his eight hours snacking on whatever was at hand, to grow forevermore and never stop… and that’s exactly what he did, at least in more polite terms, when he finally got to work that morning.
It was strange how no one there ever commented on how much bigger he’d gotten, not even when he bumped into them or nearly got stuck on some of the smaller doorways or openings; his coworkers were nothing if not polite and helpful, with many even asking if he’d gotten slimmer over the course of his time at the company. This had to be on purpose, surely… but even if it was, should he even care? Spikes certainly didn’t seem to think so, not when he huffed his way back to his office carrying a box full of electronic scrap that seemed to weigh over ten pounds; this was the sort of work that used to take him the whole shift, where he would laze about watching videos online while constantly taking bits and pieces from his assigned workload until there was nothing left for him to eat. Now though? Now he could barely even consider the notion of taking his time; though he at least had the courtesy of waiting until he was inside his office and the blinds were drawn, he didn’t even bother with manners when he dropped the box on the ground and shoved his muzzle into it; what was worse, the contents of that thing were mostly old hard drives, the sort of waste that had the biggest impact on him, what with the vast amounts of junk data that went straight to his ass, thighs and gut. But he didn’t care. He was hungry, and being hungry, he only knew how to feed.
Perhaps it was this openness that made the experience especially pleasurable, or maybe having junk data pumped into him via some odd method of digital digestion was just something that his body interpreted as being worthy of activating his pleasure centers; whatever the case, the Rena wasn’t concerned by how he was quite literally on his knees, bent over a box of scrap, scarfing down pound after pound of old electronics as his form bloated further and further into a rounded, near-spherical shape. He could see, in the back of his head, all the useless piles of bits his body was processing: remains of old documents, years’ worth of filings and pointless bureaucracy, the odd abandoned project that would never again see the light of day, even, occasionally, something that was most definitely not safe for work, stored away inside a hard drive that no one ever bothered to check, assuming the folks at IT didn’t catch the poor guy who thought to browse that during work hours.
It was a true history of the company, stretching back for long enough that, if Spikes truly wanted to, he could probably piece together a timeline from the very moment the building was first populated by the people who hired him… assuming, that is, that he had the mental capacity to stop himself from consuming the next piece of electronic scrap and completely forgetting about the one he had just eaten, condemned to the pits of oblivion and his expanding waistline. His stomach had become a black hole: information went in, and though it was probably recoverable in some fantastical way that science had yet to stumble onto, in practice it was, for all intents and purposes, gone; anyone looking at him would be able to tell that it was there, owing to the enlarged gut the Renamon was sporting, but good luck trying to piece together anything that swirled around in that gurgling, groaning, sloshing belly of his. If Spikes had bothered to look down, he’d see his gut, slung out underneath him, bloating into an increasingly wide shape, smushed against the ground and spreading in every direction, until he could use it as his very own body pillow.
It was excess in its purest form, that of transforming his body into a living bed, but at least he could rest easy knowing that, in all likelihood, Tim would probably enjoy it at least as much as he himself was, if not more; sure, there was the issue of leaving the office and fitting into any vehicle that could bring him home, not to mention getting through the front door or the complicated engineering problem that would be him using his bed without reinforcing it with steel girders or anything equivalent, but such problems felt… distant, unremarkable, not something that he, the present Spikes, should have to worry about. After all, his shift had just started, and given the sort of work he had been entrusted with, it was likely that he would be receiving a new package for him to eat through sometime in the next few hours, if not sooner; the thought alone nearly made him fatten up more in preparation, but in the absence of any actual data to munch through, his body settled for a series of quivering shockwaves that left him unable to use his legs anymore.
The kneeling turned into him collapsing completely, losing control over his lower body and very nearly his upper one, were it not for his brain recognizing that he still needed access to his hands in order to pig out more efficiently; luckily, his belly was gigantic enough that he could afford to simply lie on top of it, what with its blubbery flab being so soft that it felt better than any mattress the Rena could ever buy, and so warm that he might as well be wrapped up in a dozen blankets in the middle of winter. It was comfortable, above all else, and it was precisely this degree of mind-numbing sense of relaxation that bade him eat even more, even faster, hoping to find greater heights of self-indulgence to ascend to.
There were no more concerns there, no more questions about doorways and weight limits, just himself and a box of discarded hard drives filled with delicious junk data for him to eat and turn into even more Rena. It was perhaps the most benevolent twist of fate that he should take so easily to gorging himself on this sort of thing; it wasn’t the actual metal components, nor the myriad of electronics that made him grow larger, rounded, more spherical and unable to move without rolling around. Rather, it was the data itself, or at least whatever corrupted wisps of it were left within the very scrap that Spikes was devouring, that coalesced inside his body and were turned into delectable, hand-filling pudge; after all, with a digital biology that seemed to defy the laws of physics at every possible turn, it wasn’t at all surprising that the Renamon would end up growing fat on the same kind of “stuff” that he was technically made out of, even if his physicality was what most people would focus on first.
As a process, it was hard to explain, especially when the Rena himself could barely keep track of all the useless piles of crap that he had to devour, all the stored bits and unreadable sequences and whatever else was in those hard drives he was munching on, all of it clogging his body to such a degree that it had no choice but to expand outwards in every direction, until he was left stranded atop a belly that seemed unwilling to give him even the smallest amount of rest. Occasionally, Spikes would come to, his eyes opening properly to give him an idea of just what he had turned himself into, and every time he would be just the slightest bit more obscenely massive, taking up increasing amounts of his office space… and yet never quite running out of scrap to devour.
It was odd, given that, though ten pounds was still a significant amount, it was a finite one, and at the rate he was eating through it, he should’ve been done a while ago; it wasn’t until he “woke up” at the exact, opportune moment to catch someone leaving his cramped office space, carrying what looked to be an exact duplicate of the box that he was still digging into, that the Rena understood what was happening. Yet, rather than wanting to shout and complain about being taken advantage of, the one thing he felt like doing was… keep eating. He figured he should thank the generous folks at the company for giving him so much to eat, but that would mean not devouring more electronics to fatten himself up even more, just so he could exchange a few words; surely, the fact that he was going through so many boxes of the stuff was proof enough.
So he kept eating.
What else was he to do? |
Being spaceborne was an interesting experience, especially given that her body had effectively become so immense that, rather than simply occupying the spot that Earth had left behind after she snacked on it, Emily instead took up most of the space between Venus and Mars, and that was just with her waist; the planetary system was lucky the plane most of the planets travelled on happened to pass straight through her midriff, because had it been just a few… honestly, she couldn’t even tell anymore. Most of her life, the cat had pictured the many planets as impossibly large bits of rock and gas floating in space, and yet now, when she looked towards the two closest ones, she could barely make them out against the immense backdrop of her thighs, to say nothing of how many stars her rear and bust were blocking out, her own included! Emily had to be careful to fish out the Sun from where it had pushed itself into, a tight fold on the side of her right breast where her soft, pudgy self had more or less grown over it; didn’t feel as warm as she figured it should, but then again, her body in general was so colossal that physical law had probably taken one look at her and decided not to even bother anymore. With the star in her hand, held neatly in her palm, it was only a matter of time until the local area of space was left completely in the dark, and with a simple squish… poof. Gone. Darkness surrounding her, lit only by distant stars, and all of the mass of the sun added to her own, not that it really mattered when her breasts and butt alone were already pushing against the Oort Cloud.
Emily took a moment to check if Kitty was still where she had left him, only to realize that she was far, far too big to be able to detect someone who was still person-sized. She could try and sense him, but that was hardly easy given the sort of scale she was operating at; then again, it was either that or nothing, so the stellar-sized cat took a couple of minutes to close her eyes, turn her senses inwards, and attempt to find out if her mate was still stuck in her folds, riding out the same high that she was. It was just like finding a needle inside an entire warehouse full of hay while blindfolded, and indeed Emily was about ready to give up entirely by the time she chanced upon something: a brightly-burning little flame, stuck somewhere inside of her at a distance that even she couldn’t quite fathom. It was odd, seeing his body at distances that even light took some time to travel, but it had to be them, still happy, still ecstatic, still mindlessly enjoying the fact that he got given a front-row seat to a brand new goddess being born. It left Emily relieved at the very least, since now she could focus entirely on growing bigger without having to worry about losing Kitty by the wayside; even better, in the short time it took for her to find and confirm he was still there, her body apparently decided that it was better off outsizing entire solar systems by sheer virtue of being, because as soon as Emily opened her eyes again, what she saw around her were millions of tiny little dots, spread across the heavens with seemingly no pattern, all them blinking in curious little rhythms in those short few seconds they had before her body replaced them.
There was no other way things could go. As far as the giantess very much enjoyed the night sky, what exactly was she going to do, slow down? Emily doubted that was even possible, even assuming she might one day want to not constantly accelerate outwards and feel as the very fabric of existence was absorbed by her burgeoning form. It made for some fine entertainment as well, being able to watch in real-time as entire star clusters and nebulae were there one second, then were replaced by a tiny fraction of her breasts, or perhaps a bit of thigh, all while she rested her arms atop her bust, laid her lazy head down and rode that serotonin wave for as long as it could possibly last. Didn’t take long before her form became noticeable even from intergalactic space, jutting out from atop and beneath the Milky Way’s plane, utterly dwarfing everything around it, with Emily’s mind suddenly jumpstarting as she became acutely aware of just how massive she was and just how utterly insufficient it happened to be. But she had a plan; it was a dumb plan, it was bound to fail, but she had to try anyway.
For the whole duration of her ascension, as little as it had been considering how inflationary speeds worked, her bust had been hard at work giving making the Milky Way live up to its namesake, mostly by replacing every bit of empty space between the stars with her intensely-sugary, warm cream; however, this was nothing if not wasteful, because it wasn’t feeding back to her in any way, thus requiring the intervention of something that could turn all of this excess milk into something worthy of a goddess like herself, something more than a mere snack like all those twinkling stars and their planetary systems were: that great big cosmic sinkhole at the center of the galaxy. It was probably ridiculous to think she could use it as a concentrated booster, but then again, her ass was bigger than it was and soon enough it would outsize the entire Milky Way itself, so it was either act immediately or lose out on the opportunity. As such, Emily turned herself towards Sagittarius A*, doing so with a kind of ease that was entirely at odds with her size, extended her arms outwards to either side of her (coincidentally messing with dark matter strands so much as to break them apart completely), and promptly shoved them straight into her breasts.
What should have been a painful impact never registered whatsoever, but did create such an incomprehensibly vast gush of milk that, for a few moments, the black hole became shimmering white, right before the event horizon began to expand at an impossible rate as the singularity at the very center absorbed entire galaxies’ worth of mass, the Milky Way (or whatever was left of it) being consumed in the process. Entire globular clusters were washed away in the cream currents, spiralling down the drain into the growing, lightless sphere, until entire galactic arms were twisted and bent out of shape before being pushed into the black hole with a little help on Emily’s part. Somehow, in just a few short minutes, her home galaxy was gone, replaced with a milk-stuffed and well-fed hypermassive black hole that still wasn’t even big enough to fit on her palm properly. Honestly, it felt like a disappointment, even if she could feel how heavy it was from sheer proximity; were this any other day, it would’ve been enough to implode her brain from simply trying to comprehend it, but now?
Now it was just another snack, one that she barely felt going down after unceremoniously throwing it into her mouth like it was a piece of hard candy, not even bothering to consider how many laws of physics she was breaking with such a seemingly simple gesture; all that mattered was that Andromeda was within arm’s reach, and with it, a highway to the next galaxy over. It seemed almost wasteful not to spend at least some time savoring that new dish, but by the time that Emily reached the next meal on her main course she was already so unbelievably colossal that it could fit in the palm of her hand and still have room left. She could only imagine what it must be like for any sentients living within it; one moment everything was fine, the next they had some unfathomably, incalculably huge mass approaching them from “beneath” the galactic plane, pushing the whole thing towards what looked to be a cavernous maw wider that the greatest of voids, capped with two scintillating gems bigger than their home galaxy was: Emily’s eyes, shining in the dark, glaring at her newest snack with a mixture of delight and boredom, knowing that, as much as she was going to enjoy chowing down on the whole of Andromeda, even then it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her anymore, not at the size she was at. At least the second supermassive black hole was enough of a snack that she felt it going down, as opposed to the rest of the galaxy’s mass; quite disappointing overall, if she had to be perfectly honest.
She sighed, taking a few moments to focus and try to find some enjoyment out of all of this; why exactly was she even bored? Why had galaxies suddenly become the be-all end-all of her growthsplosion? She was so unbelievably huge, and yet had decided to grade her size based on something so tiny compared to her that she could barely even see them anymore? That just felt like a waste of time now that she thought about it; why even bother with such puny little objects when one of her nipples alone could outsize any of them, when a single one of her breasts or cheeks, when a fraction of her thighs alone consumed countless such disks and globules without her even realizing it was happening? Hell, the more she looked at herself, the more her mouth broke into a wide, toothy grin as she came to understand the full size that her body had achieved, especially now that it more or less fed itself and was entirely out of her control. “Down” below, her thighs and hips had widened so much that, if it weren’t for her equally colossal asscheeks competing for room, they would’ve blotted out every source of light beneath her body; in front, she couldn’t even see anything at all, given the literal wall of breastflesh that covered her entire field-of-view. And behind her… well, Emily didn’t know what was behind her, because why would she look anywhere else but forward with a cleavage like that to rest her head upon? In the coldness of space, her warm bosom provided the best possible pillow to rest upon, giving her something soft and delightfully comfy on which to rest as her body continued to overtake the entirety of existence; wouldn’t take too long before there wasn’t a “behind” her either, with her rear riding up her back and imprisoning her torso between her tits on one side, and a small portion of her cheeks in the other. She would’ve liked to be able to grind her legs together, but sadly couldn’t do it without risking time breaking apart; still, that much wouldn’t be a concern for too long, not after she was done with everything.
Because the end was approaching, or at least the end of what she knew existed. With her growth accelerating past the point where she could even remotely think to control it, Emily knew it was only a matter of time until everything in that iteration of reality had been consumed and replaced with some part of her body, most likely tit, ass or thigh given how enormous those were. Within a few short minutes, every galactic supercluster, every mega-strand of dark matter, every last ounce of mass left in the Universe would be hers, fed into her body to make her even more glorious than she already was, made to fatten her up to become the goddess she was always meant to be. She could feel it already, the fabric of existence straining against her, feeling like a plastic bag had been forced over her entire body and she was trying to get out from inside of it, pushing against a thin film that, no matter how flimsy it might be, refused to budge. Be it a part of one breast or a section of a leg, she felt the very edge of the Universe encroaching upon her, until finally, after what had to be a mere hour (or even less) after eating her planet, Emily’s growth stopped.
It was inevitable, if only because of simple logic: she couldn’t really grow into anywhere if there was no room to grow into at all, and somehow, her explosive inflation had reached the very edge of existence and found where everything just… stopped. There was no more space beyond that point, no more room past that invisible boundary that was nonetheless extremely malleable. The cat could push her hand against it, feel it twist and bend beneath her fingers, but it always returned to its old state when she stopped trying to push through, leaving her feeling surprisingly cramped and yet quite comfortable at the same time; after all, the entirety of existence had been taken over by her bust, rear and legs, a colossal cat with an hourglass figure so exaggerated that she couldn’t help but drool at the mere thought of it… but it still wasn’t enough. She knew she had more left in her, but what was she to do? There was no more Universe to grow into, and she hadn’t discovered the secrets of life yet; all the milk that had been leaking out of her was still floating about, and she figured the whole cosmic egg she was trapped in would eventually flood itself with her productivity, but what then? It almost felt anti-climactic in a way.
Then she felt it: a grumble in her belly. It was like a void… or many voids, now that she thought about it. It felt like her stomach acid was churning away, irritated by some unfathomable beast of immense size roiling away inside of her. It was only after a tiny little burp produced what was unmistakably a singularity surrounded by an event horizon that Emily realized what was happening; to be perfectly fair, it made sense that eating all of those black holes would eventually come back to bite her, though the cat had hoped that it wouldn’t be something as undignified as burping in front of… well, not anyone, but still! Luckily for her, no such thing came to pass; unluckily, what did happen was significantly worse, at least for the fabric of the Universe that she had come to replace.
Emily felt it before it happened, bubbling up from her stomach, building up pressure in that one, most uncomfortable spot in the back of her throat. She feared what might happen if she let it out, feared that it might have dire consequences for existence as she knew it… but was that not the point? Did she not want to break free of her bonds and truly explode in every direction? Maybe this was the key to that, if only she were brave enough to set it loose.
A single hiccup, accompanied by a flinch… and a distant, reverberating pop as the cosmic egg surrounding her cracked.
She was free. |
Honestly, it had been a long time coming.
As he finished typing in the command prompt and Spikes was finished being shrunk to a diminutive size, Tim couldn’t help but think they should’ve done that months prior. All the constant trickery and deception, all the growing and ascensions and universal resets and all the endless pleasure overdrives, it was… well, it wasn’t bad, per se, but after a while, a cat wanted to have a cat nap, and the Rena made it impossible for that to happen whenever he was around.
Spikes was an endless font of horny energy, and while Tim was often more than happy to play into that, there came a time when all they wanted to do was have some rest and not have to worry about whether or not the house would survive, or if the constants ruling over reality would be rewritten to better fit whatever mood the Renamon was in. Sometimes, the lynx just felt like lazing about, having an off day where they did absolutely fuck-all of worth, and Spikes was, apparently, incapable of accepting this.
Not unwilling though. Spikes was nothing if not a caring, loving partner; he was just… horny. Endlessly, interminably, incorrigibly horny, in a way that couldn’t be understood, would never be measured, and stood defiant as one of the great mysteries of the couple’s time. Maybe it was his species, maybe it was him in particular, maybe it was the endless amount of modifications done to his Digivice; whatever the case may be, the Rena’s libido was one that never ran dry, and no matter how often the lynx found themselves gasping for breath and practically pleading to be given five minutes to recover, they always ended up bent over and being ploughed into before they could do anything about it.
Well, not that day. Spikes had been bugging them for what felt like hours to test out the “new feature” he’d installed in the digivice, as if it wasn’t just the same old “make muscle bigger” option the lynx had seen a million times before. The same enthusiasm, the same giddy, almost manic smile, the same hopping in place, the same near-childish glee at being able to be horny again… but not that day. The cat wanted to be lazy, they were going to be lazy, and for once, feline instincts were going to win, and in the sleaziest, most underhanded way possible.
Tim, of course, accepted the device when handed it. They, of course, smiled along, nodded too, and made sure Spikes was convinced that his partner was about to make him big, muscular, hunky, and impossibly strong. And they, of course, immediately began looking for a way to revert the function on the digivice itself.
A breach of trust, maybe, but there were some lines the lynx was unwilling to cross, and they expected others to do the same. In Spikes’ case, it was less him needing to be taught a lesson, and more Tim’s own catty streak showing itself, when the thought occurred to them that, rather than simply saying no and shutting off any avenue for fun, they should instead be subversive. And what better way to turn the tables on someone who practically made a living being huge than to make them tiny instead?
Pocket-sized was the word (or words, depending one one’s opinion of the much-ignored hyphen) that was most prominent in Tim’s head: pocket-sized. Small enough that they could bend down, scoop the Rena up, and place him gently inside one of their pockets, to carry him around like a cute little squeaky toy. Hell, maybe they’d even actually squeak, depending on what the shrinking did to his vocal cords; not a priority, but certainly an hilarious mental image.
Spikes, for his part, was entirely unaware of anything being out of the ordinary until after he felt the first commands being executed upon his form, at which point it was too late to do anything about it. With his eyes opened wide, the Renamon had a moment of panic before they noticed Tim’s sly grin, the expression of fear turning into a rolling of the eyes and a comically excessive pout as his body was reduced to a smaller and smaller size with each passing second.
He took it surprisingly well, for someone so used to being big and buff enough to rip doors off walls without even noticing. Admittedly, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away whenever Tim tried to make eye contact made for some truly spectacularly childish moments, but the lynx couldn’t blame him.. Though they could absolutely make the most out of it.
Once the transformation was complete, Spikes, lucky enough to have hopped onto a table before he became too small to even reach the chairs, had been miniaturised to just about six inches tall, his proportions maintained as if he had merely been placed underneath a shrink ray. Preliminary analysis from the Digivice yielded no health abnormalities, no danger to the Renamon’s well-being, and absolutely no impending threats to their safety… and, as such, Tim promptly bent down, grabbed their mate with one hand, and unceremoniously shoved him into one of their shirt pockets.
Throughout, Spikes said and did nothing. He certainly glared with the intensity of a million supernovae, but allowed himself to be captured and jailed in that most embarrassing of prisons: a simple pocket. Tim had to refrain from cackling at how absurd the whole situation was, especially when they managed to get a finger close enough to pat Spikes on the head without the mini-Rena swiping at it indignantly. In the end though, size did matter, and the relative giant almost smushed their tiny companion into the bottom of their impromptu cell, after which the lynx received what they presumed was a playful nibble on the tip of their finger.
In the time it took for Spikes to clamber back up to a standing position, Tim had decided upon something: they were going to go out grocery shopping. They didn’t need to; the pantry was well-stocked, the fridge was full, and they’d just done a water run, so really, it was just a waste of time and money ahead of when said waste had to happen because Spikes wanted his damned donuts and didn’t have them in the house. But Spikes was in Tim’s pocket now, and the feline found this to be exceedingly funny, enough to justify getting off their ass and into some proper clothes, just so they could go out to town and bring the Renamon along.
Well, they said clothes, more like slapping on some sweatpants and calling it a day. No one was going to mind the button-shirt half-casual look in the local supermarket; hell, Tim had gone there half-naked once and no one gave them a second glance. All they needed was to make themselves perfectly smooth down below and everyone just assumed they were wearing some sort of novelty jeans that looked suspiciously like a pair of nude legs.
Still, it was cold, hence why the lynx remembered to pack a thick handkerchief so that Spikes would have something to cover himself with. It was a testament to the Rena’s stubbornness that they still hadn’t spoken, utterly refusing to produce even a single sound beyond the occasional irritated grunt. Simultaneously, it was a test of Tim’s own limits, seeing as the lynx really wanted to make fun of the guy, but knew better than to push their luck; Spikes might genuinely take offence.
Plus, at no point did the Renamon actually try to escape. He could’ve scrambled out of the pocket, could’ve cut his way through, he could even have beamed himself back into the Digivice and forgotten about the whole ordeal, changing himself back to normal with the snap of his fingers. As a last resort, he could’ve simply asked to be put back to normal, and Tim would’ve absolutely done it without a moment’s hesitation… but he didn’t.
Instead, he crossed his arms and pouted, then kept acting like he didn’t want the shrinking to happen instead of doing anything to stop it. But Tim knew better; they’d seen that look before, stamped on the Renamon’s face whenever he was put on the spot and didn’t know how to react. The same look that crossed him when he was accidentally given a pair of tits and seriously didn’t know whether or not to lose his mind over it, or that one time when he was turned into a different species altogether and had to pretend like he wasn’t enjoying it.
The expression of a man who wanted to say that he was having a good time, but was forced into a role where at least part of it meant he couldn’t be so honest. A role where he had to pretend to be there against his will, where he had to go through the motions and keep up the pretence that he was terribly offended, awfully so, and demanded satisfaction from whatever great affront the giant had inflicted upon him. But ultimately, when it came down to it, he still smirked whenever he knew Tim wasn’t looking, still took the opportunity to peek out the top of the pocket to observe the world through this fresh perspective.
It was an interesting experience for someone so used to towering over whatever happened to be around him. From having a barrel chest hard enough to bend steel around to being the size of a large novelty pen and shoved inside a place most people forgot they had on them, it was at the very least a new way of seeing the world around him. He’d never appreciated the full size of his home, nor had he noticed the little details that were so easy to gloss over when one was larger: those cracks on the stairs that formed an odd, face-like pattern, the way the paint splotches on the door to the guest room were still there even after multiple clean-ups, how enormous the floor grates looked when truly considered.
Even the lynx! Spikes being the taller one between the two had always given him a certain sense of physical superiority, like at any point he could just extend his hand and pat the cat on the head, ruffling their fur and flattening their ears, prompting a purr or two; now trapped in a pocket, all he could think about was how much he wanted to feel what it was like to lose himself in their fuzz, to cling on their coat and forget himself in the warmth of it. It was enough to get a blush out of him… as well as another reaction he was happy he was too small to be visible.
Once the lynx was done getting dressed though, the one place left was the wide world outside. It was a daunting thought, and an experience Spikes wasn’t sure he was ready for… not just for the sensory shock either. He knew people around the neighbourhood, and they knew him too; the last thing he needed was to become the local laughing stock after people came up with embarrassing nicknames that sounded like they were directed at his manhood half the time. Call it silly, but Spikes cared enough that he kept his head below the brim of the pocket itself, hoping not to be seen when Tim closed the front door behind them and slowly made his way down the street towards the local grocery store.
At no point did the lynx make any concerted effort to pull him up from where he was. Indeed, with how Tim was acting, Spikes could be forgiven for thinking his mate forgot he was even in there at all; that is, apart from the little things, from the small displays of dubious innocence, like adjusting their pocket when they’d never do it normally, or scratching themselves in a way that would bring their fingers dangerously close to where the Rena was hiding away. Still, nothing as overt as pulling Spikes up; that much he had to do on his own.
Once he did, he found he was no longer outside at all. Maybe his perception of time was warped, or perhaps he’d been so busy snuggling against a handkerchief to avoid being seen that he missed the fact that the grocery store wasn’t that far out. Still, poking up from his hiding spot to see the long lines of shelves, his ears suddenly assaulted by the beeping of cash registers and the background chatter of a hundred plus people buying stuff they may not even need… it was familiar. Familiar enough that he felt his whole body relaxing, though not to the point where he’d be doing anything more than poking the very top of his head out from his little hole.
Spying things from that perspective was fun, in a way Spikes never expected it to be. Everything and everyone looked so radically different that it was almost comical; his perspective was so akin to that of a spy cam that, for a moment, the Rena genuinely expected to be used in some kind of sting operation, before remembering the chain of events that had led him there. And still, throughout it all, Tim refused to acknowledge any of this, carrying on as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Because, Spikes realised, nothing was. Not really, at least; it hadn’t been the first time that Tim had been out shopping with him when he was of a far different size than usual: it was just that, this time around, the difference was inverted. Of course the lynx seemed thoroughly unfazed by any of it, they’d been through far worse; at least this way, Spikes wasn’t toppling shelves whenever he took a step too far in any direction other than directly forward! He was pocket-sized now… and that was fun, sort of.
Still took Spikes a few minutes of consideration before he poked his head out properly, but when he did, he had Tim’s smile there, beaming down at him, and he himself couldn’t help but reply in the same manner. No words were exchanged, but none needed to be: as absurd as the situation was, the two of them had been in far stranger scenarios before; the Renamon being small enough to fit where he was barely ranked in the top ten most bizarre situations the couple had been involved in, so why not just relax and enjoy what they were having there?
The process itself was fully reversible, so it wasn’t as if they had made any commitments there. And even if it weren’t, Spikes could still… well, grow in the conventional manner. Hell, push came to shove, both of them could snap their fingers and reset things back to where they were before the shrinking; really, their repertoire was wide enough that Spikes couldn’t help but wonder why’d been so worried.
Everything was perfectly fine. |
In for a penny, In for a pound “Good morning, honey.”
“Good morning, love.”
“Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes”
“Thanks, I’m just not sure I can eat this morning.”
“Why, is something the matter?”
“It’s nothing, I’m fine, just going to skip breakfast this morning.”
“Are you sure? You look a bit distressed.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. But I think I need some new pants. I must have put on a little weight over the holidays. Everything feels a bit too tight.”
“Hmm, I think we can go shopping next Saturday if you want. Most of your shirts are getting ratty anyway.”
“Crap. There goes the ball game.”
“What? If you need new clothes, we need to go buy them.”
“I just hate shopping. Besides I’m supposed to watch the game with Carl and Eugene.”
“You can record the game, and the guys can spare you for one Saturday. Besides, it’s not like I enjoy shopping. We’ll be in and out in an hour or two if we go early. Then you won’t even have to miss the game.” “You only hate it because you change size every month for a couple of days, and can’t stand that you have to suddenly shop in the plus department because your ass got a bit thick for the weekend.”
“A bit thick? I put on a hundred pounds last time. A bit thick, indeed.”
“So?”
“I only normally weight a hundred and twenty. And don’t you say another word about my weight.”
“Aww, I know, but you fill out so nicely.”
“Quit fidgeting and let me look at that waist band.”
“No, it’s okay. I can manage. Oof. See?”
“I’m calling bullshit. What’s really going on?”
“It’s nothing! I promise.”
“Liar. Your button just nearly took my eye out as it made a mad dash for freedom. Now let me see!”
“Okay, okay! More than a little weight. Hey quit tugging!”
“Um, honey, you’re growing a tail.”
“What? I am not. Oh, hey that tickles.”
“Take those pants off, right now before I have to cut them off you. You’re calling out sick.”
“But I have to give a presentation today!” “Get Carl to do it. You’re not going, and unless I miss my guess, you’re going to be growing tusks in a moment.”
“What?!”
“Did I bite you last time I changed?”
“A little, I think. It’s not like it bled or anything.”
“Shit. I told you to tell me if I bit you. Hell, I told you not to let me bite you.”
“It was just a little nibble.”
“Fuck. I’m contagious during the full moon, remember? God, how many times did I have to remind you not to let me bite you?”
“Was that the full moon? I thought you were just being extra frisky.”
“You know it was. As is tonight. Hell, I’m already sporting my tail. I’m half amazed you haven’t tugged on it.”
“You’re wearing a robe; I can’t see it.”
“That’s never stopped you before.”
“True. Oh, wait, does that mean you’re already sporting the extra titties?”
“They popped in an hour ago. Now, come on focus! Pants off.”
“Can I play with them?”
“In a bit. Now quit it, you need to take this seriously.” “Alright, I am. What do I… ooh what smells so good. There’s just like the greatest smell ever in here.”
“Um, that would be my pheromones, silly. You’re about to find out first hand what this has been like for me all my life.”
“Um…”
“Yeah, take a minute to process it because as soon as that dick of yours turns into a corkscrew, I’m going to demand the best screwing of my life.”
“This doesn’t seem so bad now.”
“Oh, it’s going to take some getting used to, but if you’re going to be half pig tonight, I damned well want the benefits.”
“I guess I can live with that.”
“You’re going to have to. Now come here and give me a kiss.” |
Everyone scoffed and looked down at him when he first took his spot at the table, but now that the contest was coming to an end and half of the contestants had already been knocked out, no one was laughing anymore; if anything, those stares they were giving him were fearful and apprehensive, because no one could really understand how an unassuming, lithe snep like himself could pack away so much food so quickly.
In all fairness to them, they couldn’t possibly have known the depths of Cookie’s ravenous, unending hunger, gnawing at his stomach in such a way that he felt like devouring literally anything he could shove into his mouth. His signing up for the eating contest hadn’t been done out of a desire to win a prize or show off, but to gain access to a veritable banquet of cheap, bountiful food (read: prey) that he could eat without having to actually work for; it was always such a bother when he had to take time out of his day to bring someone home in order to scarf them down, doubly so when they insisted on getting romantic first.
Surrounded on all sides by other furs of much bigger girth than his, the snep’s size belied just how easily he opened his maw wide and consumed the first bun they placed in front of him, a four-foot little thing who barely had time to whimper before Cookie devoured them. While everyone else was approaching the challenge methodically, employing strategies they had honed over several years of practice, Cookie was just indiscriminately shovelling every volunteer the organization brought in into his maw without concern for either their safety or his own; in fact, while others eschewed the use of sauces or condiments, preferring to keep things “natural”, the snep emptied entire bottles of seasoning purely for the flavour and caloric content. Despite this, and despite the sheer size disparity between himself and everyone else, he refused to stand down when everyone expected him to be the first to fall; a dozen other people had given up and he was still going, still in the lead, and still so impossibly hungry.
He barely noticed when the end of the competition was announced, courtesy of the last two other contestants officially giving up after noticing that the snep was three prey ahead of them and showing no signs of even slowing down. While the announcer excitedly informed the crowd that the fair had a brand new champion, Cookie was busying himself rubbing his swollen, round gut, thinking to himself that it felt… empty. That even though he had just eaten about twenty or so prey, that still hadn’t been enough to satisfy that intense need to stuff himself.
His tongue lolled out of his mouth, drool dripped down onto the table and ground, his eyes were narrowed and his vision was tunnelling; despite having delighted himself with so many smaller furs that he was practically unable to walk from how enormous his belly had gotten, Cookie was still hungry, and perhaps more importantly, he was hungrier than he had been before the contest started. It was as if the monstrous void inside of his stomach had only become more ravenous with each mouthful that it was fed, growing unsustainably until there was only one solution for it: the snep needed something more substantial.
The solution to his problem came when the host grabbed his arm to hold it up in a celebratory gesture, something for the crowd to applaud at. What the other cat didn’t know was that, by touching Cookie, he had put himself in just the right place for the snow leopard to react in the only way he really could at that point: with a twist of the wrist, the snep grabbed onto the presenter’s own hand, and with a motion so quick that no one realized it had even happened until seconds later, swallowed everything up to their elbow. From there it was simple enough to bring his hands over their head and push the larger man in deeper, straight down his throat and into his rumbling stomach. The snep had barely gotten half of the host’s body into his own before the crowd reacted, some with panic, others with amazement, and a select few with unabashed arousal; as for Cookie himself, he had only one thought in his mind: it wasn’t enough.
Yes, it was a heavier meal, yes, it was far more substantial and filling than the small rabbit gals they found to act as volunteers; it didn’t really matter that they were all in their late twenties and fully grown, one could only really get so much meat out of a species that barely ever grew over four-and-a-half feet in height. Now, that lynx with the microphone and an annoyingly loud voice, standing at over six feet in height and packing enough muscle to be able to bench press several times his weight? That should’ve been a proper meal, and indeed, were it anyone else there eating the guy, it probably would’ve been… but not for Cookie. Not for the endless eating machine that was the snep, whose one thought once he was done swallowing his biggest meal yet was that he really, really needed seconds, thirds and then a few tenths more.
Luckily for him, there was a whole plethora of snacks waiting for him to stuff himself with just a couple of yards away: the contestants themselves! Though most of them had given up far before the number of prey that Cookie had scarfed down, it was customary to allow them a period of rest in order to digest what they did eat; while normally this meant giving their bodies time to “settle”, in this case it gave the ravenous snep exactly what he needed to sate his hunger… or at least try to, since even he was doubtful it would be enough.
Moving was already difficult as it was, what with him having to drag around a gut carrying several times his body weight in consumed prey, the sounds of sloshing, churning fluids coming from inside it making it difficult for him to focus on anything else; he didn’t really hear the pleas of mercy, nor the panicked cries of those who weren’t ready to have the tables turned on them, nor did he have the mental capacity to care that much about them even if he had. To him, the other contestants were tasty morsels laid out in a line for him to start at one end and stop at the other… and that’s exactly what he did.
It was hard to swallow them, considering how massive most of them were; either so fat that doors were an issue or big and muscular enough that they’d probably be able to bend steel, the one common thread was that it was difficult enough to pick them up even if they weren’t actively resisting. Unfortunately for all of them, Cookie was significantly stronger than his normally thin frame would suggest, and though they might try and momentarily succeed at holding back the inevitable, that was all they could really do: delay it. Stopping it wasn’t an option, not when the snep had made up his mind to scarf down each and every last one of them, and despite him clearly having trouble gulping all of that mass down, and his belly growing outwards so much that he should be immobilized by it, Cookie seemingly got faster the more he ate.
It defied explanation just how quickly he went down the line, his jaw seemingly unhinging with zero difficulty whatsoever, perfectly capable of swallowing even the biggest of the contestants without showing any signs of wearing out or forcing Cookie to stop. Little did anyone there know that the more he consumed, the more he supposedly sated this impossibly deep hunger that he felt, the more it deepened and clawed at him; the snep reached a point where he wanted to whimper whenever he was swallowing someone, because no matter how hard he tried, no matter how big his meal, every mouthful that he pushed down his throat just made him feel emptier. So, obviously, the only thing he could do was keep going and hope for the best.
The remaining competitors were very quickly taken care of. While others might savour their meals, Cookie just wanted them safely packed into his belly as soon as he could, bloating himself out with those predators-turned-prey until he should, by all means, be unable to walk. His colossal belly was slung out in front of him, rumbling and churning with its still-living, writhing contents, the sounds of sloshing becoming stronger with each person he threw in there; soon enough, the acids would begin their work and all of that mass would be transferred over to him, though in what way he didn’t really know. Frankly, he didn’t even care, as the only thing he had left in his mind to motivate him was making that gut more distended and stuffed with… surprisingly eager snacks, once he came to think about it.
While Cookie was busying himself with his former competition, most of the people in the audience had wisely decided to start running away before they were next on the meal plan; having seen just what the snow leopard was capable of, they correctly deduced that they’d stand no chance against him, because if he could blitz towards someone twice as tall as them and wrestle them into his maw despite being more belly than snep, then what hope did they have to survive? A few, however, had taken the exact opposite approach, since after all, they were there to watch a vore contest, and weren’t really shy about enjoying it; it was a matter of probability really, that at least a small portion of those attending would have prey fantasies themselves, and now that they were given such an overwhelmingly powerful predator to throw themselves at, their instincts began to kick in. Thus, as soon as Cookie was done taking care of the former contestants and began to turn towards the audience, by that point clearly struggling to move his absolutely gigantic, swollen stomach from side to side, he realized that he wouldn’t have to put in any effort whatsoever to chase after more snacks.
They would just come to him instead.
A whole line of prey of varying shapes and sizes had formed in front of him, all them begging to be the next one to be devoured, some even trying to cut through to be chosen first. For the snep, the sudden and inexplicable surge of volunteers was difficult to understand at first, but as soon as he heard his stomach growl and demand more sustenance, he chose not to question it; better to fill himself up and worry about the consequences later. Besides, this meant he could sit his ass down on the stage, open his mouth and let everyone else do the hard work, giving him some much needed time to rest.
Time that quickly began to elongate and warp as the queue of eager prey seemed positively endless. Every time Cookie opened his eyes he could swear it was just getting longer, no matter how many of them he consumed, and that he could even see the line at all after having eaten so many of them that his gut was making the wooden boards creak from the weight was nothing short of miraculous. Big and small, tall and short, fat and lanky, they all climbed onto him in their rush to be the snep’s next big meal, and all Cookie had to do was give them a small push just to make sure they didn’t get stuck midway down his throat. By the end, after what felt like hours, he was left holding a gut so swollen that he could see nothing else.
His ears were filled by the low, churning sloshes of the acids inside of his stomach breaking his meals down. By that point, there were just so many of them in there that the volunteers outnumbered the ones he’d taken without asking, but the wriggling had only gotten worse; he couldn’t help but smile as he realized the reason for this, chuckling at the sheer depravity of all those little snacks enjoying their last moments as they were slowly turned into extra mass for their predator’s body… mass that began to settle all throughout his body in about the same rate as it was broken down and absorbed.
Cookie had never had the opportunity to indulge himself that hard, so he lacked the kind of perspective needed to really know what would even happen to him in the end. He had no clue what all that food would do, hence why he was incredibly surprised when he saw his eyesight begin to rise towards the top of his belly’s curvature; he wasn’t merely shrinking his stomach down as he gradually went through his meals, he was growing, and at quite the fast pace as well judging from the way his field of view was changing!
Within a few short minutes of having eaten his last snack, the top of his head was already bumping against the top of the stage, and a couple minutes more he was hunching over just to avoid breaking through it, all while his feet had spilled over from the edge and plowed through the first few lines of chairs. By that point, there was no one there to watch, though there were still plenty of onlookers off in the distance trying to figure out just what in blazes was going on… a question that would be answered as soon as the snow leopard’s belly shrunk by a couple of extra feet, and the mass infusion gave him enough of a boost to have him break free of the metallic structure surrounding him.
Bits and pieces of bent steel flew in every direction, Cookie’s head emerging from the wreckage as he let loose a yowl-cum-roar of utmost bliss and satisfaction, his whole body collapsing backwards and causing a small seismic tremor from how absolutely enormous it was. Ten feet had been easily cleared, then twenty and approaching on thirty as that gigantic belly of his carried on flattening out as it went through the immense backlog of prey he still had in there. His paws dug deep grooves into the ground as his feet were pushed outwards, his back and head doing the same as more and more size was poured into his frame, everyone who was still looking at him from afar deciding it’d be a great idea at that time to turn around, start running, and then not stop until they were several miles away.
And they’d need it. Because, even after his stomach was emptied, even after his gut returned to normal, even after he was so gigantic that he could easily stomp the entire contest site flat with a single paw, Cookie still wasn’t satisfied. He was still hungry.
And he was going to do something about that. |
He was almost certain that the moment he walked into the airport, he was going to have his bags checked and everything he took from that temple reappropriated by the state, but hey, he might as well give it a try. He’d gotten that far already, so why not go all the way and finish what he started?
He was already in for falsifying travel permits and archeology credentials, not to mention the copious amount of lying that went into convincing a handful of rich investors to bankroll an “expedition” that was little more than a way for him to sate his curiosity, so as far as the lynx was concerned, in for a penny, in for a pound. With his entire team waiting on the outside, baking underneath the summer sun, Hyper had been the only one who dared to actually enter the temple itself; local superstition ascribed a great deal of unpleasant powers to that place, to say nothing of all the curses it supposedly had and was more than happy to lay upon any who entered without the proper rituals.
Many tried to dissuade him from entering, but the feline didn’t particularly care about some random pseudohistorical accounts that were most likely just the result of cocksure explorers not abiding by proper safety protocol. Granted, it wasn’t as if he was paying much more attention himself, but the lynx was reasonably sure he could get through the temple complex without ending up squashed against a wall or pierced by long-rusted spear tips. Indeed, the deeper he went, the more he came to realize that the whole place was in a dreadful state of disrepair; there were entire trap mechanisms that were very likely put in place to keep would-be intruders out, but with no one to maintain them, the centuries of isolation and abandonment in the middle of the jungle had taken their toll, leaving most of the gears and pressure plates completely unusable.
Thanking his lucky stars for such a break, Hyper moved further in, the hallways narrowing and the ceiling coming closer to him as his surroundings seemed to shrink the closer he came to what he assumed was the center of the temple itself; mercifully, the main sanctum opened up far more widely than even the entrance had, though it, like most of the site, was drenched in darkness from the complete lack of any natural sunlight. There were spots on the walls that were clearly designed to take torches or other sources of light, but the lynx had to make do with a flashlight he kept strapped to his belt, giving him a forward-facing cone of illumination that veered wildly from side to side whenever he took a step; on entering the central chamber, however, Hyper figured it’d be best to take it into his hand so he could more thoroughly analyze his surroundings, at which point he couldn’t help but grimace at how utterly mundane the whole thing looked.
For an abandoned temple in what used to have been the territory of one of the more powerful nations in that region’s history, it really was… drab. No gold anywhere, not even as simple foil, no gemstones, nothing but bas reliefs that, while certainly interesting to look at and record for posterity, would only be so to someone who actually gave a damn about the temple’s historical value. Hyper, however, was most certainly not one of these people, nor was he at all interested in discovering whether or not the “missing dynasty” hypothesis was correct; he was there for the treasure, and given the complete lack of any of it, it was all he could do to avoid cursing up a storm.
So much time, money and respectability thrown down the drain chasing down rumours and what he assumed to have been trustworthy leads, only for him to end up in the central chamber of some random step pyramid in the middle of the bloody jungle in the ass end of nowhere, swerving a flashlight from side to side and catching absolutely nothing of interest in the glare. It would’ve been hilarious if he hadn’t been the one the joke was made at the expense of, and for a few horrible moments, Hyper genuinely felt like letting out a scream just to get that emotional turmoil bubbling inside of him to calm down for even a second… until he caught a glimmer off the corner of his eye.
It was barely there, enough that he almost ignored it, but swinging the flashlight back where it had just been pointed at revealed two small alcoves built into one of the walls, ones that, for once, weren’t empty like the rest of the chamber. It was faint, but it was there: the glitter of gold. His eyes wide open, Hyper rushed forward, practically tripping on himself in his overwhelming desire to actually recoup some of the investments made, only to find that both of the items he’d spotted, a pair of golden basins, were sitting on small pressure plates. The trap was simple, and still the lynx couldn’t really bring himself to care; every other mechanism in the temple had long-since stopped working, so even if he was meant to choose wisely, he could probably afford to just take both of those things and nothing would really happen.
In fact, that was exactly what he did: on picking up one basin, the decrepit pressure plate didn’t budge even a fraction of an inch, letting him take the second one with absolutely no hassle at all. It was only when he turned around to head to the exit that anything of note happened, with his entire body locking up so unexpectedly that he dropped both basins, which ended up falling on the floor and shattering into dozens of pieces each. What was worse, the lynx couldn’t even wail in anguish, given that he had apparently lost control over his own muscles; instead, he was forced to stand there, immobile, feeling as his body temperature rose sharply and a sense of pressure built up inside of his chest, like his lungs were being pumped full of air despite him not even breathing.
It was painful, so much so that the lynx’s main priority at that point was finding a way to be able to scream, that his team might hopefully hear him… but, at the same time, something like that would only confirm their suspicions that the whole place was cursed, leading to them most likely abandoning their expedition leader to his fate to save their own hides. He was going to die there, he was certain of it, doubly so when he managed to look down at himself and noticed that he was actually bloating somehow; what he had initially chosen to assume was just a trick of the light turned out to be very, very real once his form bulged out enough that it intruded upon the bright beam protruding from the dropped flashlight, revealing that he was blowing up like a balloon!
The sense of pressure refused to abate as well; in fact, it got worse over time, which, if his eyes weren’t deceiving him, coincided with his bloating taking place even quicker, leaving him with the dreadful realization that… that was it. In a few moments, he was going to pop, an overinflated ball pricked by a needle, and there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it. The thought that it might just be a hallucination didn’t cross through his mind, because really, what cause would there be for one? He hadn’t eaten anything that could’ve caused it, and the timing was far too coincidental; whatever the curse was, it was definitely real, and his idiotic arse had just stumbled onto it despite (what he believed were) his best efforts.
At least he could go out smiling, knowing that he was right about there being treasure; it was completely ruined and no one would be able to pick it up without turning into an organic balloon, but it was there, and he did reach it… though, fat lot of good that did him in the end. The pressure kept rising, the size of his bloated form increasing again and again, not so much growing as it was filling, though with what the lynx couldn’t really tell: was it air, keeping him quite literally pressurized? Was he actually becoming fatter, and simply getting buried underneath his heft? Was it a case of his insides being filled with molten gold as punishment for trespassing and thievery, hence why he felt so hot? Perhaps all three, as a triple whammy on the part of whoever built that temple in the first place; Hyper didn’t know, didn’t care to know, because after a certain point, he began realizing that something was missing: the pop.
He was supposed to explode, at least given everything he knew about biology; with his body being so immensely inflated, he should have gone boom quite a while ago, judging by how much of the ground he could feel underneath him. Instead, however, it felt as if the growth had actually slowed down, only to eventually stop altogether, leaving him stuck as an immense, overgrown ball of whatever it was he was filled with, unable to move, call for help, or even so much as waddle from side to side. Was this the ultimate punishment for trying to take the artifacts? For him to be left there, slowly to starve while stuck thanks to the literal weight of his gluttony and avarice? It was certainly fitting from a thematic perspective, though the lynx had no idea why anyone would go to those lengths just to prove a point to someone who was supposed to be killed anyway… unless he wasn’t fated to die?
Surely, if the idea was to keep any trespasser from taking the golden basins, then the effect wouldn’t be delayed to the point where said basins would inevitably end up falling on the ground after whoever stole them got hit by the full power of the curse; surely, if the idea was to keep those things safe, the curse itself would’ve been placed elsewhere, far away from the idols themselves. Plus, now that things had a chance to simmer down, Hyper didn’t feel all that bad, actually; it felt ridiculous to think in those terms, but now that the expansion itself had stopped, he was actually… calm, soothed even, almost as if he weren’t a massive ball of inflated lynx unable to move a muscle.
It wasn’t until several minutes later, when the weight of the silence all around him made Hyper come to the conclusion that he was absolutely alone in there and that the whole team had abandoned him, that something changed: his belly rumbled. Or rather, his immense self did so, considering it was hard to tell where his gut ended and everywhere else began; he was a ball, yes, but judging by what he was feeling, it was unlikely he’d be one for much longer, because rather than a second run of inflation, rather than the sensation of being stuffed further, Hyper instead felt himself shrinking. He wanted to scream his head off, shouting at the heavens that if they intended to curse him, then they had failed, but chose not to do so on the off-chance that this was all part of the plan; either that, or doing so might lead to the heavens hearing him, which would be less than useful if he was, indeed, escaping from the grip of the curse.
Fate would not be so kind on him, however, for the lynx was not destined to merely go back to normal; he might’ve thought so, at least initially, given that his body was just flat-out becoming smaller: his arms were no longer buried by an expanded midriff, he could feel his legs wriggling again, and even the vast ocean of fuzz around him began to take on a more recognizable shape, rather than being one huge ball of lynx. But there was something else mixed into it, sensations that he didn’t recognize, yet insisted on intruding upon the shrinking process, and it wouldn’t be until Hyper saw the ground around him begin to fall away that he realized something was definitely off about the whole thing.
For a moment, he believed he was bloating again, that time in a more upwards direction, but as his body continued to reshape itself, it became clear that he was actually becoming taller; not just that, but his weight was getting worse as well, as rather than him shedding all the pounds he gained, they seemed to be shifting around in order to leave him with a more functional form, rather than just a slimmer one. It didn’t occur to Hyper that the curse might’ve not been a curse at all, that what he was going through wasn’t a punishment, but rather a reward for reaching where others hadn’t, for having the courage to do what others did not. Granted, it was somewhat difficult to see it as such when he was stuck staring down at his muzzle elongating until he could see it in front of him, to the point where he had to raise his hands to touch it… and promptly felt something long, muscular, and definitely not feline dangling from his face.
It took him a bit before he allowed the realization to filter through, at which point he let out a shocked yelp that turned into a trumpeting midway through, courtesy of his brand new trunk! His hands flew wildly from one end of his body to the other after that, taking stock of all the changes his subconscious told him should be there, yet the no-longer-lynx insisted shouldn’t exist: the broader and wider ears, the pudgy, bloated gut that nonetheless didn’t impair his movement, the fact that instead of paws he now seemed to have a pair of elephant’s feet, not to mention his tail having grown spindly with a tiny tuft of hair at the end. Before he even knew it, the transformation had wrapped up, no matter how many times he begged whoever would listen for it to turn back around.
Hyper didn’t have access to a mirror, but he hardly needed one with how sensitive his body still was; he could feel every inch of it, raw and new, reformed and reshaped into whatever form that temple’s god possessed… either that, or as some long-forgotten practical joke on the part of whoever left those damn basins there to begin with. Rushing over to the broken artifacts didn’t do anything either; even if putting them back would fix the transformation, they had been left shattered so thoroughly that it would take more than just superglue to return them to pristine condition.
He was stuck as an elephant, at least for the foreseeable future. And as he looked to the side, at the tiny little entrance leading into the corridors and the outside world, Hyper gulped.
It was going to be a long way out. |
It was always such a chore to get everyone ready for a night out that it served as its own incentive not to prepare anything special at all; when they had to go through hours of pre-departure check-ups just to make sure they didn’t cause a scene when they got to their destination, it really made the older bun wonder whether it wouldn’t be better to just splurge out on take-out and call it a day. Certainly wasn’t made any better by her son having decided to just not be there for most of the preparations either; if he thought he could get away from everything by just skipping the proceedings, he was dead wrong.
Contrary to what the momma bun thought however, there was nothing malicious about Cream not being there in time for her to check if his productivity was low enough and his nuts were properly emptied; it just so happened that he got distracted getting out of work and was unfortunately stuck emptying out in a public restroom in order to keep himself from making a scene elsewhere. Didn’t really help that he effectively clogged up every single toilet and sink in there, but at least the damage was contained to one single room rather than spread out across a whole avenue; besides, it was a restroom, it was supposed to be cleaned on a regular basis, and it wasn’t as if hypers weren’t a fact of life.
It was, however, a testament to his virility that by the time he was climbing up the stairs to their family home, he could already feel the weight mounting between his legs. It was an oddly productive day, so much so that he’d gone through a whole condom pack at work and still had to borrow a few from the other hypers in the office, and this could only mean one thing: more draining would be needed at home.
The poor thing had completely forgotten about their plans to head out for dinner that day, being slightly too busy trying not to lose his mind completely whenever he stuffed another quadruple-XL-sized rubber and turned it into an almost-bursting plastic blimp; that, and the fact that the elevator was broken, so by the time he even reached the front door of the apartment, he had to stop to collect himself.
It was impressive how his balls were already full enough to reach the ground, straining his short’s ability to hold onto them; his twin cocks were firmly out for everyone to see though, and given their size, would probably need to be angled down in order to fit through the opening. With his eyes already glazing over and the tip of his tongue desperate to loll out of an open mouth, Cream turned the key and walked inside, only to be met with his family, standing there in the living room staring at him.
For a moment, he wondered why exactly his mother and two sisters were all dressed up like they were supposed to go somewhere, but the time it took for him to push his shafts down enough for them to fit through the door was enough for the sight to jog his memory: why of course, they were meant to go somewhere, and he’d just up and decided to have a bad day for that. Not his fault, honestly, and as soon as the other three women in the room saw him, they immediately realized that the poor bun really wasn’t to blame for being tardy; he’d just had a productive day, was all.
“Sorry I’m late,” Cream sighed as he closed the door behind him, throwing his coat onto the ground and angling his cocks further down towards the three women in front of him, “seriously miscalculated how full I got, did I miss something?”
“Nothing important,” Anise replied, drawing a very indignant stare from their mother; Cream’s sister casually pulled off her own pants to reveal a single shaft of her own, undoing her shirt while she was at it as well, “need some help draining out?”
“If you wouldn’t mind” - Cream instantly took advantage of the opportunity to angle one of his rods directly towards that of his sister’s, unceremoniously shoving his tip into hers and pushing forward until the other bun’s length was seriously bulged out by his own - “Sorry for ruining everything, but you know what it’s like.”
All three women scoffed simultaneously before springing into action, taking up positions like they usually did; disregarding their clothing completely, both Pol and Anise each brought one of their breasts to bear on their brother’s mouth, allowing the other one to hang freely and have its contents leak onto the ground. Cream himself, sensing an opportunity, finally allowed his body to relax, releasing a whole cloud of musk that they’d been holding onto for the whole day. This had the quite fortunate side-effect of lowering the three bun gals’ inhibitions even more, and before anyone knew it, Cream’s mom, Nia, had already opened her mouth wide and invited her son’s free shaft into it.
For anyone else, this sudden turn of events might’ve been harsh enough to cause whiplash, but it was par for the course in the Etcher household; if not for Cream, then for either of the three gals servicing him, because their unique biology ensured that when one of them had a bad day, that was instantly everyone else’s problem as well. It wasn’t for nothing that they had drains installed everywhere in their home, nor that their domicile had its own plumbing system separate from the rest of the building’s; if they hadn’t received those amenities, the entire structure would be constantly flooded on a regular basis, and while heavily-transformative milk might be something that people grew to love (and quite literally so), having runaway hyper-inducement fluids running about uncontrolled was in no one’s best interests.
Thankfully, the effects they had on the buns themselves were entirely temporary, owing to their genetic make-up, but no less potent; it didn’t take long before Pol and Anise’s breasts began to grow far in excess of their ability to hold them up, their own lactic production skyrocketing as they struggled to feed Cream’s endless desire for more. The sole male bun made sure to milk those two for all they were worth, not only bringing his hands up to help massage the two tits he had stuck in his mouth, but having his body alter itself in order to make good use of the ones that weren’t actively pouring a waterfall of sweet milk down his throat.
Down below, his bushy little tail elongated until it reached the ground, growing several feet in length before developing a seam that ran all the way from the tip to its base; seconds later, it had split into two identical copies, both of which had their ends fatten up into a large ball, almost like raw mass was being deposited into them via a pump. Wouldn’t take long before the far ends of his tails opened up to reveal some kind of mouth, two tailmaws that immediately swung around to latch themselves onto Pol and Anise’s free and hanging breasts, clamping themselves shut tightly around their leaking nipples. Three mouths, four faucets of milk, and already Cream felt like he could die happy.
It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows though. While him and his sisters were busying themselves milking and being milked for all they were worth, someone had to do the hard work of actually draining the bun out, and as usual that task fell squarely on Nia… not that the momma bun really minded; it gave her full access to a cock that never seemed to run out of spunk, after all, not to mention the accompanying twin sets of cum factories that she could already hear gurgling loudly enough to make her blush furiously. Not an easy feat, considering the sort of things that household was used for on a regular basis.
With one of Cream’s dicks firmly lodged inside that of his sister Anise’s, the two of them did very little beyond trade volume and size; with their bodies already in full flow, it was very much a case of one of them emptying out in the other, who would then pay back the favour and start the whole process all over again. With their bodies being the way that they were, each time this current of cum was exchanged between them it grew bigger and thicker, and before long both of their nuts were easily doubling up in size each time before emptying out, a multiplication factor that would only get worse with time. This left only one avenue to vent all of that excess pressure: the one shaft of Cream’s that was stuck down Nia’s throat.
The momma bun had an almost supernatural ability to take loads and keep begging for more, with her body doing most of the work in getting rid of all that protein by reprocessing it into yet more momma bun. There used to be a time in which she was person-sized, and not the absolute behemoth of curves that she was in present day; years of having to take care of her adult children’s needs had ensured that her body had become a monument to fertility, and not a single day went by that she didn’t clog something up with how much milk she produced on a regular basis, or at least ended up hip-checking something so hard that it broke, usually a doorframe.
On the other hand, this had given her enough expertise to be able to handle a rod the size of Cream’s with a sort of ease that bordered on the unreasonable, even when most of her throat was cockmeat by mass and she could barely even breathe; it was the only way she could avoid a disastrous growthsplosion, and it just so happened that thanks to her son and one of her daughters being stuck inside one another, what she was receiving was an unholy and extremely powerful mix of both of their seeds, leading to quite a bit of belly swelling within just a few seconds of her starting to gulp down the constant loads. Cream and Anise swapped spunks, and some of it would eventually be vented out into Nia, who had effectively become a living pressure release valve.
Not much better than her two daughters, both of which were having a hard time dealing with all the milk they were making. It was always a problem with them, given that the more aroused they became, the more they produced, inevitably leading down to a point where, no matter how hard Cream’s mouth or tailmaws emptied them out, it simply wasn’t enough to deal with all of the lactic production. How long it took before their tits were too big for them to stand was the only variable, because they would end up kneeling on the ground unable to move, pinning their brother down as the amount of milk draining into his body grew higher and higher… thus leading to Cream making good use of it in the only way he could: increasing his own productivity.
It was a vicious cycle, and one that would only end when the whole group reached climax; until it did though, all it accomplished was making the male bun’s four nuts output at an increasingly accelerated rate, gallons upon gallons more multiplying within those things until even Anise’s body couldn’t handle it anymore. No matter how hard the herm bun tried to keep the cycle where she and her brother took turns filling the other up, her own loads weren’t powerful enough to face up to both the intensity and frequency of her brother’s, and soon enough she was being continuously filled by both Cream’s endless stream and her own backed-up spunk.
Wouldn’t take long before she felt her nuts slam into the ground and start riding up her back at an alarming rate, and from there it was a quick and easy jaunt to have some of that protein shoot right back up into her tits and double up her milkiness; within just a couple of minutes, she was trapped between a body-sized bust on one side, and a similarly enormous pair of cumtanks on the other.
As for Nia, all she could really do was keep working on the shaft she had access to and hope to the heavens above that she’d be able to bring her son to some semblance of climax before the whole house was flooded; the ground was already coated in a half-inch thick layer of fluids, so if she didn’t get it done soon, the whole building was going to be cleaning up the stairwell for the next two days or so. Luckily for everyone involved though, a whole day of edging himself, coupled with having three lovely, gorgeous beauties servicing him with such immense gusto, was more than enough to drive Cream to the very edge, at which point he gleefully jumped off; he’d spent so long pent up that all he really wanted was to get it over with, so as soon as he opened his eyes and saw what was happening… well…
Pol, to his left, looking perfectly normal apart from each of her tits being so stuffed that it was about as big as the rest of her. Anise, to his right, with a rack so massive that each milktank alone was the size of her sister’s entire body, tits and all, with nuts to match. And finally Nia, out in front of him, already blimped out by his own endless output and looking ready to double up on her already outrageous curves; how could he not orgasm on the spot, knowing he had such wonderful lovers to share the moment with?
Sadly, everyone present massively underestimated just how pent up the poor bun was. Anyone standing outside their front door would be treated to a perfectly regular opening in one second, and then a cloud of atomized splinters in the other, followed by a spurt of cum so powerful that it might as well be a tidal wave, a whole pool’s worth of jizz barreling out from inside the Etcher household at such a high speed that it managed to smash through the elevator in the landing and still end up flying off the building after piercing the outer walls… and didn’t really stop until there was a waterfall (cumfall?) going all the way down to the ground floor, with flooding alarms going off in every apartment in the building. Within the buns’ home, a several-inch-thick layer of creamy white covered everything, with a formless mass in the middle indicating where all four of the hypers were, the shape heaving up and down as all of the Etchers struggled to breathe after such an explosive climax.
Any plans to do with going out for dinner had been wiped clean from their minds, but that was perfectly fine. This sort of thing was routine.
And they still had round two to go. |
“I am reasonably certain this is not a good idea and we should probably not go ahead with it,” Tim said, just as they were getting ready to turn the Digivice on and make sure the updates were patched in, “I mean, I’m pretty sure it’ll work, but are you absolutely convinced you need this?”
“Not at all!” Spikes replied cheerfully, already flexing his non-existent muscles, “But I want it anyway!”
The lynx sighed, wrapping up the final preparations for the show the two had been preparing for the last two or so weeks. Fiddling with the electronics on that thing was, as usual, somewhere between “hazardous” and “actively suicidal”, and yet for some reason the couple found themselves constantly doing it for the sake of sating the Rena’s capricious desires. To be fair, the results were usually good enough that it justified the hassle, but Tim couldn’t help but shake the feeling that their luck was going to run out someday soon.
On that particular occasion, Spikes had requested that his Digivice be modified so that he could transfer data from the physical world into his body rather than relying on his homeworld for any upgrades. The stated intent was to minimize the hassle when the two wanted to “experiment” with sizes and proportions, but they both knew the real reason was so he could go overboard and utterly destroy their bedroom the next time they got frisky together; wouldn’t be the first time, won’t be the last, and despite all the pretend protestations, the feline still went ahead and did it anyway, secretly hoping this next foray into the realms of the obscenely excessive would be even greater than the last.
With a melodramatic sigh, they turned the device on and threw it back at Spikes, knowing better than to be anywhere near ground zero when the testing began. The Renamon, though he much preferred it when their partner stuck around, was polite enough not to say anything, instead focusing on trying out what he had in mind; the idea was that, if he could transfer data from regular sources in the physical world, then surely it would be simple enough to rely on his unique “biology”, if it could even be called as such, to transform anything he consumed into its constituent information. Now, admittedly, none of this made sense, but the last time he cooked up some brainless conjecture like that, both he and Tim ended up having to reboot the entirety of existence after the exponentials he stacked on himself went a bit crazy; comparatively, eating a blender to gain larger pecs sounded downright sane.
He wanted to start off simple though, with something that wouldn’t sour his taste for the rest of the day should it go wrong; to that end, he had just the thing: a bundle of chopsticks. They were soft enough that he could chew on them and slowly whittle them down, and close enough to his dreadful habit of chomping on pencils that it wouldn’t be too bad to take its logical conclusion. It was still slightly odd to pick up a packet of the damned things knowing he wasn’t just going to roll them around in his mouth for an hour before getting tired of them, plus it was difficult to shove all of the bits into his mouth even after he snapped the bundle in half, but everything took a turn for the better once he managed to snap his jaw shut. It was as if the pieces of wood just weren’t there at all, replaced by an indistinct blob of foodstuff that was both entirely tasteless and seemed more fluid than anything. He could chew on it, and indeed he did, but it didn’t feel like gnawing on wood so much as… well, he didn’t even know what it was.
But it was easy to swallow. And as soon as he did so, he felt warm, incredibly warm, followed by… his biceps becoming ever so slightly bigger, just barely enough for him to notice and not nearly to the degree where anyone else would. It was disappointing in terms of results, but considering the fact that it was a proof of concept, Spikes couldn’t be giddier than he was at that exact moment. Immediately he reached for the first thing he could a see, a bowl of fruit the two kept and barely ever used; the Rena threw the actual food onto the ground before taking a huge bite out of the ceramic, his teeth somehow remaining unbroken despite the hardness of what he was chomping on, before closing his mouth and feeling the same transformation take place inside of it: where once was a hard slab, now was an undifferentiated glob of pseudostuff that tasted of nothing and was about as malleable as melted caramel, making it delightfully easy to swallow down without thinking twice.
This carried on for… a while. The kitchen was filled with objects he could pick up and devour, from the utterly mundane, like all the cutlery, to genuinely useful appliances they would miss later, like the telephone and parts of the microwave’s internal electronics. Every bite brought him one step closer to his ideal self, one inch larger or thicker or more muscular, until his mouth, after a while much larger than it had been initially, could start taking chunks out of larger things, leading to a self-imposed vicious cycle that ended up with Spikes openly biting entire pieces out of the refrigerator right after he devoured the blender in a single gulp. Before long, Spikes felt his back bump against the ceiling, simultaneously being made aware of just massive it was; he took a moment to look down at himself, only to then notice how broad his torso had become, how well-defined and bulging his pecs were, hell, how even his legs had turned into girthy logs of muscle mass that took up whole doorframes by themselves. His head was sinking into his neckbulk, and soon he wouldn’t even be able to see past his muscles out in front.
So obviously, he had to keep eating.
Whatever was left of the fridge was quickly lifted up and plunged into his maw, resulting in a growth spurt that nearly had him break through the roof, and marking the end of their kitchen as a functional room. All that was left was taking care of the cupboards and counters, which was easy enough now that Spikes could physically rip them off the walls and crush them into sawdust and broken boards before gorging himself on what remained. Without much effort, the whole room was emptied out, leaving only the walls, ceiling, floor, and an extremely beefy Renamon that could barely move his arms without his bulk creaking all over the place. Naturally, this wasn’t nearly enough, prompting Spikes to yank the door itself off its hinges and stuff it down his gullet, before smashing his way through the wall in order to make seconds out of the rubble and dust. Once that was settled, it was time for the living room to be consumed; given that the lynx steadfastly refused to leave their bedroom, Spikes decided to leave it for last, already imagining how great it would be to burst into it looking like he’d just injected a year’s supply of steroids into his body. Tim was sure to give him what he wanted then… which at that point was getting off the bed so that Spikes could eat it.
The upholstery didn’t last nearly as long as the kitchen appliances, though admittedly they put up far more resistance individually than even the fridge did. The springs in particular were tricky to get around, seeing as they kept some of their… springiness… even in their goop form, but he managed by the end. It was fun, being able to lift his couch with a single hand and shove it into his gullet, all while bloating in every direction now that he could simply swallow down the mass from the objects he consumed, not needing to worry about chewing or anything as silly as breathing. The TV was broken in half like a chocolate bar and bitten off in large slabs, the wiring slurped up like spaghetti while the rubble produced by ripping it off the wall served as a perfect finisher, a sprinkle of sugar atop a delicious ice-cream, if one will. Even the walls weren’t safe anymore, with the Rena plunging his hand into them and removing bite-sized chunks for him to nibble on, until the roof began to groan as it was ready to cave in.
Sensing an opportunity, Spikes found the lowermost point, placed his head underneath it and then opened his mouth, patiently waiting for the attic to come crashing down into his throat. He didn’t have to wait for long, though the amount of clean-up required thanks to how much had crashed around his head gave him something to do afterwards; at least he was in sunlight again, just tall enough that he could see over the top of his house, and yet already too bulky to actually do it. His neck alone was so swollen that it was starting to swallow his head, with the Rena’s pecs being so tightly packed with sinew and muscle that it was a wonder how he even kept his balance. Spikes’ arms too were honed to perfection, even if his range of motion was limited; trying to swivel those logs around too much caused a lot of hard-to-ignore rubbing, at which point his ability to keep focused was… affected, to say the least.
Now that the house was ready to be demolished, however, it was easy enough to turn around, grab a large piece of it and then rip it off its foundations, trailing debris all throughout the air as whole divisions were raised above his head and then dropped onto the valley created by his neckbulk, giving the Renamon all the time in the world to slowly chomp down on the concrete, glass and whatever else happened to make up the structure, all while his body continue to swell outwards at an alarming pace. Every slice of the house made it easier to rip out the next one, and it didn’t take long before the only one left was his bedroom, their bedroom, inside which Tim was still pretending that things were perfectly fine. The lynx had been hearing all of the commotion, yes, but chose to pretend that things were exactly as they were, the screams of people outside weren’t really there, and the earthquakes caused by each of their Rena’s footsteps were a perfectly natural occurrence for that time of year. Really, they were surprised they hadn’t come sooner.
Unfortunately for Spikes, he was a bit too big to properly apply the finesse required to gently remove the bit of ceiling that still clung to the top of their bedroom; he had to exercise caution not to just rip the whole thing off the ground, let alone selectively destroy parts of it! It took until he was done with the shingles to truly appreciate just what was going on though. Why was he worrying so much? It wouldn’t be the first time he and Tim had gone down that route before, and the cat could always reform themselves if they truly wanted to. Besides, they hadn’t moved an inch ever since the Renamon began his rampage through their house, so clearly they didn’t mind having created yet another data-beast of immense proportions; therefore, it stood to reason that they’d be perfectly fine with taking an extended ride down Spikes’ gullet.
It was all so simple that he almost slapped his forehead for not having thought about it before; almost, because there was no way his hands would ever reach his head now that there was so much musculature in the way. With a chuckle, he lifted their bedroom, the last remaining part of their home that hadn’t yet been devoured, and tilted it into the vast drain that was the muscle mass around his neck, forcing all of its contents down and down into his waiting mouth, all of them, lynx included, handily transformed into something that was far easier to digest and add to his growing mass. Once that was done, all he had to do was crush the walls themselves and sprinkle the rubble onto his face, licking his lips as he felt the final burst of size hit him in every direction at once.
It was only after he was “done” with it that he realized he made a horrible mistake, because obviously there was no way Tim was going to take that transgression lying down. The lynx wasn’t going to just leave his body, but they had no incentive to sit there and do nothing either; Spikes therefore had no choice but to accept his face, when a massive wave of energy, seemingly appearing from nowhere, slammed into him all at once, his whole body feeling like it was about to burst from how little it could contain it. He felt like a balloon, overinflated and ready to pop, and if not for his inherently elastic nature, he wasn’t sure whether that wouldn’t have been a possibility!
Instead, he got to reap the benefits from being a data creature, especially one as corrupted as he was. Muscles packed onto muscles, multiplying exponents stacked unto themselves, height skyrocketing towards the lower cloud layer, all of it powered by an internal furnace emanating from where the lynx refused to be reprocessed into more “regular” mass. An endless wellspring of power forced the Rena’s body to continuously adapt, growing bigger, bigger, bigger until he was barrelling through the neighborhood, only helping to worsen the situation by way of absorbing those houses as well! Debris flew in every direction before being taken in by some part of Spikes’ body as it expanded outwards, the ground cracking underneath his weight, until finally, some ten amazing minutes later, the spurt was over, and the Renamon’s growth petered down until it stopped… or at least slowed down enough that he could lie back and get some much needed rest.
Spikes couldn’t feel Tim anywhere inside of him, but he knew the lynx would come back soon enough; they always did. It was just a matter of time and waiting to see how much their Rena hubby got to enjoy himself with the gifts devouring the cat had given him, which in his case was a body so egregiously overengorged with muscle mass that it was almost comical. Almost being the keyword, for even Spikes couldn’t picture or look at himself without feeling a pressing need to bring both hands between his legs for a long series of exploratory sessions.
Still, he had his time to recover, and now he was ready to take on the rest of the world. After all, his transformation wasn’t complete yet.
He was still hungry. |
Ah, beloved, the hour grows late, and you grow weary. Do not deny it, dearest, for my eyes are keen and can see each and every one of your mortal frailties. If it pleases you, I shall tell you of what you ask. But remember there are things that are better off being unknown. There are things out there in the planes. Monstrous things beyond the likes of which the common tongue's vocabulary can describe.
I would share the experience with you, beloved. You know that I can open my mind to yours, to let you browse the width and breadth of all I am like an open book. I can, but I plead with you to not ask this of me. There lies within me a fragment of a greater creature, a mere shadow of a reflection of a mote of her majesty. She has no name, dearest, for where she dwells she is everything. She is the beginning, she is the end, and whatever is not of her is consumed and devoured until it is. Like I was.
To truly know of what I am, you must know what I was, and what I strove to be. As apropos as my name is now, when I was born it was a title meant to instill a grand destiny. My name is and was Atrocity Kajara, my love, and my birth was the first of the midwife had witnessed in my Emperor's court.
You would not have heard of him, dearest. For to reach out to where he reigns is to slip in between the barriers of existence twice over. The name of our world was lost to the sands of time, as the Empire was ripped from it as a page from a notebook. Ours was a struggle between good and evil, an eternal war fought balanced on the head of a pin.
In every generation there was born a King of Darkness and a King of Light. Each was destined to gather allies to their side, to eventually lead the vanguard of an army against the forces of the Other. All was in balance, dark gave way to light who then in turn gave way to dark. Dawn, day, and dusk. And then? Then my Emperor cheated.
Through manipulating the bloodlines, manipulating his own blood, he was able to draw out power hidden within. Patterns of ancient magic lying dormant within the lineage. It was with this new sorcery that he extended his own life far beyond what was possible with mundane sorcery, for our realm had no undead. Ours was a world for the living.
And the next time the King of Light drew forth, he found himself opposed not merely by a King of Darkness, but the King of Darkness standing at the right hand of the Emperor of Blood. There was no longer a dawn.
With nothing but time until the rebirth of the King of Light, my Emperor busied himself in the blood. The Kajara Line was his masterpiece. From all the men and monsters of our world, my Emperor wove together a tapestry of raw physical and spiritual power.
With my kin at his side, the Darkness grew until it nearly subsumed the Light. Until that holy blood was all but purged from existence, until there could no longer be a King of Light. Upon that day, upon the day when the last child of light first drew breath, the greater gods of our world decreed that the imbalance could be tolerated no longer.
The Empire was cut from the fabric of reality with the sharpest and cleanest of cuts. The gods surgically cut the growing tumor of Darkness from the world they had worked so hard to create. But the power of my Emperor was great. Not great enough to prevent the severing of our existence, not great enough to prevent our casting into the Void.
You know of Planes, dearheart, but do you know of the Void? Eternal stillness. Eternal nothingness. Eternal cold. Infinite in scope. Beyond even the comprehension of those that dwell upon the infinite Abyss, or the infinities of each layer of Hell. For they are not truly infinite as they imagine. How could they truly comprehend infinity and continue their petty little squabbles, their grabbing for the souls of mortal beings.
Know you of Eberron? Or Krynn? Or Toril? Or any of the myriad worlds that the planes seem to coalesce around, the anchors that give the other planes meaning. Imagine, dearest, the greatest of these. A magnificent sphere of rock, of soil, of water, of ice, and of magma, titanic in scale. Now imagine, dearest, the radiant sun. An incredible fire so large and so dense that it collapses inward upon itself, burning and crushing the very air around us again and again until it becomes iron. That fire is a million times bigger than the tiny orbs upon which mortal men dwell.
From that incredible pyre to its nearest sibling is an even greater distance still. A distance so great that it can be measured only by taking the movement of the fastest thing known to mortal minds, light, and measuring the distance that it travels in the span of one year. Four of them. Four years it takes for the light shining from the nearest star to reach mortal eyes.
Imagine a hundred such stars. A thousand such stars. A million. A billion. A trillion. All of that? Not even a speck in the face of infinity. There are trillions of those not-specks just in the blackness that can be seen. In the face of this, it is no wonder that the gods and outsiders turn their gazes inward to the small affairs of a handful of worlds and the planar bubbles centered around them.
Now, think of that great mass of an incomprehensible scale and it as a grain of sand on a beach. One possibility upon a beach of possibilities. All of immense, unimaginable, eternal creation branching off with each new event, each of the tiniest potentials that could be. In this writhing mass of what is, what was, and what could be, nothing could exist outside of it. For it encompasses all there is.
But you can step beyond, beloved. Perhaps not you personally, but some have the power to tear open the very fabric of reality and step into the nothingness that does and does not exist between what is, what was, and what will be. Within the nonexistence are things, that even in nothing exist nonetheless.
The very gods had ripped us from existence, the memory of what we were gone in its entirety. An entire continent that had been, never was. But my Emperor's power preserved us. In the eternity between moments within the Void his power brought us into existence again. A newly born world upon which our discarded scrap of reality settled. A nest of some unimaginable cosmic jackdaw who cherished the gleam and sparkle of the Emperor's power.
Like any other world it had its gods, its demons, its powers, its inward-facing patrons. With the new world came new blood, collected from other scraps of cast-off realities. The Empire grew glorious with new wonders and new horrors alike, crafted by my Emperor's hand. And I? I was one of them. Destined to be a horror, beloved, an Atrocity. The Kajara were made to serve the Emperor in so many different ways. But only a chosen few earned his favor.
His hand in our creation, our birth, was not enough to warrant the honor of serving him truly, to become the faintest droplet of the Blood. We would need to be reborn. Reborn through the elements, through the Void.
With all that I know, with all that is within my capacity to describe, my love, I still lack the means to properly convey the sensations as my Emperor placed his hand upon me, sending his power through me in order to remake me anew.
My body and mind were torn apart. I was sand upon a beach, my body no longer a body, but a smattering of dirt and dust that no longer knew existence. A mind that ripped and shredded and tore itself apart, beyond bestial rage, beyond animal cunning, beyond even instinct to no longer even be. I ceased to exist. I had no mind, no body, no soul. And yet I still was.
Cut adrift from all existence, not in the void, but the dust of my non-being scattered to the winds over unwanted tidbits of reality, cast aside by megalomaniacal gods. It was there that I found her, beloved. It was there that I found... my goddess. That word is an insult and I weep at my limited magnitude of comprehension and utter inability to describe her magnificence.
She dwells in the Void, beloved. She has been there for time untold. Time beyond time. She merely is. She consumes the scraps that the gardener gods cast aside, the unwanted, cancerous reality that they decree must not be. She is life. She is death. She is everything. She is nothing. She is She Who Thrives Between, and she devoured the nothingness that I had become.
I weep even to think of it, beloved. I weep tears of water from my eyes, just as every fiber of my being weeps with her essence. For a glorious instant and a horrific eternity I was a part of her. I was but a single atom of a being of unimaginable power. She is a single being so vast as to defy infinity, and yet I felt her vibrant embrace.
She took the dust of nothing that I had become, and made me something again. She is something like a plant, like an animal, like a fungus, like a bacteria, like a virus, and yet nothing like any of them. In seconds and eons I grew from nothingness. I had a mind again. A feeble one with no more intellect than a cockroach. I had roots, I grew, I fed, I hunted, I devoured.
And in time and in nothingness I was, once again. I had a self, an identity, an instinct. She took the pieces that my Emperor created and sculpted something with them, with a touch of her own image. In her unimaginable mind she knew all that I had known, all that I would ever know, all that my delicious scrap of a world could ever be, or ever have been.
And so she completed me, even though I had failed my Emperor. I lacked the will, the strength, the stamina, call it whatever you will to hold onto myself through my journey into the void and beyond.
I was sent into the void the moment before my death, as my Emperor ripped out my heart and placed it in my own hands, beloved. I was reborn in the nothingness, in the between that does not exist. After eternities I realized that I drew breath, that I was fully existent once again.
The round worlds of the material plane were strange and unfriendly, their skies empty of the corkscrewing moons and gleaming comets. The comforting expanse of the rest of the world no longer curved comfortably up at the horizons. The impossible donut of my home was gone, and in all my searching I have never found the merest trace of it.
Nor did I expect to, dearest. My beloved Empire had been cut away for what is, was, and could have ever been real. I doubt even the gods who cut us away remember. But that matters little. Though I have failed to prove myself worthy of my Emperor's favor, I've known the love and compassion of She Who Thrives Between. A piece of her came with me when I arrived here, after all. With such a tiny mote as myself it will take eternities before these planes are fertile enough to draw in her roots, her teeth, her tongues. Everything will know her wonderful, beautiful, horrible, caress. In time.
Ssh. There, there beloved. There is nothing for you to fear. My heart belongs to you, and to you alone. So soft and warm, is it not? Comforting. Such a beautiful thing, my heart is. So smooth and polished and gleaming. Flesh made stone made metal made crystal made soil made wood made sap made amber.
I told you, dearest. I told you that some things were better left unknown. You wished to know of me and my heart. You can see for yourself how black it is. How could it be anything but? My heart is a fickle thing, dearest, and you know as well as any what can be done with it. It is not wise to wear my love on your sleeve, but rather best to keep it concealed and cozy, my love for you hidden away from the world.
You stole my heart, beloved. And now I belong to you. For my love will never die, and neither will I. Though they have tried, dearest. Oh how they have tried. And you would know this better than anyone.
You and your friends fought quite valiantly. I do apologize for the mess I made of them. I applaud your ingenuity in recognizing that with possession of my heart comes my loyalty, my affection, my love, and my eternal devotion. Or as eternal as it comes with mortal beings, so soft, so swift, and so fragile.
It is a shame that young woman in white was the first to fall. But the recently departed lich did have quite a keen intellect. If only the devotees of your sun god were a bit less... shall we say flamboyant in their style of dress and their pride in showing off his symbols?
Just lay on your side, beloved, let the coughing expel the fluid. Your body is a fertile ground for my essence to take root and grow. Your wounds have weakened you, my dear. I would restore you, if I could. But the blood that runs through my veins does not truly belong to me, but to Her. Your warmth, your vibrancy brings about her coming just the most miniscule bit faster.
Your poison-using friend and his lacking mental defenses are as much to blame as I. Were it not for his poisoned dagger, you would be able to expel my lady's caress from your body. You have another hour, perhaps two before you succumb. You need not be concerned, dearest, you have fulfilled your vow. As you requested, his phylactery is now dust. You have accomplished what generations have not. Doing so much with the short amount of time you've been given.
Yes, I will see to it that they all receive a proper burial, and you as well. My heart is not my own to give, dearest, you know that, but if there is any individual in particular that you would desire for me to bring your remains, that could certainly make sure I don't 'fall into the wrong hands' as it were.
I am at heart a wicked thing, my love, you know that. I have all the time in the world, and the next, and the next. My lady's will shall be done in time. But she is patient. If this person is as you say, than my heart will be in good hands.
No more words, beloved. Your body is weary. Close your eyes and sleep. You have earned your eternal rest. I do wish that we had not met under such dire circumstances, you have the wit to ask the right questions, and the curiosity to tread right into dangerous subjects. I have not been able to share so much about myself for so long now.
Sleep, beloved. Shed your mortal shell in peace and let your soul begin upon its journey. Sleep. |
How undignified.
It was bad enough that he got caught in the state that he was in, now he had to make it up to the wizard by running errands?! Anthony would’ve almost preferred if the old man just cast a curse on him and sent him on his way, at least that way he could’ve been done and over with his torment in a manner of hours as opposed to never knowing when that wizened old magic man would bother releasing him from his bind. Sure, the kobold did steal from the man’s tower and he did try and run away in order to avoid punishment, but surely being inflated like a balloon would be punishment enough; why did the wizard feel like piling even more on top of it if not to teach him a lesson that he would forget the first opportunity he had to commit magical, wing-related larceny?
Speaking of, the way that bastard went about “protecting” him was nothing short of embarrassing. Now that he had wings, Anthony couldn’t even use them properly, what with his fluffy new appendages not only still being awfully inflated and ballooned up, but deliberately bent around his body to serve as a form of improvised armor against the myriad of sharp, pointy things that could pop them and his whole body at a moment’s notice. The only thing in between himself and a very loud bang was an enchantment placed on them by the wizard themselves, supposedly so they’d be extra-resistant to popping and just as capable of taking damage as they would be if they weren’t filled up and inflated with air thanks to that potion the ‘bold had carelessly guzzled down. The rest of his body had been slightly emptied out as well, just enough that he could use his claws to keep himself at ground-level… but not enough to prevent him from waddling from place to place instead of actually walking, and certainly not enough to make him look like anything other than a slightly kobold-shaped sphere. And while this would’ve been something… usable if he was in the safety of his own home, even if only for a wild night or two, Anthony was nowhere near a place of safety; quite the contrary in fact.
As “repayment” for having stolen a potion from them, the wizard, after catching Anthony stuck to their ceiling and about to push a fortune’s worth of chemical equipment on the floor, demanded that the kobold do something for them: specifically, gather the ingredients necessary to brew another batch of the same draught that he had drunk, freshly-picked and harvested from just the right places at just the right times to maximize their efficiency and potency. It was complicated work, given that it was high-level alchemy of the sort that took decades to master, hence the parchment listing all the ingredients necessary being so big that Anthony had given up trying to roll it back up and just left it stuck to the side of his rotund body for whenever he needed to consult it again; it stuck to him well enough that he needn’t worry about it too much, not as long as he kept part of it underneath of the many leather straps he had attached to him in order to keep his gear from falling on the ground. Nevertheless, finding these things would’ve been bad enough on its own, even if Anthony was perfectly capable of moving around and using his wings to their fullest extent; some of them were only found out in the mountains or deep in abandoned barrows beneath the earth, surely some kind of sick joke the universe was playing given what the resulting potion actually did. With his body still being shaped like a balloon as it was, an already-difficult task became all-but impossible, especially with how sensitive his everything still was.
The struggle to keep himself from wincing every time he got anywhere near something even slightly pointy or possessed of an edge was… starting to wear on him. Intellectually speaking, he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t pop, not with the enchantment protecting the wings that were strapped all around his body. He knew that he was protected, and yet it was still so difficult to ignore the fact that, well, they were still very much bloated up like balloons and looked to be as fragile as one, not to mention that if he pushed his fingers into them, their surface still budged like it was as soft as it used to be. In those vanishingly few occasions where he was truly distracted and didn’t see a thorn or jagged piece of rock until it was too late, his mind practically broke in half when he looked down and saw it piercing through his inflated feathers, pushing so deeply into them that it should have popped them there and then, if not for the magic provided by the wizard keeping them in one piece. It was a constant battle between his rational self and the other ninety-percent of his brain, especially when one considered how much his new body still left him… slightly more aroused than it should.
Truth be told, it hadn’t been the first time these thoughts had arisen before swimming around in his head without anyone to control them, just far enough away from his conscious self that the ‘bold was barely aware of them at all, yet there they remained, eating away at his mental defenses and setting up the groundwork for when he would later be given just what he truly wanted; especially now that it was rendered “safe”, at least to a certain extent, those same thoughts grew immensely bold, pushing against the forefront of his mind rather than being content with staying in the back. Not only did he have to constantly fight against the urge to run away from anything that could potentially physically endanger him, he also had to keep his own thoughts at bay, lest he stop in the middle of his gathering adventure to find out just how resistant his new form was to constant physical workout of a more… intimate variety. He he could feel himself blushing at most times, his mind wandering at the worst of them whenever he really would’ve preferred for it to focus instead, and more than once he found himself in a situation where he needed to pay close attention to something, such as only plucking a fruit from a tree when the moon was at a specific angle from the northern star, and instead busied himself wondering about all sorts of lewd things that he could do with a floaty body equipped with fully functional wings, until the time had past, the fruit instantly shrivelled, and he had to make camp until the next night.
And yet, despite this, these thoughts never really went away. Be it when he was trying to fall asleep, after strapping himself to the ground to prevent his body from floating away, or during those long hours where he waddled his way over to the next item on the list and had nothing better to do on the road other than to amuse himself with his musings, Anthony always, constantly fell back on the exact same pattern over and over again: denying that he was enjoying his brand new body, which led to him wondering why he was randomly denying that unless he had a reason to do so, quickly followed by the inevitable storm of unwholesome thoughts that only ever multiplied upon themselves until he stopped dead in his tracks to force his mind to stop thinking about them by finding something else to occupy it with, such as re-reading the list of ingredients for the millionth time, even after he had already gone through it so often he could repeat it by sheer rote memorization.
Perhaps the worst part of it all was that he couldn’t really… act on this newfound self-love, especially not in that kind of way, and certainly not in that other sort of manner; regardless of how much he wanted to explore himself, for lack of a better word, he was still a puffy, air-filled ball of a kobold who could barely even walk properly, let alone do anything that required the slightest amount of dexterity. His arms and legs still protruded at an awkward angle from his inflated body, making it difficult for him to grab onto anything (such as the multitude of ledges he was made to climb), and more or less impossible for Anthony to reach more private parts of himself. Not that this stopped said private parts from experiencing some inflation of their own, though thankfully (or not, the more he thought about it) they were kept from going through the same kind of transformation the rest of him had. No, nothing but the natural turgidity of a shaft fueled by a million arousing thoughts, rubbing against against a decidedly unnatural belly pressing down on it, giving the kobold something to think about during those long hours where he travelled barely-traversed roads in search of the next ingredient on the list.
He didn’t even know why he was doing it, seeing as the wizard cast no restraining spell on him and didn’t offer any sort of compensation if he managed to complete his task. Perhaps the old man assumed the ‘bold would be unable to do so, and would end up meeting their end in some way or another along the way. There weren’t even any promises of making Anthony return to normal, though this was sounding less and less like something he really wanted the longer he experienced life as an overinflated, ballon version of himself; no, he was out there collecting ingredients based on a misbegotten sense of duty and responsibility towards a man that he had literally tried to burgle for his own personal benefit, an attempted larceny that had led him to this predicament in the first place! It was absurd to think about, but at the same time, Anthony was too fearful of what might happen should he turn around and stop going through the list; for all he knew, the parchment itself might be cursed, and his body would return to the same-old uncontrollable form it had taken back when he first drank the potion that gave him wings… and while the sensations would no doubt be ones he’d remember for the rest of his life, this wouldn’t exactly be a very long time if he was out there in the open with nothing to hold him back once he inevitably floated up towards the sky.
So he carried on. Through hills and valleys, mountains and small lakes that turned out to be spatially distorted to hide the fact they were very large seas with their own archipelagos, Anthony the waddling kobold did his best to find the ingredients for a replacement potion, becoming increasingly convinced that he’d been sent on a snipe hunt and that most of what was on the list was entirely unnecessary, purely because of how ungodly difficult it was to come across. Surely, if this potion was brewed out of such impossibly rare ingredients, it’d be locked up somewhere safer than behind a single pane of glass; hell, it’d be labelled properly as well! Instead, he was out there in the great wilderness, risking his life on a semi-daily basis trying to swing a sword when he could barely even swing his arms around fully without bumping into some inflated part of himself, all while constantly dreading the possibility that the protective charm keeping his wings all-but indestructible would wear off around the next spiky thing that reared its ugly head.
If nothing else, it was an eye-opener regarding his own adventuring prowess. The kobold had spent so much time and energy robbing others of their possessions for meager earnings that he never considered the possibility that he might actually be competent at heading off and slaying monsters, let alone good enough to overcome the many obstacles being thrown his way. If he were to toot his own horn, he might even feel extra proud for doing so while his body was in the state that it was, utterly unable to really do anything at all without having to do a full three-sixty swivel and hoping that his blade connected with whatever was trying to chomp his head off at any given moment. Perhaps it was the magic on his wings, or maybe he was just good at what he was doing, but things grew progressively easier as he went down the list and slowly scratched off everything that he had collected; it took around three months before he finally got everything, but once he did… he began to wonder what the point even was.
In his journey, he had met a great number of people who were happy to spend a night camping while waiting for the sun to come up, and if there was anything that Anthony had learned, it was that the wizard had most likely fooled him into undertaking something that was deliberately designed to kill them. A chance encounter with an alchemist on the road to a gathering of scholars all-but confirmed this when the old woman read through the list and could do little but scratch her head at what she called a “hodge-podge of mismatching paraphernalia”, whatever that was supposed to mean; when Anthony recounted the incident with the potion, she very helpfully pointed out that something like that was probably the result of a bad batch and only useful for recycling down the line, and that the potion itself was one of the first that most chemists who seriously wished to improve their skills would learn. The ingredients required for it could probably be harvested in just a couple of hours, assuming one had a flightless bird from which to pluck a feather from, and certainly didn’t include the likes of the storm lilly or the arctic tulip.
“Whoever that wizard was, he’s trying to get you killed,” she said back then, her words still resonating with the kobold, “I would advise you to stop while you’re ahead… though how you got this far is anyone’s guess.”
Anyone’s guess, sure. He got that far because he was good. He got that far because he knew what he was doing and now he had the skills and experience to back that statement up. He got that far because, quite contrary to what the wizard expected, he wasn’t a poor, defenseless little ‘bold who could barely swing a sword, but an adventurer, albeit a very waddly one who could barely keep his balance without tipping over… but that was now. That was with his body being the way that it was. And as he approached the wizard’s tower, carrying a bag of ingredients in one hand and his blade in the other, a smirk on his face and a plan in mind, he was going to prove his worth.
And wrench his body back from the clutches of that wizened old bastard. |
She was… apprehensive. It wasn’t every day that she and Viktor got to go through an experience like that one, given how expensive it was; temporary or not, the bodymods required for her intended transformation weren’t exactly cheap, with the tiny little clack of the pill bottle on the dinner table only driving the point home of what they were going to do. The premise itself was simple: Aleksi would take the singular pill, and the two of them would spend a night of passion together, which would (supposedly, at least) help her body along to a form more resembling what she intended it to be.
It was a popular product, even if there were rumours it had a significant chance of “unwanted side-effects” that the lizardess tried her best to pretend didn’t exist; she and Viktor had that night planned and weren’t going to give it up, end of story. Thus, as soon as dinner was over, the first thing Aleksi did was walk over to the kitchen counter, take the pill bottle, then promptly dunk the one thing inside it into her mouth. The pill itself was tiny, flavourless, and very much left the lizardess thinking that it wouldn’t really do anything to her; hundreds of dollars spent on a transformation that wouldn’t happen, she was certain of it. Not that she had much time to think about how much of a waste of money the purchase had been, given that Viktor almost instantaneously leapt out of his chair and threw himself at her, the two ending up wrapped in one another and bent over the counter in one of the few moments of raw, animalistic passion they had exchanged.
Aleksi didn’t know, but her partner had a few chemical tricks up his own sleeves… though mostly mundane ones, seeing as his choice of pills was very much blue in nature, with a handful of aphrodisiacs and libido enhancers on the sides. He’d taken them before dinner, carefully calculating how long it would take for his arousal to kick into high gear so it would start truly peaking just before they were done, forcing him to hold himself back for just long enough that, on finally letting go, the explosion of lust was so powerful as to get Aleksi to moan throatily and loudly enough for the neighbors to hear.
She wasn’t quite certain where all that energy was coming from, but couldn’t bring herself to care either; all that mattered was that it was there, it was strong enough to carry her all the way back to the bedroom, and it was certainly doing something to her that it normally didn’t. While the lizardess was initially content in assuming the heat she was feeling was entirely normal (as would be expected), it didn’t just come in waves; rather, it was a continuous, furnace-like source of warmth permeating her entire being, almost filling her in a sense. She felt her insides tighten, as if the heat was taking up all available space and then some, unstoppable, until her cup ran over and it spilled onto the outside world… and she wasn’t that far off from the truth, in fact.
The first changes to her form didn’t come in a way that she understood them, or could understand them, for they were purely internal: a reduction in her inhibitions, a higher propensity for arousal-driven decision-making, less concern for the rational and more emphasis on the purely sensual. Her very mind was slowly reformatted, made to think less along the lines of what would make sense, and more in terms of how she could achieve peak sexual gratification at any given point, via any possible means, nevermind the consequences or the cost of her actions.
Indeed, she was no longer thinking about whether or not the pill was doing anything at all, not because it clearly was, but due to the very idea being stripped from her mind; it ceased being relevant, because why worry about something that wasn’t sex, or getting railed, or that cock that Viktor was grinding against her? Why waste any amount of mental resources thinking or pondering on something other than how great it felt to have a shaft on her, in her, inside her, ready to plunge in between her legs and piston into her so madly as to leave her unable to walk properly for a whole day afterwards? That’s what she wanted, and thus, that was the only thing that was important enough to think about.
Only after this change was wrought to her psyche, leaving Aleksi nice and open to the rest of the transformation, did the chemicals running through her bloodstream begin the next phase: the physical changes themselves. They were supposed to be reactive; being based entirely on the idea of a body altering itself in a fit of sexual ecstasy, said body required a stimulus to force the change to happen: in her case, Viktor, who was more than happy to explore every inch of her non-existent curves thanks to the cocktail of aphrodisiacs swimming around in his veins.
Not that they’d remain as such for long; after all, Aleksi’s dream size included plenty of curvaceous contours to her form, enough that her lizard lover could actually trace rather than simply imagine… and thus, just as his hands moved from her flat rear to her equally unimpressive thighs, pulling them up for the inevitable down the line, so too did Aleksi’s body react by giving Viktor something to actually grab onto. Not much at first, at least not compared to some others out there, but certainly a plumper, plusher rump, one that the lizard could sink his fingers into, and enough fat on the lizardess’ thighs that she felt her clothes straining while trying to contain her.
This alone was enough to make her back arch upwards, the mere sensation of overfilling her attire so powerful that Aleksi could, realistically, only beg for more; beg, for that was exactly what she did: the words “more” and “harder”, along with “bigger” and an assortment of odd mouth noises, kept escaping from her lips even when she had no intention of saying anything at all. ‘Twas an unfortunate happenstance, or would be if she hadn’t fully intended to go through such a process in the first place; loss of control over her own libido pushed so many buttons by itself that it would’ve made her lose her grip on it anyway, making it a wonderful win-win situation for her as far as the lizardess was concerned.
And as she considered this, another thought erupted into her addled mind: why only the bottom half? Surely, if she wanted a proper body, then she had an obligation to make her top half be just as juicy and welcoming as the one below her waist, which prompted her to grab one of Viktor’s hands and pull it up towards her tits. Not under her baggy shirt, of course; it was important that she felt herself filling out everything she wore, that she felt herself turning what used to be loose clothing into barely-fitting, skintight one, purely by virtue of growing enough that nothing could contain her. It was everything she wanted, and the pill she swallowed was supposed to give it to her; hence, she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
Even if she didn’t quite know why anymore; there was hardly any motivation left inside of Aleksi beyond the vague notion that it was hot to grow, thus, she should do so. It was simple, pure, and easy to attain… so why not? Viktor certainly wasn’t going to say no to that, not in the state that he was in; if anything, he was little more than an accessory to the true star of the show: the inner Aleksi, and her emergence thereof. It felt as if every motion, each touch of the lizard’s hands on his beloved lizardess, unleashed a little bit more of the true self that Aleksi had always wanted to experience being. It hardly mattered that it was (presumably) temporary, or that the effects wouldn’t last for more than a couple of hours; she had tits now, ample enough that Viktor could actually bury his muzzle in them and moan loudly enough because of it that she noticed his voice being muffled. She had a bubble butt, round and plump and plush, giving the now-smaller lizard something to sink his fingers into and beg for more. She had curves, actual curves to her, an hourglass figure that, for every moment Viktor spent worshipping it, only grew more exaggerated; after all, the point of the bodymodding chemicals was to give Aleksi the shape of her dreams, and as far as she cared, it wouldn’t be enough until she had a waspish waist with two blooming halves on top and below, a miniscule circumference ballooning into a wide set of hips and a pair of tits to die for… at least, to die for more, if that made any sense.
Did that make any sense? Hard to tell, given how fuzzy her head was; not that Aleksi herself would know, seeing as the perceptual filter slapped onto her mind was so thick that she couldn’t see past it. Far as she was concerned, everything was going perfectly fine and according to whatever plan she used to have; funny how that worked, the idea that she could plan. Was there even a past version of herself that wasn’t fully committed to seeking dick, or was that just some random fantasy that passed through her head in the few times she wasn’t being fed cock in one way or another? Was she ever anything other than a mindless sex beast whose sole motivation was to get railed and beg for more?
If that was the case, then Aleksi didn’t want to go back; why worry about the mundane problems of everyday life when she could be focusing on how big Viktor was, and how heavy his dick happened to be, or how enthusiastically he was already pistoning into her? Why care about anything other than the moment, than to live for it, every single second of every single day? It seemed like a waste of time to do literally anything else, especially when her body was so receptive to her plunging off the deep end: it felt like her tits never gave up swelling, that her ass never stopped growing, or her hips would never dream of halting their incessant widening. Hers was an obscene frame, made more obvious when it began stretching out as well; from barely five-foot-five to reaching six feet, then carrying on towards seven as she seriously outgrew her little boytoy.
Of course, he was still in full control in the bedroom; Aleksi had no intention of taking the steering wheel from him, not when he was just so good at finding her buttons and shamelessly slamming down on them again and again. It wasn’t exactly hard, given how her needs were so simple, but still, it was the thought that counted: in between his hands squeezing her cheeks to make them plump up, or his head firmly stuck in marshmallow heaven only to have the fluffy pillows expand further, or even his occasional bouts of insanity where he traced the tip of his tongue along a set of widening curves, all of it served to turn her into something further resembling her dream form.
Assuming, of course, she hadn’t already reached it; an unfortunate (or not) twist of fate, in that Aleksi, the “real” Aleksi, would’ve probably stopped at some point before she reached eight feet in height, being more than happy with the changes wrought to her. But the further she was changed, the more her mind was warped into one befitting the sort of brainless airhead she often fantasized about, the further her preferences were pushed further as well… thus, the more drastic the changes to her body and mind became, ensuring the lizardess would get stuck in a downward spiral that would only ever leave her bigger, more curvaceous, and simultaneously less and less aware of anything other than the fact that she was getting bigger and more curvaceous.
Well, that, and the fact that Viktor’s dick was deliciously huge and felt right at home being smushed between her thighs, right before slamming into her and making her back tingle and her pleasure centers flare up. Hell, even her clothing seemed to have gotten the memo; nothing had technically changed about it, but given the difference in size between her old, hypothetical self and her newer, truer one, it wasn’t really surprising that what had once been a wide, almost baggy shirt, had turned into a form-fitting tube top revealing an almost scandalous amount of skin and scale. Similarly, while her jeans looked to be close to bursting (and had indeed ripped open in several spots), they still held on to her body, albeit more as a pair of shorts than anything else. Really, all that was left was a pair of fishnets to cap off the look… and, well, wasn’t that pill supposed to give Aleksi her dream bod?
Aleksi herself certainly seemed to remember that was the case, so why shouldn’t it complement it with clothes that made the curves and aesthetic stand off even further? Did it make sense that something she took in pill form could give her extra clothing? Probably not, but the lizardess was in no position to give the smallest of shits about it; she wanted the fishnets, she got the fishnets, for no other reason than because she really wanted them… and, to be frank, she knew how much Viktor loved those, which meant more horny lizard to come play with her, which meant more body for her to delight herself with.
Eight feet tall not enough? How about nine? How about ten? How about she outgrew the bed itself, the frame creaking underneath the weight as her proportions, having reached the state she wanted them to be, were still magnified by virtue of Aleksi never bothering to stipulate when she wanted her overall size to stop going up. Indeed, it had never crossed her mind; so focused had she been on tits and ass that she never stopped to think about her body in general, and now that the bodymods were turning her into a giantess, Aleksi began wondering whether or not she actually wanted it to stop at all. It felt positively heavenly to outsize everything in her room, to know that her beloved Viktor’s attention was turning her into a colossal giantess, even if over time; it felt right, above all, that her boytoy’s utter adoration for her form would bring her not just to the shape she most desired, but would grant her endless size for as long as he could find the energy to keep worshipping her.
How lucky, then, that he’d taken those pills himself. It was going to be a long night... |
Of all the things to find in the hoard of a space pirate, she did not expect to find an upgrade to her suit that would lead her down that path.
Everything looked fine, at least at first; with Kraid defeated (again) and the marauders under his command sent flying (again), Samus believed she could rest easy knowing she had at least a few more days before something inevitably went wrong and forced her back into action. What was better still, the beast had been guarding a cache of high-grade tech, one that she fully intended to make good use of seeing as no one was technically watching.
She had expected the suit upgrade she found hidden among the rest of the hoard to be something akin to the ones she’d found and applied beforehand; something to enhance her mobility, perhaps, or maybe even endurance, a full-on flat upgrade if she was lucky. It would be entirely in character for Kraid to hold onto something like that, if for no other reason than to taunt her over the fact that she didn’t, presumably in an attempt to draw out a confrontation. As always, however, the beast had overestimated his strength, and Samus thus stood there, staring at an upgrade for her suit that left her… confused.
It wasn’t an accessory, or plating, or even a circuit board installed to unlock further functions. It was, instead, something that looked like a netting to be worn above her existing suit, a thin, transparent webbing that looked more like an archaic fishnet than anything else. It was definitely suit-compatible though, she could tell that much from her current equipment’s scanning capabilities, which just begged the question of what that thing would do to her.
No better way to find out than to try it on; her suit was designed to keep her safe from danger anyway, so what was the worst that could happen? Even the most useless of upgrades had been helpful in one way or another, so surely something guarded by Kraid with half a battalion’s worth of pirates should be worth something, unless the giant reptilian was even dumber than Samus assumed. Shrugging, she found an opening on the netting, threw it over herself, then let it settle down on her body.
She found that it adapted to her contours with near-supernatural ease; in fact, she barely noticed her arms slipping into the “sleeves” before the whole thing was on her, but there it was: every inch of her suit, from top to bottom, covered in the thin webbing, one that… clung, like glue. It didn’t occur to her at first to try and pull it off, but once she did, Samus was left with the startling and somewhat worrying realisation that she actually couldn’t take it off; whenever she attempted to pry off a small chunk, it stretched out like some form of hyper-resistant gunk, before snapping back into place the moment she let go of it.
Worse yet, it seemed to be melting into her suit! It was impossible, given that the damned thing wasn’t absorbent, and its surface was definitely not being corroded, yet the webbing was apparently sinking into it, almost as if phasing through solid matter! Now panicking, all Samus could do was keep trying to pull it off of her, to less than satisfying results. It wouldn’t take much longer before she felt the sting of it on her skin, but rather than the searing pain she expected, the young woman instead felt… comfy.
It was hard to put to words, but the sense of panic faded almost instantly after the first touch of the webbing, with the supernatural sense of comfort becoming more soothing the longer contact was allowed to go on. It felt like she’d just come out of the shower, a several hour long, incredibly warm and bubbly shower that she really didn’t want to leave. It was enough to get her to drop down to the floor, though by the time she did, Samus came to understand just what the “upgrade” had done to her.
She landed just a moment or two before she “should” have, and rather than a hard plop, Samus instead fell onto what felt like a pair of very fluffy cushions, along with a loud thwap, almost like the sound of someone slapping a side of meat. This was followed by her whole body seeming to jiggle in tandem with the sound, a shockwave criss-crossing her from head to toe, leaving Samus to wonder just what had happened.
Only when she looked down did she see what had happened… or, more specifically, what had happened to her. It was hard to believe at first, but those two colossal cheeks she was sporting were definitely her ass and no one else’s, the suit stretched over them in such a way that it almost looked and felt natural, as opposed to… well, whatever it was. Her brain didn’t process what had happened, refusing to accept that was, indeed, her rump, but as Samus brought a hand to it, then two, then squished down on her soft and supple flesh, she couldn’t deny it for much longer.
It wasn’t even big by her standards, but outright gargantuan: each of her cheeks was easily big enough that it could compete with a whole beanbag, and the more she looked at them, the more Samus came to notice that they were growing still! Jutting out from her body at an awkward angle, those two colossal orbs looked almost like someone had slapped someone else’s ass on her and called it a day… but give it a few more seconds and it wouldn’t look so lopsided anymore as the sudden appearance of extra mass was mirrored in the rest of her lower body.
Now, it was less like someone had slapped a third person’s ass on her, and more so that her entire upper body had been removed from her old lower half and plucked onto one belonging to a much larger, and definitely more well-endowed and curvaceous creature; her two slim and svelte thighs went full thunder as the fat deposits responsible for her ass seemingly multiplied and melted down into her legs, thickening her up so considerably that she had no choice but to fall back down!
Another loud slap, another set of rumbling shockwaves and jiggling coursing through her, and suddenly her entire body was swelling in every direction, fattening up so quickly that Samus barely had any time to register what was even happening anymore. She stared down at her belly, watching as it grew wider and rounder, not so much possessed of fat rolls as it did just become one enormous sphere. She looked at her bust, reaping the benefits of the sudden infusion of mass, as it billowed out from her suit and plopped unceremoniously onto her rotund gut. She looked at her arms, growing thicker and wider by the moment… and carrying a different texture as well.
The appearance of scales was certainly not something she had expected to see on her, but in that moment, Samus figured it made perfect sense: Kraid had been the one guarding that “upgrade”, so of course it made perfect sense for it to turn out like this. Really, in her last moments of lucidity before the transformation fully took hold, Samus forced herself to look back into the cache, hoping to find something to give her an indication of what that thing was, only to come up empty apart from a small note next to the container:
“Save for future: after freedom is bought”
The implications of that were perhaps a bit too much to Samus to process at that point, hence why chose not to; the idea that Kraid might’ve been a slave to the pirates wasn’t something she’d considered, and quite frankly, having to put every single one of their encounters into this fresh perspective was absolutely not worth her time. Besides, it wasn’t as if she’d started anything; the reptilian beast had been the one to initiate every single time… though, to be fair, that descriptor could now very easily apply to herself as well.
She didn’t want to admit it, but the way she was turning out was distressingly familiar, enough so that Kraid, were he still around and conscious, would likely start catcalling her the moment she stepped into the room. Or, well, waddled into the room; given how much fat was settling on her, Samus doubted whether she’d even be capable of walking normally anymore, or if she was doomed to constantly wobble from place to place, unable to really do anything with herself other than desperately try and not roll over from the sheer lack of balance.
Yet, simultaneously, there was certainly some allure to it all; looking down, the curves she was blessed with weren’t all that bad, and she’d be lying if she said she’d never imagined herself a bit “fuller”, as it were. Granted, never quite to the extent that her plump self was rounding itself out, but now that she saw what it looked like, it was hard to turn back and earnestly say she wanted to return to her previous state. And while there was still a significant part of herself that insisted she didn’t want to remain as was, but rather take a step back to a middle ground of sorts, this chunk of her psyche grew increasingly smaller with every ounce of fat that settled on her, until it, too, became a minority.
How could it not, when she was so gloriously proportioned? Everything from her gargantuan rear, to the equally plump thighs and wide, motherly hips, turning up to a belly that slung out so far ahead of her that it nearly touched the ground and a pair of tits heavy enough that, were it not for her whole body growing to adapt to her new weight. She filled out the room as well, more quickly than was perhaps advisable, until her head bumped against the ceiling at around the same time as Samus felt her ass slamming against the ground, despite the fact that she was still standing. It was as if she were being made to take up all available space around her, which, while definitely worrying, didn’t feel as such to Samus… or, at the very least, not as much as it should.
Perhaps there was a mental component to the “upgrade” transforming her, or maybe she’d always had those urges and had just been repressing them for most of her life; the fact was, the bigger she became, the less Samus felt that instinctive need to pull back and return to where she’d come from, that voice telling her that maybe it’d be a good idea to exercise some self-restraint and not allow herself to go fully off the deep end with whatever was happening. After all, she’d been affected by some unknown, goop-like substance that seemed capable of burrowing through her suit and making her burgeon outwards with apparently phantom mass; by all means, she should be terrified of the implications.
But… she wasn’t. Quite the contrary, in fact, as the longer the transformation went on, the more accustomed to it Samus’ brain seemed to grow. As the number of nerve connections approached a critical level and her mind was fully reformatted to deal with her new body, the notion of going back seemed almost ludicrous; growing accustomed to her new self, Samus honestly couldn’t see her old form as belonging to her in any manner, but rather as a larval stage for this new, far more beautiful body the universe had gifted her, one that, while certainly more reptilian than she was used to, was far more… more.
Just more in the literal sense of the word. Not just bigger with more size, but more empowering, more powerful, more domineering, more everything, to the point where, when the structure around her began to groan and buckle under the strain of containing her, Samus didn’t stop to think that maybe she should be moving before the whole thing collapsed on her. After all, Kraid was downstairs, so if she did break through the floor then at least the giant would soften her fall. What was important was living through the transformation and experiencing every moment of it as if it were the last ever in her life, squeezing every second for as much wonderful enjoyment and ecstatic bliss as she could.
She was becoming something greater. With every ounce of fat, every inch of curves, every jiggling motion and rippling of her girthy frame, she became something better; she had shed her old form and adopted a new one, and now, she was taking it to even greater heights. It wouldn’t take much effort for her to reach Kraid’s size, given how quickly she was growing, but she wouldn’t stop there, either; as far as Samus was concerned, seeing as she’d defeated the reptile multiple times before, it only made sense that she should deliver one final indignity: usurping his place as one of the biggest of his species by turning around and outdoing him in the one category he had left.
For in upgrading herself, Samus had left humanity behind, though she didn’t quite mind it. She once thought she would; if something were to happen and her sense of self were affected to such a degree, she once earnestly believed she would fight tooth and nail to hold onto what she perceived as being who she “was”; but now, given such a better form, it was hard to look back and say this was a good idea, as opposed to the delusional ramblings of an ignorant child who didn’t know any better.
Look at her now: gloriously oversized, rotund to the point where she was more a collection of curves and spheres than anything else, pudgy and fat and full and so enormous that she could barely even more. Curvaceous enough to make anyone’s knees weak and so immensely overstuffed that she was lucky her tits weren’t already leaking, though they most definitely would in very short notice. So heavy that even the space station she was in could barely contain her any longer, the floor plating cracking and bending as her weight grew increasingly insurmountable. Soon enough, she would crash through, and then hopefully Kraid would keep her from ploughing through to space outside.
Even if she did though… who was saying she couldn’t keep going? She still had her suit on, even if it wasn’t obvious; it had merely melted into her skin, becoming a protective layer over the blubber below! Even if she broke containment, the vacuum of space would have no means of damaging her… which only left even more room for her to grow into. All the room. All of existence, there for her to take and swell and bloat into. The whole cosmos, given a new ruler.
All for herself. |
Costume After Effects 2 “Pussy check!”
John felt the hand grab his ass, grabbing and lifting slightly. “It’s still there. You know that.” He mumbled.
“Just wanted to check, you never know when it won’t be.” Wendy said playfully.
“It’s been almost a year. I don’t think it’s going anywhere.” John’s voice carried a hint of resignation and perhaps a touch of annoyance. It wasn’t that he hated his new pussy, but he missed his old dick.
“Aww, but we had so much fun last night.” Wendy mock pouted as she slipped her hand around his hip, her fingers reaching.
John’s waiting hand blocked the attempt to tease his slit. “No. It’s still sensitive.”
Wendy frowned. “Still?”
“Yes, still. Geez, you’ve had one of these for your own for twenty-eight years, I’ve had it, what, a year? Of course, it’s still sensitive.” John’s voice carried a bit of frustration as he turned back to the toast that he had been attempting to smear butter on.
“Oh, pooh, it’s not like you didn’t enjoy it.” Wendy said as she withdrew her hand.
“I know I enjoy it, but that doesn’t change that I’m still quite sensitive down there. You left the pump on a long time. It takes a while to go back.” John tried to ignore the faint throbbing that he still felt between his legs. His body was still aching for sex. It always did. More than anything his acceptance of the change from having a cock to having a cunt was a function of how ramped up his libido had become. But Wendy had pulled out the pump the night before and while it really enhanced their sessions, she’d let it go so long that he was still swollen this morning. He could feel his lips rubbing against his thighs.
Wendy had seated herself at the table, watching her beau. She knew his change still bothered him. They’d expected maybe a few days, possibly a month, but even as their other changes had faded, his manhood had remained gone. A faint frown flitted across her face. She missed his cock, it’d been so long since she’d gotten a good deep dicking, but just the same having another pussy in the bed had been a chance to explore some feelings she’d had for a long time.
“Damn it.” John swore.
Wendy shook out of her reminiscing and saw that he’d dropped a piece of toast. Butter side down, of course. He’d bent over to pick it up giving her a marvelous display of his butt and the slit that nestled between his legs. He’d gained a little curve in his hips too, she’d noticed, his ass just a tiny bit plumper than it should be. He chalked it up to not going to the gym anymore. She suspected it was something else. She gazed, watching the thick folds, still puffy from their play last night, squeeze between those thighs. Unconsciously she licked her lips at the thought of going down on him again.
She averted her gaze slightly as he stood back up and turned to look at her. “Enjoying the view?”
“Always.”
“I bet. It’s just weird. Before I wouldn’t care about bending over. Now I feel so exposed.” He said quietly, letting some of his inner insecurities slip. He shook his head and tossed the ruined piece of toast in the garbage. Wendy’s fingers aimlessly drew patterns on the table top, leaving slight traces along the glass. She couldn’t help feeling a bit bad that he had never changed back fully. He’d gamely put on a brave face and pretended life just went on. But she’d noticed he’s become more self- conscious about things. He was game in the bedroom, accepting her dildo fucking him as his body seemed to be constantly flush with need. Turned out he could take even her biggest toys. Later she’d convinced him into giving in to some of her quirkier fetishes. He’d almost balked at her pulling out the pump the first time, but after fifteen minutes she’d watched his fingers curl into the sheets as she touched the swollen mound for the first time.
It was delectable. She loved his taste, his scent, it was magnetic. Thick full lips with a gorgeously large clit, the pump had just magnified these to a glorious mound of quivering flesh. He’d felt better about himself too, as the pumping gave him a feeling of fullness in his pants that he’d been missing. She’d pump herself too, but the effects were never so splendid, but the tribbing was fabulous. So, it’d become a regular part of their lovemaking, and many days he’d pump himself up just to get that feeling.
“Wendy?” John asked, having stepped over to the stove to quickly scramble some eggs to go with the toast.
Wendy looked back up from her table doodling. “Yeah?
“Evan messaged me yesterday. Asked if we were doing the party again this year.” John said it like it was nothing uncommon.
Wendy knew better. That party had changed their lives. Well, not the party, per se, but the costume she’d chosen for them. The centaur costume that had left her beau with a cunt for the last year. “I don’t know. What do you think?” “I didn’t say anything. I told him I needed to talk to you.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t even remember last year’s party. And you’ve never really talked about it.”
There was a hard lump in the pit of her stomach. She’d never been honest about the party with him. Once he’d fused with her, she’d felt so free, so wild. The hands that touched, lifting her tail, and sliding across the leathery expanse of her new cunt. Oh, and the cocks. Oh my god, the cocks. She was getting wet just thinking about the guys who’d dropped their pants to have a chance at the dark mare cunt between her rear legs. Well, between John’s legs in truth. But for that night? They were one, and she’d felt ever thrust and she wasn’t even sure whom she’d fucked that night.
John gave her an expectant look. Wendy swallowed hard. “I don’t know. The night was such a blur, it’s hard to say what happened.” That was a lie and she knew it. She might not remember the guys, but she remembered the night quite well.
He didn’t press her on it. She didn’t have a habit of lying to him, but she knew he remembered nothing from the time. It was as if he ceased to exist for those hours.
There was silence, only broken by the scraping of the spatula on the pan. “So, are we going?” He asked.
“Do you want to go?” She asked tentatively.
It was his turn to pause and reflect. “I… I don’t know. I don’t remember last time because I spent it inside the costume and it’s all a blank. I came to with the bottom half of a horse.”
Wendy stifled a giggle remembering those couple days where they’d both had equine characteristics below the waist. The hooves had been cute, and she’d even painted them the first day just to enjoy the look. John had refused that, still trying to get a hold on having a clit instead of a dick. She’d coaxed him into bed and giving him a tongue lashing like he’d never forget.
Ripping herself away from the memory, she pondered the question. “What would we wear?”
“Evan asked if you could come as the centaur again.” John said quietly.
Wendy did a double take “He did?” Her mind spun. Was Evan one of the ones she’d fucked? Oh, God, did she have John fuck his best friend?
“Yeah, said it was a hit last year.” John served up the eggs next to the toast. Tossing the pan on a cool burner, he picked up the plates at walked them over, setting one in front of Wendy.
Wendy tried not to eye the bare patch between his legs. He’d taken to shaving his muff. She’d never expected that, but he said it felt nicer. She didn’t complain, and it certainly made that lovely large clit of his stand out nicely between the framing of his plumped lips as he walked.
They settled in to eat. Neither saying anything for a while.
“Would you want to?” Wendy asked, almost timidly. Her stomach fluttering.
“I’m not sure. I’m a little afraid that it might change me more. I don’t want to be a girl, Wendy, I’m a dude.” His face fell slightly as he looked down.
She knew his thoughts. Not a dude where it counted in his mind. “It’s okay, we don’t have to go. Or at least not as the centaur.” A small part of her really desired to try the costume that now sat in her closet, neatly tucked away. He munched a bit of the egg. “But they’re asking for it. I hate to disappoint people.”
“You’re never a disappointment.” She reassured him.
“Thanks.” He said quietly.
*** *** ***
“Come on dude, we need the centaur at the party!”
John sighed, shifting the phone. A week of messages hadn’t gotten anywhere so he’d called instead.
“Look, Evan, Wendy said she wasn’t sure. I can’t promise you anything, okay. I don’t know why you want us back. It’s not like we won the silly costume contest anyway. But I’ll ask her again, okay?” John leaned back, rubbing his temples.
“Thank man, she was the life of the party last year. Just let me know, alright.” Evan hung up.
“Who was that?” Wendy asked as she walked in with a load of laundry.
“Evan.”
“He called?” She asked. No one ever called them except John’s mother. Even her mother texted.
“Yeah. Really is pushing to get you back as the centaur.” John said, his annoyance starting to clearly show.
“Us back, you mean.” She said carefully.
“He never mentions me, just you. Probably because I was a horse’s ass the entire time.” John said, tossing his phone on his desk. “Well, the party is next week. He’s probably just trying to finalize the guest list.” Wendy’s mind was starting to drift, her own loins warming at the thought of the costume again. John had seemed less eager and she’d tried not to push him about it. He was something of a people pleaser and he’d probably agree to it just because everyone said they wanted it and he’d never want to make them all sad.
The pointed question finally hit. “Do you want to go?” John’s brown eyes burrowed into her soul.
She blushed and stammered for a minute. “I do.”
There was a slight sigh and it was clear that she’d just won as his shoulders slumped. “Okay. But I better not keep the tail.”
“But you looked so cute with the tail.” She teased.
“I don’t care. It’s hard enough to hide what has changed. I don’t need to add a horse’s ass to the list.” He gave a very passable horse snort in response.
Wendy just giggled and plopped into his lap and kissed him. “I’m sure I can prove that whatever you have is worth it to me.”
His eyebrow rose as she began to convince him, once more, that there were some real perks to having a cunt.
*** *** ***
“Ready?” She asked, pulling out the box.
“No, but let’s get this over with.” John had stripped, just as she had.
The fabric came out of the box. Two halves that slid up their legs. The space of hers leaving her ass exposed to him. His pulled up to his neck, the barrel of the torso covering him nearly completely. Small straps inside slipped over his shoulders.
“This thing looks so cheap. Are you sure they thought it was great?” John asked as he shifted inside the costume half.
“It looks a lot better once you get it all the way on.” Wendy said. She could feel herself anticipating the transformation. The wild free sexuality that would roar into her system. She hoped she wasn’t already dripping since he’d smell it as soon as his head shifted up to her ass. Pulling the waist cincher tight she looked at him. “Okay, I’m ready.”
He let out one sigh and bent forward, letting himself line up with her. She gently pulled the fabric together as she felt his hair brush against the curve of her ass. Inside his costume he was doing the same with the bottom edge.
Wendy wasn’t sure if it was her or him that finished the job, but with the last snap connected there was a surge of energy through her body. She’d never be able to explain to him the sudden feeling of the costume as it shifted around her, her legs taking on proportions of the equine, even as his body melded into hers, leaving a horse’s barrel in place of him. Her hair sprouting down her back as the mane grew in.
No, what she felt was wild exhilaration as her body transformed. She could feel his cunt, no, her cunt, dominating her mind. A sense of urgency, ready and eager for breeding. She barely noticed the pull of her feet into hooves, or the swell of her breasts. It was only belatedly that she reached up to cup them; they’d gained a cup or two in the transformation. Reaching down she grabbed the past piece of the costume, a small bikini top made of fur and faux leather to complete the look. Not that it’d stay on once they were at the party. Still, for public modesty’s sake she tied the small thing over her nipples. Their tips poking slightly through the flimsy faux leather, hard with desire. Gently she worked on her steps, making sure she had full control. Carefully she trotted out to the full-length mirror to look at her remade body.
Just like last time she’d become an exquisite centauress. Little taller than she’d been, but perfectly proportioned. She shook her mane, watching it flow down her back. Her tail flicked in anticipation as she turned, letting herself look at her backside. The large expanse of brown horse flesh greeted her view, topped by a long tail of dark hair to match her mane. She swished it aside, staring at the dark folds of flesh that flashed bits of pink as her arousal signaled her need to the world.
She’d almost forgotten how much this body demand. She patted where her lover had become her equine back, an apologetic affectionate pat. “I’m sorry John, I love you, but a year with out a proper dick, and mama’s going to go crazy without. So tonight, you’re going to get it seven ways to Sunday.” A shiver of anticipation ran through her.
It wasn’t right, not really, not having his permission, but right now? He was her. And she was horny and there was a party to get to. Licking her lips, she grabbed her purse and trotted out the door for a party she’d never forget. And a party John would never remember. |
On the outside, everything seemed perfectly fine; maybe a few dust clouds emerging from nowhere, but certainly nothing to write home about. It was only after the front door of the apartment building flew wide open and a flood of panicked tenants began pouring out into the streets that onlookers realized something might be happening, a realization that was was made surprisingly easy to confirm by the fact that, in between the first signs of danger and the colossal owl emerging from within the cocoon of their ascension were only a measly couple of minutes.
The process had momentarily accelerated once the structure began to collapse inwards, with the nanites floating through Mephiston’s bloodstream and machinery making good use of all that falling rubble to kickstart an explosive growth spurt that made short work of the rest of the building in just a handful of seconds, leaving behind nothing but a couple of bits of drywall and whatever was left of its foundations after the half-mechanical titan stumbled around in confusion, slightly dazed by his own sudden emergence into the outside world. The perspective he had on it was wonky, enough to cause slight nausea before he readjusted; it was one thing to have a bird’s eye view when he was actually flying, quite another to have it while he still felt his feet firmly on the ground, leading to some confusion in his brain for the first few minutes of his brand new existence.
A confusion that, once resolved, gave rise to a most curious sense of hunger, one that Mephiston himself couldn’t quite explain. He hadn’t felt it before, not even when the nanomachines he injected into his body were outright gorging themselves on building materials; it had been a sense of power, yes, but never this… ravenous, gnawing need to eat and consume that he could feel biting at his insides, like a pit had opened in his stomach and his entire self was ordering him to fill it. Not with meat or vegetable, or even food for that matter, but raw material that could be used to further fuel his ascent into a godlike status, mass that could be converted into bulk, so that all the world might lay eyes on him and recognize him as their new deity.
He liked that idea. He didn’t know where it had come from, nor why he suddenly felt like he should be ruling over the planet, but what he did know was that feeling the last bits of rubble be reprocessed into additional muscle mass for his organic half felt better than anything else he’d experienced in his life, and if he had the chance to feel that again, to keep feeling it for as long as there were things to devour and transform into more of himself, then he was going to take it and milk it for all that it was worth.
After all, who was there to stop him? A cursory glance at his mechanical half revealed that it was stronger than ever before, probably sturdy enough to withstand direct fire from large-caliber weapons without even so much as a scratch… and if that much was true already, then one wondered what it might be like if only it were given more, if it was allowed to improve itself until nothing, no weapons, no strategies, no anything could hope to stop it, to stop him.
Mephiston licked his beak upon having this thought, eager to see what the world had in store for him now that he had unilaterally decided to treat it as one big meal ready for him to eat at his own leisure. He didn’t even pay attention to the tiny ones running around him, some frantically sprinting towards their cars in order to get away from the disaster area, while others were rooted in place, admiring this glorious body that had been given to them as if a gift from the heavens themselves. They’d unfortunately not receive that much of a divine bounty though, for the giant owl wasn’t all that interested in giving his would-be worshippers whatever their lewd little minds wanted; in fact, he was far more concerned with the fact that there were buildings all around him that hadn’t yet been dismantled and turned into additional mass for him to play around with, something he decided should be fixed.
By that point, his control over the nanites within his body had grown to become more subconscious than anything else. He could still directly recode them if he so desired via his many machine interfaces, but as he walked around and allowed his hands to fall upon whatever hard surfaces he could reach, Mephiston felt something different within him: a will, so to speak, a collective one that he was only vaguely aware, and yet fully in control of, the total sum of the nanite mass that resided within his physical form and could be commanded to do his bidding.
He needn’t spend time changing the way those machines functioned at the actual software level; rather, all he had to do was think about something he wanted them to do and they’d… do it. Much like moving an arm or taking a step, it was more unconscious than anything else, and it took a significant amount of time before the owl was comfortable enough doing it not to recoil at the sight of a nanite swarm leaving his hands; by the end though, he was actively looking forward to it.
The first structure to vanish underneath his direct orders was the building across the street from the one where he used to live. There wasn’t anything special about it, as it was effectively a carbon copy of his old apartment block; but it was there, and that was all that mattered, so it had to go. Besides, he never did quite like some of the decorations those people had on their windows (really, Santa in July?), so what better way to take out his frustrations than by slamming both hands on the roof, which by that point was about level with his pecs, and give his nanites instructions to swarm?
In an instant, two black smudges emerged from beneath his palms, extending in every direction to quickly encompass the entirety of the apartment building, coating its outside surface in a thick, almost shiny layer of nanite fluid containing trillions upon trillions of the small machines, all of which had only one instruction to follow: consume. The “shell” immediately began to shrink, the faint sounds of cement, glass and plaster being crumbled only vaguely audible as they were muffled by the nanomachine swarm itself; Mephiston kept his hands where they were, producing two thick columns of nanites connecting his palms to the ever-shrinking mass consuming his very first (well, technically second) snack. It was all over within a matter of minutes, with the two connecting lines sucking up the soup of raw mass as they receded back into Mephiston’s body, the giant owl taking a couple of steps back after the sheer weight of everything he had absorbed smacked into him.
He had forgotten to account for the simple fact that, broken down or not, he was still consuming an entire building, and as a result, let loose a loud yowl-turned-moan as his body struggled to reprocess everything it had just been injected with. Not that it was a particularly hard task; after all, those same nanomachines had already turned him into an Adonis-like giant of a man… but did it really need to feel so good? Honestly, considering the type of person he was, it probably wasn’t meant to, but he just accidentally fiddled with his nanites in such a way that it made his brain produce the happy juice whenever he used them; even if that was the case though, he wasn’t about to complain, what with there being so many buildings around him that he wouldn’t have to worry about running out of that high any time soon.
But it wouldn’t do to just absorb them one by one. Not only would this take so long as to become downright monotonous, but it also wasn’t enough of a flex of his new power; sure, eating buildings in seconds wasn’t something that most people could really do, but given the sort of tools he had at his disposal, it felt downright wasteful not to use them to their fullest extent, especially given what happened to him after all that mass he absorbed was reprocessed into something his body could actually use.
It was just like back at home, just… bigger. Much, much bigger in fact, so much that he actually saw the ground run away from him in real time as his body’s two halves were equally engorged by the infusion of raw materials, rather than it being a lopsided competition as it had been beforehand; this was good, it meant that his body was becoming more efficient at handling things, which obviously could only mean that he should go for larger and larger meals, playing in perfectly with what he’d already been thinking.
It all fell into place, really: he ate one building and became big and bulky enough that, rather than nearby roofs being on par with his pecs, they were now closer to his waist, so obviously he wanted more… no, needed more. He was their new god after all, the new deity to which they would pay tribute, and it wouldn’t do for him not to be as glorious as he could be. Plus, buildings allowed people to hide in them, and he wasn’t about to have that; all would see his glorious radiance.
Thankfully, it was easy enough by that point to give direct orders to the nanite swarm, enough that he didn’t even need to think about what he wanted to do before he felt large clouds of them erupt from his cybernetic side, a thick curtain of nanoscopic machines containing so many of them that it blotted out the light of the sun for the lucky few structures that had been earmarked for consumption. Just like before, the swarm enveloped them, coating their surface in a thick layer of destructive nanite fluid, and just like before, the buildings were broken down into their base components and then siphoned back into Mephiston’s body. The only real difference was that it was being done to multiple targets at a time, and unlike his first full meal, the owl no longer needed to pay any close attention to what he was doing; in fact, just as the first cloud was getting finished sucking up the last bits of concrete, he was already creating a second one, this time from his organic fingertips, to cover an entire residential city block on the opposite side of the one he had just unceremoniously claimed. It was just so… easy.
It shouldn’t be… should it? It should be difficult to take a whole city and break it down into its base components, not something that should be doable just by snapping his fingers (hell, not even that) and letting the nanites take care of the rest. And yet, rather than posing any kind of challenge, what he was seeing the simplest, most mundane task on the planet, and that… that made it special. It made it better, somehow, that he could so easily wreak havoc on such a large a scale, that something that usually took a natural disaster came to him as naturally as breathing; he would raise an arm, and whole blocks of buildings would vanish beneath his nanoscopic attendants, he would stomp down on an apartment highrise and not only would every ounce of its construction materials be added to his growing form, but those of neighboring structures as well.
All while leaving the organics inside intact, of course. Those who hadn’t run away already had to be spared from his rampage, though not necessarily for any humanitarian reason; it was just harder to have worshippers if he accidentally smushed them underfoot, and what was the point of going so absurdly overboard with his destruction and absorption if he wasn’t doing it for the adoration of his new subjects? Oddly enough, the little ones didn’t seem to be all that enthused with their god; surely, seeing Mephiston’s well-toned, muscular form looming over their city and growing larger with each building he claimed should’ve let them know who was in charge, but very few of them actually gave themselves up voluntarily.
Most still insisted on evacuating, with others even going so far as to try and harm him, apparently unaware that such a thing would inevitably be a pointless endeavour; bullets and shells would either bounce harmlessly off of him or be reabsorbed into his body, and even when the occasional fighter jet decided to perform a strafing run, it barely did anything other than give the owl even more fuel for his raging furnace.
Did they not understand that he was inevitable? That no matter what they did, he would always be, and would not be denied? From the way they acted, one might be forgiven for thinking they were actually afraid of him, a ridiculous notion that Mephiston refused to indulge; clearly, if all those littles ones were yet refusing to throw themselves at his feet, then that was because he wasn’t being clear enough with the message: he was their new god, he was there to stay, and there was nothing they could do about that. And what better way to show this off than to keep eating the city, one block at a time, until finally he reached the downtown area?
It was funny to him. Once, he might’ve looked up at the skyscrapers and felt something resembling pride for being able to live somewhere with such imposing architecture, maybe even a modicum of joy for knowing he could just get in his car and go visit them, to look upon the landscape from so high up without having to resort to flying. Now though, they were so… small. He actually had to look down just to be able to see them, down there, looking like mildly thick toothpicks that he could oh-so-easily topple down with just a single claw. They were barely worth consuming, now that he thought about it; looking back at where he had come from, there was an enormous, widening trail of destruction where he had gone through, the result of which was his body being as colossal as it was at that moment. Surely, if there still remained anyone who denied his divinity, then that was their fault, not his. So, he raised a single foot, then brought it down on what used to be one of the country’s most beautiful skylines, and just like that, it ceased existing; the gains he received from them were barely worth the effort.
Still, that was just one city. One metropolis. There was a whole world out there for him to claim as his own.
So better get started on it. |
Careful What You Wish For Ian pounded the table again. “Bwahahahaha!”
Simon glared at him. “Stop laughing, it’s not funny.”
“Says you,” Ian wiped the tears from his eyes. “I think it’s hilarious.”
“You’re not the one who has to deal with it.” Peter glared at his taller roommate.
Ian stifled another giggle. “Look you’re the dumbasses who decided to make the wish, remember?”
“I wasn’t trying to make a wish. I just said I wished we had some wet ass pussy right about now.” Simon shifted uncomfortably, keenly aware of the results of his ill-stated wish.
Peter snorted. “And your dumb ass had to be holding the lamp when you said it.”
“I told you I wasn’t holding it!” Simon shot bad.
“To-may-toe, to-mah-toe,” Ian shook his head. “Your hand was on the lamp, wasn’t it?”
“Maybe.” Simon grunted, trying to hold on to what remained of his dignity.
“And it heard your wish, and granted it.” Ian observed.
There was no response from either of his roommates. They didn’t need to. They’d already admitted to it when he’d gotten home. Ian composed himself, wiping away a few final tears. “C’mon, didn’t either of you ever read fairytales when you were kids? Genies are literal. Like to the letter! They will make your wishes come true in the most exacting way possible. When you wished for something, you get exactly that.”
“Dude the only things I know about genies is that they’re blue, grant three wishes, and until last week I thought they only existed in cartoons.” Simon was regretting that his only information on genies came from a decades old cartoon.
Peter looked over at Ian. “You’re going to fix this, right?”
“What?” Ian squawked, suddenly realizing his roommate’s intent.
“You’re the only one with a wish left. Remember, that was the deal, one wish each. I already used mine to get us this place. And knuckle- head over there decided to wish up some pussy, and well, now we’re gonna’ be screwed if you don’t figure out how to fix this.” Peter crossed his arms, trying very hard not to scratch an itch that was building.
“No way. My wish is mine. I shouldn’t have to burn it to fix your screw ups.” Ian snatched the bottle away from the two, stashing it in his bag for later.
“Not cool man.” Peter said. “This wasn’t even my fault.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to leave us like this.” Simon whined.
“I’m sure you’ll manage.” Ian said.
Simon’s jaw dropped. “Bro, really?” Ian barely gave a glance back as he headed for the door, trying to figure out what to wish for. “Hey, bros before hos, but right now I’m the bro and unless I miss my guess, you two are about to become major hos.”
“Asshole.” Simon shot back.
Peter threw a couch cushion at him. “Fuck off, your stupidity got us stuck like this in the first place.”
“Like how was I supposed to know?” Simon screamed back.
“What the hell do you think an ancient genie from centuries ago is going to think when you ask for a wet ass pussy? Did you think the creature was hip to the latest music scene? Big cardi b fan in a bottle? Seriously?” Peter was turning red in anger as he headed from the room.
“Wait, where are you going?” Simon yelled.
“To get a fucking towel for this cunt you got stuck between my ass cheeks. Then to find Ian before he blows that wish and leaves me hot and horny for a good humping the rest of my god damned life.” The walls shook slightly as Peter slammed the door to the bathroom.
Simon sat there, distinctly aware of the soft flesh that spilled between his former ass cheeks, now mimicking a giant pussy, complete with all the trimmings. And he was keenly aware of how it felt. It felt very, very wet. |
Coming to that place had been the best idea Cookie had ever had. Granted, having to abandon his old home wasn’t the easiest of decisions, but after he saw what sort of bounty awaited him in this new world, the snow leopard almost forgot what he had left behind, focusing entirely on the delicious promises this “Earth” had for him. Never before in his life had he seen a place so full of eager prey, so stuffed with people who wanted to be consumed, when before he’d always had trouble finding volunteers to shove down his gullet; now, obviously, a few of these people that he now shared a world with weren’t exactly all that enthusiastic about serving as snep snacks, but Cookie was certain that, with the proper encouragement, and a couple of good shoves in the right direction, even the most reluctant among them would learn to love their new place underneath him… at least until they went inside him, of course.
He still remembered his first meal, back when he had first arrived on the planet a few months prior by way of a destabilized wormhole: he found himself alone, in a city he didn’t know, in a country he’d never heard of, surrounded on all sides by bidepal, hairless apes who all looked at him like he was some sort of circus freak. A few ran away screaming, others took far too close of an interest for his liking, but in the end, one thing was certain: they were delicious. Almost as soon as Cookie found himself one person who was more than happy to bring him along to their place, as soon as he tasted what these “humans”, as they called themselves, tasted like, he knew that he needed to have more; even after he had to stretch his jaw out far more than he usually did, not to mention having to lounge about the now-ownerless apartment for a few hours just to digest the heavy meal, the one thing in Cookie’s mind was how much he needed more, and just how much he wanted to grow.
It was an urge that he didn’t get to indulge too often back home, at least not without the authorities getting antsy, but as far as the snep knew, no one in this parallel version of his homeworld had the kind of stretchiness that he did, nor were they so eager to consume their fellow sentients for fun and pleasure; presumably, the fact that they were all one species made it more difficult for them to parse such an instinct, or maybe they were just weirdos who didn’t consider the partaking of one another to be one of the most exhilarating displays of power and dominance. Whatever the case, Cookie was determined to see how far he could go before anything resembling a government authority came knocking on his door; his, because he was certain no one was going to bother if he just took over the home of the person resting inside his belly.
As a result, he then spent the following several months inviting more and more prey into his home, initially by going outside and quite literally pulling people off the streets when they least expected it. It was so easy to do, as well, seeing as his unique physiology stood so much in contrast to the rest of the planet’s inhabitants that very few people could resist the opportunity to see what this was all about; most of them assumed it was some kind of weird marketing stunt, though a few were quick to accuse him of being a “deviant”, whatever that was supposed to mean, but in the end, they all ended in the exact same way: inside his stomach, then as padding on the rest of him.
This slowly became a problem the more Cookie gorged himself, because eventually physics had to start catching up and leaving him with a bit more to his everything for each meal that he gleefully chowed down; while most of it just went straight through him, even when he feasted on entire groups and was left so knocked out he spent days resting from the meals, even the smallest of increments had a way of adding up over time, and the more of them there were, the hungrier he got… and the hungrier he got, the closer the snep came to becoming the main target for a criminal investigation he’d heard rumours about.
Apparently, in this world, people actually cared about prey that were eaten, rather than just chalking it up to the circle of life, and the police were, for whatever reason, wasting their time trying to find who was responsible for all the disappearances; predictably, this eventually came back to haunt the leopard, who wasn’t exactly doing anything to hide his tracks. In fact, after he became too big to go out without attracting far too much attention to himself, he happily went online to search for new snacks to invite over, which he was certain would, at some point, be found out. Thankfully, this just played even further into his plans, because now he got to have his meals delivered to his new home without even having to work for them!
No more having to entice others with the promise of a hot night of passion, no longer did he have to come up with nonsense about what he could do with his tongue that was only half-true, now he had policemen and investigators walking up to his front door, willing to talk to him, not knowing that the person who they would see after knocking was a ceiling-high snow leopard who’d give them maybe five second to stare before scooping them up and adding them to the collection of prey gurgling in his stomach.
Soon enough, the very home itself would be crumbling underneath the mounting weight of the snep, who hadn’t stopped to consider that maybe roosting on the fifth floor of an apartment building might not have been the best of ideas, but he couldn’t bring himself to care; if anything, him growing so much from all the delicious meals that even houses couldn’t hold him anymore was just a dream come true, something he’d been looking towards for so long that now that he could live it… well, it was just too good to be true.
At times he wondered whether the portal had failed, and all of this was either a dying dream or some fantasy he cooked up while in a coma, but as the panicked screaming only got louder and the rumbling all around him became more intense, Cookie realized that, even if that were true, it still hardly mattered; he was there, he was having the time of his life, and he was about to show this world what it meant to be a true predator, just as soon as he stretched his limbs out and utterly demolished the cocoon of concrete and glass holding him back.
To say that onlookers were startled when he emerged from the wreckage of what used to be a multi-story highrise would be an understatement, because no one really expected the rumours about a “giant man-eating cat” to be even remotely true… and yet, there he was, a positively titanic snow leopard slowly rising from amidst the ruins of a building he had destroyed merely by outgrowing it, looking down at them while licking his lips, the hungriest expression stamped on his face. It was clear, at that moment, that no one within grabbing range was actually safe, that what was about to happen would be the complete and total consumption of anyone that made the fatal mistake of being close enough to be shovelled into the giant feline’s mouth, not unlike what had been happening for a while already; that said, it was far easier said than done when one suggested running away, seeing as the general fight-or-flight response for every onlooker was thoroughly overwhelmed and short-circuited when they looked up at something that shouldn’t be.
People weren’t supposed to be that big, nothing living that walked on two legs could be that big, and yet not only was Cookie clearly there, they were also some sort of bipedal cat person that no one expected to see coming out of a destroyed building. The snep’s very presence was such that it was enough to break the minds of everyone looking at him, giving him valuable time to walk towards the crowd assembled outside the former apartment block and promptly grab a handful of onlookers to delight himself with. They were as candy, in that a single person wouldn’t be nearly enough to satisfy the ravenous hunger he felt, but they conveniently came packaged with so many extra ones that he could quite literally grab himself a handful and then just throw it down his throat, not even bothering with chewing; instead, a large, somewhat wriggling lump made its way down into his neck before vanishing somewhere just above the collarbone, with a loud gurgle making it obvious when the first victims of the leopard’s rampage splashed against stomach acid.
Within seconds, the giant’s hyperactive metabolism kicked into even higher gear, not only making short work of his latest snacks, but adding even more mass onto him, the efficiency of it only getting more and more ludicrous the more Cookie indulged in the sort of rampant predatory hunting that he’d been denied back home; soon enough, around the same time as panic truly set in and people began to run away from him, the titan was deliberately rounding people up using his tail, corralling large numbers of delicious little treats before bending down and grabbing so many of them that he had to drop them onto his open mouth like he had scooped up water using both hands, fluid being replaced by a mass of screaming, meekly-protesting little apes who thought that if they kicked hard enough, then maybe they could save their lives. How little did they know that such lives weren’t even worth saving; they were prey, things to be consumed by an apex predator like the leopard, treats for him to spend time savouring, each one only adding to a body that took up increasing amounts of space on the horizon.
It was clear to Cookie that he was growing far in excess to what he had expected, especially after he became tall enough to compete with skyscrapers for sheer height, even if he already surpassed them in weight; in fact, he appeared to be getting more out of his meals than he was putting in, with each individual human snack giving him extra feet after a while, rather than just an inch or two. He couldn’t explain it, nor did he really intend to, as such a process obviously only existed for his own amusement, that he may abuse it and grow out of control in a very literal sense; sure, it made it slightly harder for him to catch anyone, seeing as he had to rip buildings off the ground and shake the people out of them after a while, but at the end of the day, it all just served to further affirm his full and total dominance over the planet.
Rather than just another snow leopard in a world filled with others who would gladly do what he was doing then, he was unique, one of a kind, a god to be worshipped and given sacrifices to… and if no one stepped forward and volunteered, he could just tear apart entire cities, whole chunks of urban sprawl, in his endless search for more sustenance. That he could grab a skyscraper with one hand and a large factory with another, simultaneously crushing both and having its occupants fall into his open maw as he shook both fistfuls of wreckage apart, was nothing more than further evidence that he had inherited that world, and could do with it as he pleased; even when he began to outgrow his surroundings by such a wide margin that it became almost impossible to even see anyone down below, he didn’t stop, for to do so would be to deny his own nature.
Even when he broke through multiple cloud layers and created large, radial cracks on the ground whenever he took a step, Cookie didn’t for a second even consider slowing down, much less stopping his now-apocalyptic feeding frenzy. Sure, it did mean he had to resort to such brutish measures as ripping entire chunks out of the urban jungle underneath him and then consuming them wholesale, but as long as there were prey in there, then he didn’t particularly care; in fact, as long as he kept growing, kept getting bigger and more powerful, then things were going according to plan as far as he was concerned. He wouldn’t stop until he was the undisputed ruler of this world, and this wouldn’t be achieved until he reached such a size that he could quite literally loom over it… and, given the speed at which he was ascending towards the heavens, this turned out to be a lot easier than he ever expected it to be.
Before long, he could feel a noticeable temperature difference between his paws, still stuck down near warmer air, and his head, rapidly speeding towards the coldness of the upper atmosphere; that he wouldn’t have oxygen to breathe didn’t concern him, for evidently he was some sort of deity, and deities didn’t need to breathe, they just had to be. Indeed, he simply willed himself to stop breathing after a while and it was perfectly fine, for he had much more important things to do, like hopping into orbit and then twisting himself around so he could face the planet, the hungry look on his face now visible to billions of people at the same time.
He briefly considered just chomping down on the whole thing, cracking open this Earth like an egg and then drinking whatever was on the inside before crunching down on the shell, but frankly, what good would that do? He escaped his world to impose himself upon another, and what was a king without subjects to rule over? Better that he consume just enough that his form would burgeon outwards to the point where he could use this planet as his own personal throne, to a size where he could very easily adjust his bottom on one of the poles and turn the very globe itself into a beanbag of sorts. It caused significant tectonic distress and would lead to large chunks of that world starting to break off, plus it was obviously only a temporary state of affairs before his hunger spiked to such an absurd level again that he’d get up and chow down on the whole thing like he’d just thought, but as he sat there, in those short moments, he felt more powerful than he ever had before.
His eyes fixated on a universe that would be his one day, knowing that his own world was out there somewhere, while his tail lazily swept across vast swaths of the Earth, smoothing it out for later consumption.
Everything had gone far better than expected.
And he was hungry still. |
Now, to be fair, it wasn’t her fault that someone had climbed up a tree that they couldn’t climb back down from; that was her story and she was sticking to it. It didn’t exactly help that much when it came to the whole “accidental consumption” thing she had going, but then again, who was really to blame there? The random hiker who decided to go off the beaten path and ended up stuck on a tree because of a cougar, or the dutiful, fastidious squirrel who took time off of her very busy schedule to go save a city dweller from a fate that was entirely their own doing? Frankly, it was their own fault they fell into her tail… even if being “eaten” by it wasn’t really on them.
Such thoughts swam around inside Julianna’s head as she walked down the same trail she took to get to the distress call, her cheeks burning after having to call in what had happened. Typically, things didn’t really go that badly, but at least Central Dispatch was understanding of it; accidents had a tendency of happening, after all, and she shouldn’t be beating herself up too much for something that really wasn’t her fault. How could she have predicted that the cat stuck up the tree would fall onto her in such a way as to accidentally open her shirt and reveal her bosom, thus causing the squirrel to turn around in embarrassment and ending up burying the poor guy in her bushy, and now far bushier, tail? It was a set of circumstances that no one really had any control over… or at least that’s what those involved chose to believe in. The truth was probably somewhere else.
Still, now Julianna had to deal with a tail that was far larger and much more unwieldy than usual, leading her to have to readjust her center of gravity on the fly. It wasn’t the first time she ended up accidentally absorbing someone into it, but seeing as it always went back to normal after about a week, it never gave the squirrel any time to really get used to it, given that she wasn’t going around eating people for no reason. It was such an embarrassing thing to happen though, that every time it did, Julianna found herself with two luminescent spots near-permanently burned into her cheeks regardless of whether or not anyone was around, which really, only made the problem worse; being as frazzled by the experience as she was, it was easy for the squirrel to completely lose control of her own powers, turning the area immediately around her into a hazard zone for anyone who didn’t want to get whapped in the everything by a very hungry tail in need of extra victims. That she was painfully aware of this only worsened everything, hence why Julianna made sure to rush to her post as quickly as possible in order to at least try to calm down.
The rest of her shift didn’t go by as easily as she hoped it would. The combination of her tail being so much fluffier than usual with the fact that most park-goers around that time of year liked to bring the whole family along made for some awkward moments where she had to dance around small children, lest she accidentally do something that everyone would regret later; hours passed with her having to hold back the side of her that constantly told her to just relax and let go, with the squirrel valiantly battling her own impulses for the sake of everyone else. It was only after she clocked out that Julianna allowed herself some measure of relaxation, but even that was marred by her having to wait for ten minutes just so people would clear out of the parking lot near the entrance; wouldn’t want someone to accidentally bump into her and cease existing.
Now, why exactly she thought that going to the city in order to chill out was a good idea was anyone’s guess; when Julianna’s nerves and bashfulness were both on full activation, the squirrel wasn’t really known for making the best of decisions, and given just how much she had to strain herself to get through the day, the thought of sitting down in the corner of a large café and enjoying a good mug of coffee sounded positively heavenly to her. Besides, she knew of a good place to go, and it happened to have plenty of parking space available at around that time of the afternoon, so if she hurried up she could potentially get there and not have to worry about anything until closing time!
Or at least, that was the plan. Reality, it seemed, wished to disagree vehemently with her, seeing as it not only threw rush hour traffic straight at her, but also an inordinate amount of activity in and around that section of downtown, courtesy of some kind of big concert that was supposed to happen later that night. Rather than a peaceful little slice of her home city, Julianna was beset by massive crowds of eager young folk who were all rushing to leave their cars in the absolute worst spots possible, leaving her unable to maneuver her own anywhere near where she wanted to go. What was even more disheartening was how she could see the damned café and how empty it was, practically taunting her with how much peace and quiet she could be getting if only all those damned idiots weren’t blocking the way!
Fuming, the squirrel gal turned around at the earliest convenience and drove to the nearest shopping mall, figuring that if she couldn’t park anywhere convenient, at least she could do so somewhere where she wouldn’t have to pay to keep her ride there. That this meant she was putting plenty of distance in between herself and the café didn’t really register with her until she was turning the key in the ignition, at which point Julianna flinched, her eyes were suddenly fixated on the steering wheel, and the full realization of what she had done dawned in her. She felt like smashing her face against the dashboard, and after getting all of her screams out of her system, the young woman got all of her stuff from the backseat, took a deep breath, then walked out of the car. She wasn’t that far away, merely ten or so minutes on foot.
Surely nothing major could go wrong in such a short time period.
It was almost funny just how wrong she was, or would be if not for the consequences of it. The concert-goers were apparently quite warm to the idea of getting cheap food and drinks from the nearest possible source, and that meant storming the local malls for the best deals while there was still stock available. This, coupled with the usual crowds, made it significantly harder to navigate her way out of the parking lot and into the streets without bumping into anyone; it would’ve been a lot easier if her tail hadn’t been puffed up to its current size, easily bigger than she was herself, but if that were true then she wouldn’t be there to begin with! Honestly, it was bad enough that Julianna didn’t know whether to cover her face to bite back tears or scream profanities towards the heavens; either way, she had to get moving before things got worse, because by that point, she was convinced things would get worse.
Almost as if by design, she almost immediately got caught in the middle of a large crowd that erupted from the lower levels of the parking lot when she wasn’t looking, a whole bunch of random people that had all apparently decided to leave their cars at the same time and then walk out without bothering to check if there was something or someone in the way. Julianna would be lying if she said she saw them coming; the first indication the squirrel had that they were even there at all, courtesy of her tail blocking most of her view, was the tail itself. One moment it was the same size it had been most of the day, the next it was suddenly becoming fluffier, thicker, far longer, and her own body began to feel warm and slightly tight; the confused mumbling gave way to screaming and then eventually silence, as in her frantic attempts at trying to dodge the incoming group of people, Julianna ended up swatting all of them with her bushy tail, quite conveniently adding their mass to it.
It all happened so quickly that she didn’t even know what to say or do. In just a few moments, she had accidentally devoured goodness knows how many innocent bystanders purely by happenstance, and if that fact alone wasn’t enough to get her face blushing so hard it looked like a red lamp, then what happened next certainly would, because her body, being the way that it was, immediately leapt at the opportunity to “improve” itself with all that extra mass.
Her one saving grace was that the growth was always temporary. Within a short week, she’d be back to her normal self with absolutely no repercussions (and, annoyingly enough, no permanent change to her curves, not even a tiny one); this happened every time without fail… but it didn’t really make the process of growing into the size she would shrink from any more bearable. In fact, knowing that it was all going to go away eventually actually made it harder for Julianna to grin and bear it, because part of her wanted to break through the self-imposed embarrassment and just enjoy itself while it lasted, a section of her personality that the squirrel had to work overtime to cordon off and not pay attention to.
This was easier said than done when her growth was immediate and about as subtle as a sledgehammer being used to demolish a wall. While most of the absorbed mass went straight to her tail, turning what was already an enormous pile of fur into something that could very easily block an entire road if she were to lay it down from sidewalk to sidewalk, a small portion of it was sent to the rest of her; seeing as it didn’t happen nearly often enough to justify her taking precautions against it, this meant that Julianna was stuck wearing clothes that really didn’t have the give necessary to survive her growth spurt, tiny as it may have been. Within just a few seconds, she heard the seams tearing and the cloth ripping as she grew outwards, the tightness growing as her body went up by a good foot and a half and her assets received just enough extra pudge to make short work of her underwear and bra. It wasn’t enough to tear through her whole attire, but whatever was left didn’t leave much for the imagination; being out in the open as she was, this was a slight issue for the squirrel’s perpetual awkwardness.
It didn’t help that the sudden disappearance of a good two dozen people or so inevitably attracted the sort of attention that Julianna really wasn’t ready for; worst of all, it wasn’t entirely negative! While there were plenty of folks berating her or even calling for help over the “giant tail eater” or other, far less respectful monikers, others were, for some reason, trying to make passes at her… or even worse. The squirrel knew for a fact that there were some people who legitimately would love to go through what she accidentally did to those poor people without even realizing it, and unfortunately for her, she was too big to really stop them; while her body itself hadn’t become too unwieldy, being of just slightly above-average height, that absolutely colossal tail she was sporting made it exceedingly hard to even move at all, let alone have any kind of control over it whatsoever. The many bystanders around her were quick to pick up on this, and before the squirrel could think to move away properly, they exploited it in the only way they could: throwing themselves into her tail.
Quite fortuitously, the sudden jolt of electricity running up her spine when she felt the addition of mass was enough to get Julianna to bolt out of there as quickly as she could, a couple of chancers managing to grab enough of her fur that it eventually absorbed them completely, making a further mess of her clothes and turning any and all tail management into a complete impossibility. That thing was as wide as the sidewalk she was on, potentially wider still in some sections, and with the streets being so packed with people as they were at that time of day, accidental absorptions were inevitable; no matter how hard Julianna tried to dodge, how much she yelled or even her many attempts at shoving people out of the way she went through, it seemed that for every snack she avoided, another one ended up contributing to her exponential growth, whether accidentally or not. Soon enough, there would be no other option; the squirrel had simply outgrown her ability to avoid more consumption, and at that point, why even bother anymore?
Meanwhile, her captive audience was forced to deal with the most curious of sights: a young, female squirrel, carrying behind her a tail that reached several stories up and seemed to be getting taller still, wearing clothes that were clearly too small for her, constantly apologizing as she accidentally bumped into people and either smushed them against the side of a building or shoved them into that enormous brush attached to the bottom of her spine… people that went in, never came out, and seemed to be making that tail bigger. Fear was inevitable, as was the exact opposite reaction once other kinksters were given their dream scenario on a silver platter, resulting in an extremely confusing mess of emotions all contributing to an absolute disaster of a mass panic; at the very least, it helped clear the streets out just enough that Julianna eventually had room to move in without needing to consume anyone else, even if it did come at the cost of… goodness, she didn’t even want to think about that number.
Ultimately though, the café was there, on the other side of a now-empty street, with a handful of terrified-looking pairs of eyes staring at her from the other side of the window. The squirrel was so far gone, so much in need of some kind of reprieve, that her body was effectively running on auto-pilot by that point; with car pile-ups mounting on both ends of the road and the number of pedestrians thinning out, there was nothing in the way that could stop her from stumbling onto the front door and then fumbling with the handle for a couple of minutes before realizing it wasn’t opening. It was only then, when she was ready to get down on her knees to beg to be let in, that she noticed a small sign on the glass next to her.
“CLOSED FOR CONCERT - OPEN MONDAY!” |
He should’ve guessed that there’d be something more to the job when it paid so much for what was, ostensibly, a single afternoon’s easy work. “Some minor overgrowth” indeed, the gryphon thought to himself as he walked up to the abandoned property and saw literally nothing but green over every surface; if that was minor, that he was slim and lithe, because that place looked like no one had lived in it for at least a good couple of decades. Hell, it was probably a steal for whoever decided to buy it; Pita was certain that, some time in the past, the estate might very well have been a grandiose property worth millions, but now that the inexorable advance of the clock’s hands had left most of it in a complete state of disrepair, it was no wonder that the lucky buyer needed someone to go clean it up in their stead.
When even the front gate took five minutes to open thanks to all the rust, Pita started to realize he might have been underpaid for the amount of labor he was supposed to perform, because there was no way he was going to get a three-story manor cleaned up, on his own, within a week, not when it was so completely overrun by vines and overgrowth that every single window had been broken and the front door was wide open… well, apart from the brambles which had turned it into their new home. The gryphon winced as he set aside his cleaning equipment, taking the time to tuck his shirt into his pants and the pants themselves into his shoes; the least amount of feathers and skin he had vulnerable the better, as he certainly wasn’t leaving that place without plenty of scratches. His rotund belly didn’t help things either; it would’ve been hard enough squeezing into a frankly miniscule door to begin with, but now that he had to deal with who knew how many years’ worth of overgrowth to go along with it, he found himself having to physically squeeze that gut of his through, all while wincing as the various sharp edges bit into him from every direction.
Once inside, things weren’t better either; sunlight barely managed to filter into the interior, with the plants covering the windows joining forces with the ludicrous amount of dust floating in the air to create a murky, almost choking atmosphere. Pita had a moment where he felt genuine fear, as his brain was suddenly beset by the idea that, should he breathe in too deeply, he’d somehow inhale spores and take root along with the rest of the plants around him; a ludicrous belief, surely, but when the gryphon did try breathing in and felt his lungs aching almost immediately, one coughing fit later he had a mask firmly over and around his beak, hoping that would be enough. He’d expected to be able to ascertain the damage with a quick once-over of the house, but that had been before he drove over to the estate and saw how enormous it was; it felt that the deeper he went into it, the the denser the infestation became, with some corridors being outright blocked by thick, oddly pulsating vines, ones that rustled audibly despite there being no wind to move the stale air around.
In fact, the more he tried charting the inside of the house, the more claustrophobic Pita felt, and the more he became convinced that something, or someone, was watching him; there was a presence there, an overbearing one that refused to show itself, an entity that did not like having an interloper break into a home that it had taken over. Perhaps it understood what the gryphon’s presence meant, or maybe it was just territorial; whatever it was, the noises Pita kept hearing could not possibly be natural, not when they were almost perfectly timed to whenever he discovered a new section of the house or tried pushing deeper through sections of overgrowth. He’d tried to convince himself it was just the building “settling”, but he hadn’t heard a single thing until he deliberately tried to break open a door in the second floor beyond which he saw an odd glow, and now that he thought about it, maybe it’d be a good idea to cut his losses and get as far away from the overgrown manor as possible.
The pay was good, but it wasn’t nearly high enough to justify him going up against plant ghosts or whatever else lived in there; better to be blacklisted than risk possession… or worse. He was just about to leave, with the front door visible a few feet ahead, when he lost his balance; not a big deal as far as he was concerned, as even though the fall certainly hurt a bit, and he’d need to pick all of his equipment up again, it was expectable. Pita recognized that he wasn’t the most athletic of individuals, and him trying to rush his way through a place like that was bound to have him fall flat on his flabby front. Unfortunately for him, he failed to get back on his feet; though he did try, it became clear very quickly that something was holding him down, something pushing on his back and preventing him from raising it more than a couple of inches off the floor… before he couldn’t even manage that at all.
His eyes went wide, his beak opening to deliver a cry for help right before a vine appeared from nowhere and wrapped itself around it, keeping it nice and shut and its owner panicking as he realized just what was going on. A frantic look around him revealed that there was nothing on his back at all; rather, an incredibly thick, dangerously slimy vine, not unlike the one keeping him silent (albeit significantly larger) had wrapped itself around him, and even further down the gryphon could tell that he’d accidentally caught his foot on a perfect loop of some of the undergrowth on the floor, which he could only imagine had been created precisely to catch him. Whatever spirit inhabited the house was mad, and now he was going to suffer because of it; all Pita could hope for was that the entity was feeling merciful, or that it would at least recognize that the intruder wasn’t a threat, merely an unwitting pawn of someone else who the gryphon now believed had deliberately sent him into the proverbial lion’s den.
Soon enough, more vines began to crawl over Pita’s body, looping around his wrists, ankles, arms, legs, any part of him that they could find; sooner still, he was lifted from the ground, pulled up into the air until the floor was several feet below him, and his body reached the geometric center of the entrance foyer. There he waited, practically floating, covered in organic appendages under the control of some great, unfathomable ghost-thing, wondering what was going to happen to him; that this exact scenario had been played out in a few videos he’d seen before, videos which were most definitely not supposed to be terrifying (quite the contrary), the gryphon was getting mixed signals out of the experience. It wasn’t until his legs were spread open and the tight hold on his beak was loosened somewhat that he realized what was going to happen to him… at which point, Pita still didn’t know whether he should call for help or shut up and enjoy the ride for what it was; it wasn’t as if anyone was near enough to hear him scream anyway[a].
Then again, he was about to scream anyway, because whatever was controlling the plants seemed utterly uncaring when it came to foreplay or lubrication; from the moment he felt his legs spread to the first tentacle-like vine being stuffed directly into his tailhole was just a second or two, after which the gryphon could do little but let out a loud, half-pained yelp as he felt his insides be stretched apart to accommodate something much, much larger than any shaft he’d ever taken of his own accord. This, as it seemed, was exactly what the plants wanted, as they took the opportunity to fill his mouth as well: no sooner had Pita inhaled and let loose than another vine wriggled its way from outside his field of view and unceremoniously shoved itself down his throat, muffling him completely and yet somehow bypassing his gag reflex. Rather than want to vomit, the gryphon found himself far calmer than ever before, as if the very presence of those two intrusive, apparently sentient appendages had injected him with just enough painkillers to drive him into the right state of wooziness that he’d be left unable to resist whatever the plant creature wanted… which, to be fair, was most likely what was happening.
With his eyes half-lidded and his mind hazy, the gryphon couldn’t quite make out what was happening to him anymore; he knew he was still up in the air, and could feel the vines plugging him gently press further into him, filling his insides even more. If he focused, he could just barely make out that both of those things were secreting something sweet and syrupy, not unlike tree sap, albeit significantly more addictive now that he’d had a taste; it was probably bad for him, hell, there was a non-zero chance that the “sap” might very well turn him into a plant creature to help further infest the manor, but as he began drooling the substance, as it started oozing from his ass as well, Pita couldn’t bring himself to fight it anymore. He gulped, and heavily so, hoping to consume more of the delicious treat, barely cognizant of the world around him; it was a mark of how far gone the gryphon was that the plant vines around him produced yet another probing appendage, this one directing itself at the tip of the captive’s cock, and Pita still didn’t notice.
Sure, there was a certain pressure in his dick, but that was probably because the experience was significantly more pleasurable than he ever expected it to be; poor guy never noticed how the very plants surrounding him had opened yet another avenue for the “sap” to be poured into him… or, more specifically, to be dumped directly into his nuts! The reason for this generosity, as Pita came to understand it as, became apparent… some time later. The gryphon had lost track of how long he’d been there, floating in the air, suspended from the ceiling (floor?) by what he had begun believing were previous cleaning crews that had themselves been tricked by the estate’s supposed owner; it could’ve been hours or just minutes and it wouldn’t even matter, as by that point, only the continued pumping of sap was even remotely relevant, only gulping it down more, failing to notice as not only was it bloating his belly even further, but that his two balls down below had ballooned to a truly immense size as well: each one was a beanbag, sloshing and churning aggressively, and while one might be forgiven for thinking this was the end state for them, Pita would eventually be surprised by the plant creature’s true motive.
It was easy to miss at first, owing to how dark and grimy it was in there, but something else started travelling down the length of the vine that led down the gryphon’s throat; while the sap forced the appendage to bloat and distend rhythmically as the substance was pumped through, this lump was significantly bigger, as if a large, oval-shaped object was slowly pushed through via the vine’s “muscle” spasms. Pita remained blissfully unaware of this until it was too late to do anything about it, until he felt his jaw practically dislocate as a hard, solid object was pushed through his mouth and down his throat, before being deposited directly into his stomach with enough force that the gryphon felt it drop, felt the extra weight of what was, unmistakably, an egg.
That this defied all conventional knowledge was of no concern to the captive cleaner; plants didn’t lay eggs, but that seemed hardly important when confronted with the fact that the damned thing was there anyway, thus leaving Pita with no recourse but to accept it and move on. Not that it was particularly difficult; either his mind had broken down completely or whatever that sap was had been pumped into him precisely to prepare for the insertion, because suddenly having an egg the size of a soccer ball forced down his gullet wasn’t nearly as painful as it rightfully should be. In fact, as soon as his jaw stopped aching, Pita wanted nothing more than to beg for another one, which was right about when he remembered he still had another vine through which to be stuffed with eggs… and, as soon as he tried looking for it, realized that there was a third one he’d missed entirely!
The sight of his nuts, bloated to such an impossible degree that he really should’ve noticed before, pushed him even further into an insensate state, and by the time he spotted the first lump travelling down the vine attached to his ass, there was very little of the conscious Pita left inside of him. Nothing but instinct, and the most debased of ones as well, the few who wanted to feel what it was like to be stuffed with eggs and turned into a living incubator for some kind of eldritch floral monster of indeterminate origin. Did it matter that he could feel his body being bloated, growing heavier by the second as the number of lumps travelling down the vines increased significantly? Did it matter that his already-bloated nuts were stuffed further as they were turned into repositories for yet more (supposed) young for the creature holding him down?
No. The answer was just that: it didn’t matter. Not when he had more sap that he could gulp down and be pumped with, to make room for more eggs to fill him, more eggs to make him swell with new life. He wasn’t even thinking of cleaning up, nor could he; whatever happened to bring him to the estate felt like it had happened so long before that it might as well have not been part of his life to begin with, little more than a footnote in someone else’s existence. For him, for the gryphon-turned-egg dumpster, the only parts that were remotely interesting and worth paying attention to began barely five minutes prior, when he was plugged on both ends by whatever that plant monster was. If only he could speak; there were so many words he wanted to fail to say, his voice most likely being too broken for him to put coherent sentences together. He’d moan and whine, beg and blurt out nonsense words, and in the end, he’d just have his beak stuffed and more eggs shoved down his throat.
Just like it should be.
[a]BOOKMARK - 1250 WORDS |
It was a cold night for a lizard, especially one as tiny as Lex, hence why he’d chosen to spend it snuggling up to his very special other underneath multiple layers of blankets. The two of them were sitting on the couch, enjoying an incredibly terrible Christmas movie whose name they had forgotten, and had been for the past several hours; whenever one of those flicks ended they’d just queue up another one, because the point wasn’t to watch anything: it was to have an excuse to be together in a cold winter night, while also being able to pretend they weren’t doing it for the physical proximity. Not that they were uncomfortable with it, but it was a game they enjoyed playing; Lex would act all coy and adopt the role of the pliable, subby bottom, while Robert would employ his trademark domineering personality to great effect by leveraging his far beefier body as a heat source the tinier lizard could wrap himself around. The feline didn’t even have to wear clothes, not when he had Lex there to use him as a body pillow; thus, the two spent their time whiling away the hours until they could go to bed and proceed to more... intimate activities.
Of course, part of it was because Lex had his own plans for that night, plans that he hadn’t quite disclosed to his partner du jour, but was certain that they wouldn’t mind; for the lizard was not like every other reptile of his species, but rather possessed a very unique set of skills that allowed him to act on his eternal need for external warmth. That is to say, he could do more than just sit in front of a radiator and bask in the heat radiating from it, by directly sucking it up from other people around him; it was a very uncomfortable process, capable of outright freezing someone unless they had taken adequate measures to protect themselves… which is precisely why Robert had gone to such great lengths to bury the both of them beneath so many thick layers that they could barely see out of them. Lex, meanwhile, was already hard at work siphoning as much excess heat as he could out of his newest partner, knowing full well that, by the time he was done, the cat’s contributions would run far deeper than that.
Unbeknownst to the hunky feline, their current companion was capable of doing far more than just stealing heat. One wouldn’t imagine it just by looking at them, but Lex had an innate ability to “borrow” the best and most alluring attributes from those who he got closest to, even if only temporarily; it was always a surprise that he sprung on unsuspecting lovers, especially during more intimate moments, for the sake of maximum impact. Nothing sold dominance and power more than literally rutting the size out of someone while looming progressively more over them, making the bed squeak and groan each time they slammed their butt down on whatever shaft they happened to be stealing size from. It always ended up with a very worn-out, scared looking little thing looking up at an aggressively buff, tough and rough lizard, believing themselves to be a single moment away from death… before they spent the rest of the night cuddling and snuggling together, as Lex allowed the stolen mass to slowly seep back into its rightful owner. It was something he adored doing, and something that had cost him every relationship up until then; as much as people enjoyed it, very few had the mental fortitude required to go through that size of size-stealing process whenever they wanted to get frisky, much less live with someone who could turn them into tinier versions of themselves at a whim. But Robert was different… or at least Lex liked to believe he was.
The cat was kind, caring, and surprisingly gentle for someone who could bench-press him without breaking a sweat. He had a wide range of interests in fields that, at first glance, wouldn’t be stereotypically associated with someone of his body type, not to mention a deep, almost encyclopedic knowledge on extremely obscure Soviet animation that he cherished above all else. Him and Lex spent hours upon hours talking about nothing in particular, something they enjoyed doing almost as much as just snuggling while pretending to watch a movie, all of which had led the lizard to believe that, if anyone would ever be fine with having their size stolen in a moment of deep, physical proximity for the purposes of enhancing their sexual enjoyment, it would be him. There was something about that cat that made him feel special, be it the complex mind hiding behind a well-crafted “dudebro” persona he enjoyed showing off to the world, or just the way his smile melted Lex’s heart into butter; whatever the case may be, the liz knew that the two of them were meant to be together for a very long time… perhaps even permanently, if they played their cards right, which is precisely why he was so reticent to get started on the display of transformative powers.
“Hey, Rob?” Lex spoke up, tightening the hug he was giving, “I wanted to talk to you about something?”
“Hmm?” was the cat’s response, looking down for a second to give his partner a smile before bringing a headpat to bear, “What is it, hun?”
“You know how I was talking about how I could uh… take your warmth and all that? Y-you know, that conversation?”
“The one you stopped midway through and insisted you didn’t have anything else to say?” Robert chuckled, “Yeah, what about it?”
“W-well, there… there was something else I wanted to say. But I dunno how to say it without scaring you off, and I don’t wanna scare you off, s-”
The lizard was interrupted by a single finger being raised to his muzzle, his soon-to-be-lover shushing him quietly with a wide, warm smile still stamped on his face. He could’ve said something, could’ve reassured Lex that everything was fine and he needn’t worry about anything, that whatever it was they wanted to say, they could just say it and not have to worry. He could’ve gone to great lengths to reassure the small liz that he well and truly loved them, and wished for nothing more than for them to be truthful and honest with him. He could’ve… but didn’t. Because he didn’t need to. All the cat had to do was smile that beautiful smile, and suddenly Lex knew for a fact that, above all else, he was safe; whatever it was he had to do, whatever it was that happened between them, come hell or high water, he was safe. It was an interesting thing to feel, considering his previous romantic exploits, and it thus only made his desire to show off his powers that much more complicated and hard to initiate… but surely, if Robert was as understanding as Lex felt he was, then it would be… fine. There would be some explaining to do, and a lot of frantic, panicked flailing, but ultimately the feline would not only be ok with his partner’s unique abilities, he’d probably encourage them so the two could experiment in the bedroom!
Or, at least, that’s what Lex hoped would happen.
He moved closer, wrapping his arms even tighter around Robert’s chest. His rock-solid, toned, muscular chest… his hardened pecs, his chiseled abs, that glorious mane of fur, all of it. He was conflicted, torn between doing his usual thing and trying to go for a different approach, as the mere thought of giving up this soft warmth for the sake of shock value was becoming more and more unbearable for him. Was this how it felt to be head over heels for someone? Because things were a lot simpler when his emotions didn’t run as deeply as they did here; he could just steal all that beefiness away, gloat about it, then move onto the next person on the docket… but he didn’t want to, not now, not with Rob, and this made things a lot harder than they should, by all means, be.
Lex looked up, locking eyes with the big cat and hoping to find some semblance of comfort in them. His partner was still looking down at him, still with the same soft, mellowed-out expression that sold the “Go ahead, it’s fine,” spiel that needn’t be said. It was clear that the feline was expecting something to happen, and in fact found the absence of it to be quite entertaining, if nothing else; Robert had grown accustomed to seeing his precious lizard flustered over the most inconsequential of things, so this sudden shift in attitude wasn’t all that surprising as far as he was concerned. Lex, meanwhile, was struggling with himself over whether or not to go forward with his plan or just fall back and hope they could forget about everything… but that would just be dishonest. How could he expect their relationship to blossom properly if he wasn’t upfront about what he liked doing? It’s not as if it was permanent either, the cat wouldn’t be stripped of his hunky status for more than a few hours at worst, so it was best to just get it over with as soon as possible.
To that end, the lizard slowly sunk his fingers into his lover’s back, just enough for them to notice but not too strongly as to be painful. He felt the muscle mass underneath it, felt his consciousness expand to encompass every inch of it that there was, each muscle group identified and neatly catalogued inside Lex’s mind. It was important to take from each one in proportion, lest both their bodies end up looking like a misshapen mess; very slowly, and exercising a level of caution that he normally didn’t bother with, the liz began to siphon the raw muscle mass away from the larger feline, transferring it through his fingertips and into his own body. It wasn’t too much at first, at least not enough for the feline to notice anything happening, but after a few minutes of it, Lex could absolutely feel the hardened, rippling skin that he was holding onto softening beneath his touch, the enormous pecs and chiselled abs seemingly “sinking” into the cat’s body as his chest flattened and lost its toned physique. Robert, to his credit, appeared to be aware of what was going on, judging from the semi-surprised expression he sported, but said nothing about it; in fact, he was proactive about the whole thing, bringing a hand over to his partner’s head and gently patting it in just the right way to send shivers down the lizard’s spine.
The amount of room underneath the blanket cover didn’t change, but it did grow cramped in the exact opposite direction it had been so far. The two lovers’ size equalized after about ten minutes of size theft, far longer than Lex usually took; he figured that if he took things slowly enough and gave Rob a chance to back out at any point, then it would all end up a lot better than all the other times, and to his immense surprise, not only was his partner wholly aware of what was happening after a certain point, but his only reaction was to allow his arm to fall by his side and start purring, apparently enjoying the sensation of being sucked up and shrunk to feed his partner’s thirst for mass. Given that he wasn’t aware it was temporary, it said quite a lot about his personality, enough that, despite Lex slowly picking up the pace until he was larger than Robert had been, the lizard was the one who still blushed the hardest and failed to come up with any coherent words. He wanted to make it well-known just how much he appreciated the gesture, and yet the only thing he could think to do was… carry on doing it, the same way he always did; muscle memory won the day, though at least neither of them were willing to complain about it.
The low creaking that usually accompanied his transformations was nowhere to be heard, replaced with the soft rumbling of Robert’s purring and the odd clicking noises that Lex’s throat made whenever the lizard happened to be so happy that he couldn’t say words properly. The room was warmer, more welcoming, the atmosphere inviting and seemingly pushing them closer to one another. Despite the difference in size mounting between them again, Lex continued to tighten his hug, not really caring about the fact that he was going to be smothering his beloved very soon; Robert said nothing about it, preferring to snuggle up closer still, even as his body, which he had worked on and perfected over the course of several years, was reduced to but a shell of its former self. He didn’t really care, to be fair; if anything, this was just an opportunity for him to start all over again and prove that he had the mental and physical fortitude for a full reset. It was a challenge, nothing more, and he welcomed it as much as he did every other in his life. And if it made Lex feel better about himself? Then that was just the cherry on top of the proverbial sundae for the cat, who was more than happy to go to such great lengths to be supportive towards his chosen partner.
Half an hour it took for the process to be finished, after which the two of them remained stationary, holding one another as tightly as they could without it being constricting. Lex and Robert had effectively switched places, with the former now having turned into a colossal, reptilian hunk that looked capable of bending steel just by putting it between his pecs, and the latter taking on the countenance of a helpless little kitty cat with far too much smugness for his own good. Despite this, it wasn’t the lizard who took the initiative in going horizontal over the couch, but the smaller feline, who despite his diminutive size seemed more than capable of pulling his larger partner down onto him, his canines showing as he licked his lips at the thought of being the bottom for once; honestly, if this is what Lex saw whenever he suggested they have some fun, then he fully understood why the liz was so weak-kneed all the time, because he (or, well, his physique) looked good. So good that the only part of his body that could still grow larger was already at full mast.
“This should wear off in a few hours,” Lex spoke up, his voice growly and gravelly, far deeper than before, “then you’ll be back to nor-”
Once again he was interrupted, this time by a surprisingly strong cat pulling him down into a long, deep, and unabashedly tongue-filled kiss that went on for so long that it veered straight into the ridiculous. But Lex didn’t care.
He was happy. |
It was her Christmas gift to herself… or at least that’s how she chose to see it. For herself and others, given how much trouble that group had been for the local sports center; really, all it took was for one of them to win the deadlift competition in a year with no real actual competitors for the one cunt and his sycophants to start wasting their time barging into the gym and making a colossal ass out of themselves, bragging to anyone who’d listen about how they’d kick their ass in a “real” fight and all manner of absurdities alike. The owner, not wanting to start a whole “thing” over this, rolled over and took it, preferring to let the group get it out of their system than risk having them vandalize the establishment when he wasn’t looking; everyone else, however, had had it with five or six idiots, and were just about ready to issue a collective complaint when Aleksi stepped in and proposed to handle things herself.
With a body like hers, no one believed her, not even in the slightest, but with plenty of honeyed words and a few well-placed compliments here and there, the lizardess managed to get people onboard with a plan that they weren’t even aware of. In truth, she had no intention of “dealing” with the problem itself; rather, she was going to intimidate the half a dozen yahoos into never returning to the sports center ever again, and was going to do that in the one way that guaranteed she got her Christmas present early. It wasn’t something she got to do every day, nor a pleasure she was allowed to indulge in with any regularity; people who were worth spending time on in such a manner were, thankfully, few and far between, hence why Aleksi relished the opportunity whenever she got it, never mind how ludicrously terrible it was or how easy it would be for it to bite her back in the ass.
In her mind, it was quite simple: the issues began when the leader of the gang “won” the deadlift event, and the only reason he did so was because he happened to be somewhat stronger than the pitiful competition that had bothered to sign up, with most of the regulars being off on an event that was decidedly not local in the slightest. In reality, the young man would barely be able to lift any of the weights that some of Aleksi’s friends and fellow gym-goers regularly exercised with, which made their claims of physical superiority laughable on every single level… but they weren’t skinny. All things considered, they were fit, and they did have some musculature to them; it just so happened that it wasn’t much, but for Aleksi’s plans, it was more than enough.
It was with a toothy grin that she made her way into the gym that morning, making a hard right to the underground changing rooms; she made sure to arrive earlier than usual, to give herself some time to prepare, and hopefully have a chat with the staff and a handful of the older gym rats so they’d know what was happening. For everyone else though, things were taking place just as they always did: the lizardess walked down, she walked back up dressed in her gym attire, then took position on one of the treadmills, like she always did. She was a runner, not a fighter, certainly not a bodybuilder or powerlifter, which just left everyone else that much more puzzled as to why she would offer to be the one to take care of their problem group for them. No one had a clue, and that was exactly how Aleksi liked it; this way, she could not only get herself a nice size prize, but thoroughly surprise everyone in the process, and quite likely end up elevating herself in everyone’s esteem just at the right time to maybe ask for that one watch she really, really wanted but couldn’t afford.
Selfish, perhaps, but she had no intention of abusing it for anything else, and given that she was performing a public service here, she felt it was somewhat acceptable to expect something in return.
That, and she really wanted that watch; it was exceedingly pretty.
As expected, a few minutes after opening hours, the double-wide doors opened once more, that time to reveal an unfortunate gaggle of misfits whose main selling point was the ability to get on everyone’s nerves with only one word: a very loud, very enthusiastic “Yo!”, spoken with a nasally tone and heralding the end of everyone’s good time. Brows were furrowed and curses muttered under breaths as all others in the room prepared to have their calm and peace utterly broken in half by the delinquents… that is, at least, until Aleksi hopped off the treadmill and began walking towards them. This alone was enough to get the group to pause; no one else had actually bothered to respond to any of their taunts, so for someone to do it was an absolute delight, especially since it was a tiny lizardess who looked barely capable of holding herself up, much less fight anyone.
From the look on the group’s faces, one could be forgiven for thinking Christmas came early for them, a thought unfortunately shared by most of everyone else; as much as the gym goers wanted to be rid of those six idiots, they couldn’t in good faith trust in Aleksi to do that for them, not when she was so… not. Maybe if Karl or Paul decided to get involved, maybe then they’d have a chance, but someone like her was just not going to get anything done. It was thus with no small amount of trepidation that the lizardess’ colleagues watched her walk forth towards her own doom, calmly stepping up to the smallest of the bunch, and nonchalantly placing one of her hands on the man’s shoulder… then pushing it down with just as little difficulty.
It took everyone watching a few seconds to realize what had happened, at which point their eyes shot wide open at what they were actually seeing: the man wasn’t just crouching down for no reason, he was shrinking, and the smiling lizardess apparently responsible for it grinning ever more wildly for it! Her body bulged outwards, taking on extra inches of height and bulk as she, for all intents and purposes, drained the poor bastard she had her hand on dry, stealing his body mass and adding it to her own; with the loudest cackle, the process was done and wrapped up in under a couple of minutes, leaving the previously diminutive lizardess close to six feet in height, and looking more like a professional kickboxer than an endurance marathon runner.
Aleksi, by that point drunk on lust for both herself and her new body-to-be, cracked her knuckles and neck, deliberately trying to make herself out to be as intimidating as possible, before taking one step forward and asking a question she’d been yearning to deliver for years:
“So, who’s next?”
The looks of terror were the first reward. The sound of the doors closing and being locked behind the group of terrified delinquents was the second one. And the whimpering that came right after, well, that was just the cherry on top of the sunday as far as Aleksi was concerned. She failed that willpower check not to lick her lips hard, going out of her way to make the gesture be as obvious as it could possibly be, advancing on her hapless victims until they were stumbling backwards over themselves in their haste to try and run away.
Notably, they had a great big wall of people behind them who were absolutely not going to let them through; much as the thought of Aleksi taking in all that extra mass was definitely unnerving plenty of them, given how the lizardess had never made that particular talent in any way evident, the thought of leaving the delinquents without punishment beat out every other consideration. And just as it did, so too did the gym-goers finally find the line they were willing to cross, their arms interlocked in front of the only way out, blocking the escape route for a very desperate group of young men who were just then being faced with the prospect of their comeuppance.
The second one to go barely even yelped when Aleksi grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, lifting him off the ground and above her, twisting him around just enough so that he could get a good look at her; wouldn’t want anything else, when their generous contribution would let her bulk up to the point where the two were matched in height, right before the growing lizardess became the taller one in that ephemeral relationship. Her second victim’s perspective thus went through a full shift, one that they observed through wide-open, terrified eyes: that of a predator with green scales, cackling and licking her lips unashamedly, staring him down like a delicious morsel only to drop him once she was done with him.
Tiny, inconsequential, frail, that’s what he’d become, right next to a mini-giantess who’d just broken through the eight foot line and carried a physique better fit for a career bodybuilder with a penchant for powerlifting on the side. Really, he’d be begging to grind his face against her abs if he hadn’t just been drained to make them a reality, and as much as the remaining members of the troupe were suddenly rather conflicted about the appropriate reaction to what they were seeing, terror and fright won the day when Aleksi stepped forward and took two of them at once; she giggled to herself as she leaned down and gave both them a long, exceedingly warm, and surprisingly tongue-filled smooch, going so far that both of them were left confused as to whether they’d been picked as mass batteries or as the first of the lizardess’ new harem… though their suddenly shrinking bodies made it very clear what the answer was.
By then, Aleksi was openly moaning, and loudly enough that the rest of the gym rats recoiled at the sound, fearful that if they got too close, they might just get caught up in the frenzy; not that the lizardess would be so unkind as to do it deliberately, of course, but with how much she was obviously enjoying herself, it was a risk no one was willing to take. Hence why they all shrunk back as Aleksi continued to gorge herself upon the mass of her little snacks, the ever-growing giantess figuring that if they weren’t using it for anything, then she might as well help herself to it. And help herself she did, with her own body expanding steadily in every direction, not just becoming taller and stronger overall, but filling out her curves to boot; granted, most of it was Aleksi herself directing the flow of her gains to where she thought would be best, rather than it just settling where it may, but if she was going so far, she might as well make sure her rump was plump enough for her (or anyone lucky enough to be with her at the time) to sink her fingers to, same with her frankly obscenely soft thighs and ample bosom.
It wasn’t enough to detract from the overall aesthetic, which was very much still on the side of strength rather than more “conventional” feminine beauty, but there was no reason why she couldn’t have both; it was her body after all, even if it wasn’t her mass, and she would do with it whatever she damned well wanted in the end. And what she wanted, after casually siphoning the fifth member of the group, was to get rid of that one last pesky delinquent, the little twerp who had begun the whole thing by winning a competition they had no place participating in to begin with, who was now outright begging with the people blocking the door to let him through, promising all sorts of favours and boons of dubious capacity to be fulfilled.
Oh, how Aleksi adored every moment of the approach; how she licked her lips, ripping the last vestiges of her sports top off herself, fully exposing her body to the warm interior of the gym. How she grinned, exposing her glinting teeth to the sunlight shining through the windows, pushing herself against the poor man’s back. How she delighted herself in the exercise of domination, her ten-plus foot frame looming over her last snack, the shadow cast by it keeping the crowd gathered at the exit cowed by her presence alone; it was everything she could’ve wanted, and indeed everything she’d been looking for in this early Christmas gift for herself, so much so that when she first laid hands on her final prey for the day, she didn’t immediately begin draining their mass from them.
No, she took her time, savouring her meal properly instead of going straight for the kill like she did with the other ones; she was going to enjoy that last one, especially now that she towered over him. Sure, he was more muscular than the average person, but that wasn’t saying much when a giantess like herself could still effortlessly pick him with one hand and stuff his face directly into her tits, leaving him scrambling for a reaction that wasn’t grabbing the obvious for leverage. She kept him there, firmly and without wiggle room, until he finally gave in and sunk his hands into her tits, prompting the lizardess to throw her head back, open her mouth, and let loose a sound that could be charitably described as lustful at its very best, to say nothing worse. It certainly made every bystander’s face light up red, and that was saying nothing regarding the state that her plaything’s mind was in; then again, that he was squirming only made the overall experience that much better, given how delectable it was to play with her food before she started devouring it, one wonderful bite at a time.
And how wonderful it was, when she had their eager little hands already making their best of what they were surrounded by, presumably activated by some primordial instinct; though the young man might be terrified and cowed into submission, his primal lizard brain certainly wasn’t… and neither was hers, given how fantastic of an opportunity this was. Every squeeze of his meant more mass for her to sap, every moan another pound, every wiggle another inch; she would drain him, sap him of all that he was, until his “prize” physique was nothing more than a handful of noodles connected to a limp chest and a weakling neck barely capable of holding up the head still very much stuck inside her cleavage. But that was fine; as soon as she hit thirteen feet, she was more than fine, in fact, and didn’t mind that she had an extra weight on her.
Hell, the day was barely started. And she had a whole new body to test-drive. |
The Lucario looked up at their trainer, not quite knowing if they should be raising an eyebrow, snarling, laughing, or everything at the same time. They’d been very adamant about not taking any shortcuts with their new workout schedule, and what did the Rena go and do? Buy a whole bag full of Rare Candies in order to “skip the boring parts” and get them to the “interesting bits” quicker. If not for the fact that the mental image was enough to get a small blush going, the Luca might’ve very well crushed the piece of candy in their hands and thrown it onto the ground; in the end though, the combination of his trainer’s genuine smile and the prospect of turning into some kind of super hunk was enough to get Tryn to acquiesce, and begin unwrapping the very first step in the two’s new journey.
Spikes had been the one to propose the idea of a new workout regimen, after seeing something about how Lucarios as a species were often highly receptive to specific types of physical exercise. There was no goal there beyond self-improvement; neither of them were really interested in badges or competitions, and really just wanted to see how far they could push the Luca’s limits… the Lucario himself especially so. There was always that one small voice in the back of his head, prompting him to try and work harder, push himself further, force his body to pack on even more muscle, but it never quite worked; he was fit, absolutely, but not the enormous pile of rippling muscles that he often fantasized about himself as. He wasn’t big enough to dominate a whole room just by being inside of it, nor could he bend steel by picking it up between two fingers and applying some minor force. His trainer, however, assured him that this was possible, if only they followed a very rigid and exacting schedule; the candies, as Spikes put it, were just a shortcut.
The Lucario didn’t really like the idea of cheating, but he couldn’t deny that he’d seen some absolutely gorgeous hunks that were exclusively the result of Rare Candy overdose; or, as their own trainers would say, “carefully planned” doses of the stuff that just happened to result in towering giants that loomed over everyone around them. He’d always envisioned himself as one of them, but never really wanted to resort to skipping ahead on the track; he felt as if he had to earn the size, not just be given it, which is why he insisted that he and the Rena work out as intended, and only resort to using the treats if there were no results whatsoever. Spikes, though clearly plotting something, agreed to these terms, and so the two began planning ahead.
The first candy, as expected, did very little. It provided the Lucario with a boost in power, but not much happened to his body beyond, maybe, his already-defined abs becoming slightly more visible. This was good, it meant that he wouldn’t be cheating too much if he took those things… though it also made him want to eat another one, a desire the Luca had to push out of his mind as quickly as it tried to intrude upon it, lest it be allowed to nestle and fester until it became an irresistible calling. He’d have plenty of opportunities to distract himself though; the workout itself was intense enough that neither he nor his Rena trainer really had any room for even idle chatter, let alone open fantasizing, and the two spent the rest of the afternoon making good use of the exercise room in their home, occasionally running laps around the house for good measure. Only after they were done with everything in the checklist did they give themselves some time to recover, if for no other reason other than because the moment they sat down, they really wouldn’t be able to get up again.
As it were, once the two of them collapsed on one of the benches in their gym room, they did nothing but try and catch their breath for ten minutes straight, occasionally stopping to take long swigs from a water bottle in a vain attempt at trying to stabilize themselves. It was hard work, and it was only the first day; the one after would be meant for resting, but the one after that would be yet another afternoon of nothing but pushing themselves to the limit. This sort of alternating pattern, at least according to Spikes’ research on the subject, was supposed to work very well for Lucarios… at least in theory. Tryn didn’t seem any different than he did after taking the first Rare Candy, though that was probably because he hadn’t had a second one to “seal” the results in.
The Luca complained all the way to having the treat placed on his hand, at which point all words ceased coming out of his mouth as he stared down at what he was holding. The Rena let him know that eating it would have “immediate results” and that it was supposed to lead to even greater gains, something the Lucario really wanted to hear; it just so happened that he still had that annoying voice in his head telling him that he needed to get things done the old-fashioned way or else it didn’t really “count”... though why exactly he should bother with that when this traditional manner of doing things had done nothing for him was anyone’s guess. Why was he trying to hold himself back? He’d been trying for years to turn himself into a mega hunk, to no results, so clearly something new was needed.
With a final nod, Tryn threw the candy up into the air and caught it on the way down, not even bothering to chew before swallowing it whole. For a second or two, he sat there thinking that the Rena had tricked him into expecting something impossible, as absolutely nothing happened, but once the bench snapped in half underneath him and his fall caused the paving on the floor to crack, Tryn was disabused of that notion. He barely had any time to look down at himself before he felt the transformation slam into him, a pressure crash bursting from within, pushing his body outwards as wave after wave of power threatened to make his entire body explode!
All Spikes could do was scurry backwards along the ground, eventually hitting the wall behind him; there, in front of him, the previously slim and athletic Lucario that he’d known for so long was growing outwards, their muscles bulging out, outright pulsating as they packed on more and more mass with each heartbeat, almost like their whole body was being filled with a pump, expanding outwards before shrinking back down to a size that was always slightly bigger than it had been before.
The growth spurt didn’t last long, but its effects were certainly… impressive. Not only did the Lucario end up blessed with an extra couple of feet in height, leaving him slightly woozy once he tried to get back up, but it had taken his previously thin physique and widened it considerably. Nothing but muscle there, but there was plenty of it to go around, from the broad, door-wide shoulders down to a torso that looked about as solid as a slab of metal, up to a pair of arms whose biceps looked ready to pop out, and back down to a set of legs that looked more like small tree trunks than anything else.
It was such a radical change that neither the Luca nor their trainer really knew what to say about it; hell, all Tryn could do was look down at himself, staring at his new contours while wondering if he was actually looking at something real or if it was all some kind of hallucination… until he decided to do something about it and turned to face one of the punching bags hanging from the ceiling. Pulling back his right arm, Tryn punched it with full strength, not only managing to knock it off the chain it was hanging from, but also piercing through it entirely; his fist went clean through the bag and its stuffing, with the poor thing left skewered on his arm for a few moments before the Lucario pulled it out. With the bag’s insides spilling all over the floor, both Tryn and Spikes were left to stare at one another as they processed what was going on… and immediately realized the opportunity they had in their hands.
The two’s attention was immediately drawn towards the bag of Rare Candies that the Rena had brought with him when he crawled away; more specifically, its contents, the many dozens of treats that were still left to be consumed and turned into additional mass for the Lucario, who was suddenly left in a mindstate where he didn’t particularly care if he was cheating or not anymore. With each of his stomping steps shaking the ground, he thundered over to where his trainer was still on the ground, picking him up effortlessly with both hands and bringing him in for a very tight hug.
Spikes was left almost unable to breathe from how powerful it was, but couldn’t help but smile anyway; this was exactly what both of them wanted, and it was always nice to look down and realize that, despite being eye-level with the Luca, his own paws were a couple of feet off the ground. It made it clear that they were just starting, and that Tryn had plenty of size left to go before he was done; size that he clearly wanted right there and then, because as soon as he placed his trainer back on the ground, the next thing the Lucario did was shove his hand into the candy bag, grab a handful of them, and promptly shove them into his mouth before Spikes could do anything about it.
Not that the Renamon would’ve protested, but at least some advance warning would’ve given him a chance to meekly protest and pretend like he didn’t want it to happen. Unfortunately for the both of them, however, the sudden infusion of Rare Candies didn’t really do anything for Tryn; even after chowing down and swallowing an absurd quantity of them, the Lucario’s body didn’t really change all that much, aside from him receiving the expected power boost. It just so happened that, at the size that he was already at, such an upgrade was barely even visible at all, being little more than a couple of inches in height and muscle mass. Yes, he bulged out, but compared to his previous explosion in size, it felt immensely disappointing; this only served to confirm their suspicions that, if they wanted to make the candies have any effect at all, they’d have to pair them up with physical exercise… a realization that gave Tryn an idea.
Acting quickly, lest the effects of the treats wear off, he stomped over to the rack that held most of their weights, then promptly began lifting it; not the weights, but the rack itself, something that would’ve been absolutely impossible for him to do just minutes previously. Not just that, but he did so with such ease that even he found it surprising; he would’ve expected some amount of resistance, and yet his new body was apparently strong enough that he managed to lift the rack with the same amount of effort as he would a single one of its weights. That wasn’t the important part, though; that particular honour was reserved for the fact that this impromptu bit of extra exercise had the exact effect that Tryn hoped it would.
Just like he’d envisioned it in his mind’s eye, each time he pulled that thing upwards, his muscles bulged out harder. Not just in the way they usually did, or in any manner in which his new ones would, but outright gained mass whenever he fully flexed, mass which was then distributed across the rest of his body as his whole frame slowly expanded outwards with this extra infusion of raw muscle power. The Lucario didn’t even bother to check whether or not he was reaching too far; all he cared about was getting as much out of those candies as he could while his body was still “activated” in whatever way had caused him to transform into an immensely hunky, muscular version of himself, and while he didn’t manage to get as drastic of a result as with the first treat after the workout, what he got was still genuinely impressive.
The rack fell onto the ground, cracking the paving and bending the steel struts, with the weights falling off and rolling in several directions while the Lucario stretched out his limbs and straightened out his back. Judging from how high up his head was, he’d probably risen to about eight feet in height, if not a few inches more, and looking at his sides had become an exercise in self-arousal if he’d ever experienced one. To say that his arms were muscular would be in itself an understatement; if he flexed hard enough, a single one of those veins would be able to compete with his trainer’s arms for sheer thickness, and he couldn’t even see his feet anymore thanks to the enormous pecs in the way.
Not only that, but he couldn’t even move without bumping into the low ceiling above his head, nor could he take a step without causing some amount of damage to the floor; above all else though, he felt power, not just powerful but simply power, raw and unfiltered, as if he could open his mouth and fire a beam of energy powerful enough to punch through several houses… which, given what he was, he probably could. Best not though, neither he nor Spikes had the money for those kinds of repairs.
Spikes. The small Renamon who’d started it all, his trainer, the person responsible for having turned him into a hunk the kind that he’d always fantasized about. It truly was cheating that Tryn had achieved in such a short time what he’d been striving for a lifetime to get, but the Lucario couldn’t bring himself to care anymore; when he looked down at the Rena, all he saw was someone who deserved nothing more than all the affection he could give them. After all, if not for them, he wouldn’t be so tall that he barely fit in their gym, wouldn’t be so powerful that he could lift a whole weights rack like it was made of cardboard. And so, when he bent down to pick Spikes up to give them yet another tight bearhug, Tryn did so with the utmost devotion and love… and some care and concern for how much strength he was putting into that bind.
This had been, ultimately, the first day in a new workout schedule, and thus it was important to keep his trainer in tip-top shape for when they had to go through the second one. Because Tryn wasn’t done; hell, he wasn’t even started! If a single session had turned him into this monstrous thing, who knew what might happen when they kept going?
Only one way to find out. |
Shattered Shards: Perilous Plunder
Lights coming on, alarms blaring, the sounds of heavy boots upon the concrete as security officials rushed to the scene of the crime. It all mattered little to Aden, who slowly and quietly made his way through the thick foliage that covered most of the mansion grounds.
Rather nice of his 'patron' to provide him with such an easy way in and out. There had been no security cameras, no motion detectors, no guard dogs, not even broken glass or barbed wire atop the walls. It was like the mansion's owner wanted Aden to break into his home and abscond with several items of no small worth.
It would be more than enough to keep the thief in the lap of luxury for the next year; though he most certainly was not going to remain idle for twelve long months. Oh no. Life wasn't worth living unless there was a challenge involved, and the most grand challenges to Aden were his heists.
Utilizing a wonderful little broach that he had pilfered from the home of an absentminded herbalist, the plant life shifted and moved away. Not a bit of it touched the thief as he strolled leisurely through thick, thorny rose bushes, through prickly pine trees, through the tall grass and brambles that grew on the outskirts of the property.
The displaced plants moved right back to their previous positions, camouflaging his passage, assuring that no one would even think in the slightest that someone had come this way.
Not five minutes after his thefts had been discovered, Aden was over the outer wall and out into the communal park that was nestled in between the walled lands of dozens of prime 'patrons,' several of which had already 'sponsored' Aden's particular art.
He made his way to the center of the park, resting in a sheltered spot in a thick stand of birch trees that would be impossible to pierce without magical aid. He sat upon a rock and opened his bag of ill-gotten goods, eager to examine the items he had collected before accidentally triggering an unseen alarm.
As he went to open the bag Aden discovered that while the trees and plants moved to avoid him, it seemed his bag was a different story. Several long, bristly stalks clung to the fabric, having become stuck to the bag as he passed them.
Nothing to worry about, just a few easily removed foxtails. He chuckled and plucked them off, tossing them aside.
They shimmered and sparkled as they flew through the air, landing nearby, tiny motes of metallic light remaining in the air in a thick cloud.
Aden scowled at the cloud, the union of the two worlds had altered a few plants in magically heavy areas, granting them an occasional odd property, like glow in the dark pollen.
The thief sighed and went back to his bag, sneezing several times as the sweet-smelling pollen worked its way into his nose. He sneezed several more times, deep breaths followed by powerful expulsions of the very same breath.
Thankfully the sneezes shooed away the remainder of the pollen, leaving Aden's nose thankfully clear of irritants. But now he felt strange, feverish, too warm in the cool night. Warmth seemed to blossom within him, making his entire body flush, blood moving closer to the skin to allow for more effective dispersal of heat.
It wasn't any surprise that the increase in blood flow caused some other areas to stir. Aden moaned softly as he felt himself grow erect. He began to unbutton his shirt, it wasn't like anyone would see him out in the middle of the park, in the middle of the night, well hidden from any prying eyes.
He unzipped his pants and grinned as he began to stroke himself, casting his shirt aside. This wasn't particularly unusual, as he tended to focus on a heist to the point where he forsook pleasures of the flesh in order to concentrate.
This wasn't the first victory erection Aden had found himself with, but it was the most needful. In a few moments he was on all fours, working his way out of his pants, as he still felt too warm.
He kicked off his shoes, tugging off his socks, his pants and underwear down around his ankles, he felt much better as he stripped fully naked, leaning back against the smooth rock behind him, eyes closed in blissful pleasure.
He did not notice that his body looked a bit different than before, a narrowing in the midsection, a thinning of the build, a slight alteration of the angles in his face. Nor did he notice the slight swelling upon his chest, for he was far more concerned with the swelling in his loins.
With each stroke of his shaft his body seemed to feminize, his hair growing out, his hips swelling, hands and feet becoming more dainty, his skin growing softer. But none of this was noticed, not even as something slithered outward from the base of his spine.
The new limb tickled dreadfully, making Aden giggle, the tickling spreading to his rump as he found himself sitting on the new addition. He giggled some more and went to all fours, solving the problem of his sitting upon his new tail.
And quite a splendid tail it was, bristling with red-orange and white fur along its three foot length, bushy and thick, swaying gently as Aden thrust against his hand as he pawed off.
He no longer felt quite so warm, in fact, he felt somewhat cooled. He gasped softly as he felt his nipples harden, leaning downward, planting his shoulder against the ground so that he could both stroke and grope. He clenched his teeth as a pleasurable sensation shot through him as he caressed his pectoral area, rubbing his new A-cup breasts.
Oh how wonderful and soft they felt, how very perfect, if only they were bigger; if only there were more to caress, more to adore, and if only he had more limbs to caress them.
With his body suitably feminized, for now, the changes seemed content to alter him in a different way, sharpening his teeth, transforming his ears from whorled flaps to proud triangles atop his head.
They twitched softly, detecting the sounds in the darkness that Aden had never before had the acuity to hear. None of them bothered him, for his predatory instincts told him there was nothing out there to fear and that as he was not interested in hunting prey and thus the other sounds were beneath his notice as well.
The shemale vixen giggled as the tickle of growing fur spread over her ears, pausing for a moment in her self-love to flex her fingers, which felt rather funny and cramped for a few moments as her nails darkened. Growing thin upon one axis, they thickened upon two others, extending from her fingertips as small, black claws, a matching set upon her toes.
Having transformed a portion of her toes, the change lingered there for a few moments, enlarging a few of them, shrinking another and moving it further back on the foot. Realignment of the legs came next, bone, ligament, and muscle all warping, stretching, popping and creaking softly as Aden was gifted with a pair of digitigrade legs, far better suited for fleeing thieving endeavors than what she had before.
The tickling sensation returned once more, spreading rusty red and gleaming white wherever it went, making her entire body tingle with vulpine glee as her gorgeous fur coat grew in to its fullest.
Her caresses were quickly enhanced by the addition of black leather upon her finger pads and palms, the black leather soon joined by equally black fur, marking her complete alteration into a vixen.
But Aden craved more, and more she would receive; for not only had she stolen, but she had done so sloppily and arrogantly, her curse not merely one enchanted foxtail, but three.
Her tail tingled, the sensation spreading to her spine, not merely being robbed of species and gender, the magical essence of the foxtails would assure that she would never steal from their master again.
As Aden's tail split in two, her breasts began to grow, making the lusty vixen moan with delight, enjoying the sensations of the expanding flesh against her padded palm. Accompanying the alteration were similar changes to her hips, rump, and lips. Her fur color altered subtly upon her face, placing upon her eyelids a bright green.
The vixen felt a presence upon her shoulders, and upon opening her eyes saw that it was her own hair, now a lush green, slithering out from her head, making her look all the more like the stunning beauty that she had become.
Aden wanted a lover so badly, her cock ached, longing for the warmth and tightness that it would only find nestled within the loving anatomy of another creature. The vixen found herself entering a state of heat, longing for the touch of another.
She continued to stroke, continued to jerk, with each thrust she let out a soft, pleading bark, seeking to call a potential lover to her locale, to aid her in slaking this growing lust that filled her increasingly sexualized body.
To be transformed into a lusty harlot, that was the curse of the second foxtail. To have not merely the body, but also in part the mind of a wanton slut. Left to her own devices, Aden would likely be carousing bars and standing upon street corners within the week, eager to share her sleek, sexy, shapely form with anyone who would have her.
The second curse was not particularly a punishment, but as Aden had made her presence known, thieving was most certainly not the career for her in this new day and age. So one would be provided, one that still flaunted the law and required a specialized set of skills, one didn't want to make the new apples fall too far from the tree, after all.
A proper thief would've been left with species and gender warped a bit, but the rest of her faculties intact. An incompetent thief would find herself with the natural ability and instinctual talents to pursue a new career. But Aden had not only been a thief, not only been a clumsy thief, but he has also been an arrogant thief, and thus her alterations were not yet through.
The vixen quivered as her belly filled with strange warmth. From the innermost depths to the edge of each fiber of fur, the vixen felt change stirring within her once more. Rather than split, a third tail emerged from her spine in the manner of her first.
While generous before, her bust now boarder upon the unnatural, the realm of porn starlets and strippers. But added to this was an additional asset, one that made Aden moan with delight as she felt it.
Her cock began to swell, elongating and thickening, her sexual characteristics enhanced by her third curse. The first two would have left her manhood as it naturally was, but with the third nothing would remain of her original form.
Amber eyes clenched tightly shut as Aden's thick shaft darkened, swelling in places, retracting in others. She shivered as her sheath properly formed. The vixen ran her clawtips over her swollen knot, delighting in the intense sensation.
Her belly still churned, flesh and bone once more altering within her. Tears of joy filled her eyes as she felt a swelling upon her middle, a second pair of breasts blossoming into existence. It was exactly what she had wanted, more of her wonderful tits to love and...
She recalled the second part of her earlier musing and gasped softly as it too was gifted to her as a reward. Rolling onto her back, removing her hand from her cock, she was now easily equipped to pleasure herself.
Using her two new hands she sandwiched her lowermost breasts, trapping her generous cock between them, thrusting against her soft, creamy furred tits. She couldn't imagine how life could be any better.
She panted, her tongue lolling out of her slight muzzle. She arched her back, bucking into the air, pressing upwards with her legs, thrusting as deeply as she could into her breasts.
He pleasure peaked, a dam burst inside of her, allowing thick rivulets of seed to pour from her member, damping the fur of her belly and breasts with its hot, sticky warmth.
But that was not all. Upon her second ejaculation, something else seemed to give way inside of her, another river breaking free within her altered body, sending liquid warmth erupting from her body in a different fashion.
Her new femsex climaxed explosively, dousing her thighs and tails with the pleasantly scented fragrance of vixen climax.
Aden rolled onto her side, coaxing a few more jets of seed from her cock, letting them ooze onto the ground, rather than onto her already sodden fur. Already she would need a bath, and there was no need to make herself even dirtier.
Her lust partially sated, Aden stood and gathered up her discarded clothes, stuffing them into the bag of recovered loot. She smiled as she walked through the dense brush, the plants parting eagerly before her.
Her mistress would be so thrilled with her, proud of her newest vixen who went out all on her own and chased down the horrible thief that had made off with a few of her showpieces.
While pretty and valuable, Mistress did not leave her true treasures out in plain sight for any thief to snatch. Aden knew that, of course. Everything in the mansion's main rooms was for show and for decoration, and for sneak thieves to snatch, thinking themselves newly rich and clever.
Aden wondered what surprises thieves would discover upon trying to flee from her owner's property. She desperately wished to know what interesting fates awaited those who would dare steal from the wonderful woman that gave her and other sorts of gorgeous, sexual creatures a home.
A soft sound like wind chimes drew Aden's attention and she turned her head, seeing a few golden grains of pollen settling upon her glowing, silvery seed. She grinned as she saw small, green shoots sprout up from the soil.
She watched the plants grow and blossom, tall green grasses mixed in with tall plants with cascades of beautiful flowers. Foxtails and foxgloves. They always marked the places where a nature-kissed kitsune like herself found enjoyment. Enjoyment that would, on occasion, be gifted to a passerby when the plants were ready to reproduce.
Aden moaned softly, rubbing her belly with her two lower hands. As soon as she returned home, she too would be ready and eager to reproduce as well. With anyone she could get her four hands on.
Aden's three tails swayed happily behind her as the kitsune wondered which of her mistress's many pets she'd snuggle up with first. |
Dragoness Becoming
Traz awakened from his blissful dreams feeling hot and sticky. Rather than the phantom chill of his nightmares, there had been a sweet, pleasant warmth. The heat of warm, smooth scales pressed against his small, comparatively soft body. He felt so horny, his erection throbbed, the sensation going deeper than it had ever before. It felt like his entire pelvic region ached with need.
The elf's mind went over the recent events and he gasped with horror. They had drugged him and had him fuck a beast! "What the hell did they do to me?" he growled, and then stopped. His voice was higher pitched, more feminine than masculine.
His gaze immediately dropped downward. His general thinning out and general offness of form the previous day had bloomed into full on female features. The shape of his arms, legs, hands, feet, and more than likely his face were all quite feminine. The puffiness of the flesh around his nipples was far worse, the beginnings of breasts. They were making him a woman!
A hand went between his legs, encountering a warm, wet stickiness on the skin. His erect cock felt the same, but the balls and sack beneath it had shrunk and were in the process of fully retracting into his body.
The pale pink-purple shade of his skin had darkened as well, now a shade of lilac. His nails had been completely grown over with skin. They had become small, blunt claws. The elf ran his tongue around in his mouth and winced at the result. His tongue felt longer and thinner, his teeth more pointed.
His feminine body ached and throbbed, muscles feeling sore from transformation, his flesh demanding that he be violated again. He had never suspected that the Devotees had done anything like this. Being changed into a dragonkin was bad enough, but a female dragonkin? He shuddered and curled into a ball in the straw. What was the point of it? Why would they change him like this? What was the point in making a woman of a man?
Traz flinched as the door to his cell opened, and he quickly backed into a corner, looking up at the jailor with fear and horror. The dragonkin carried a collar and leash in his claws. Traz looked from the items to the dragonkin's scaled face.
"It's time for exercise." The dragon rumbled; his voice deep. The sound seemed to carry right to the elf's groin and he moaned softly. His altered body's arousal heightened, it wanted this male, and wanted him badly. Tears ran down his face as he fought the instinct to go forward and present himself to the dragonkin.
"Why are you doing this to me? Making me... a girl..." Traz whimpered.
His captor smiled and set down the leash, picking up the transforming elf in his arms and hugging him gently. Traz felt himself relaxing and couldn't help but wrap his arms around the creature's neck, returning the gesture. He even began to purr as the huge beastman began to rub his back.
"You are being reborn, little elf." The dragonkin said softly, "And all Dessarra's children are given the opportunity to show if their dragon selves are males, females, or beyond gender entirely. Your spirit has decided that, for the moment, it wishes to be female. Perhaps it will decide differently in the end. But, for now, it seems you shall be a dragoness."
Traz lowered his head, "O-okay..." he said with soft acceptance. The dragonkin loosened the hug and the elf pulled back, looking into the creature's eyes. He licked his lips and leaned forward, the creature's muzzle met Traz' lips, and Traz' knee met the dragon's groing.
The guard exhaled explosively, groaning in agony, dropping to the floor, clutching himself. The fool had left the cell door open, which Traz made for.
He passed several cells, some empty, some not. All sorts of humanoids looked out at him as he ran passed. Some cheered him on, others yelled for guards and pointed, others shrunk into a corner at the sight of movement.
The elf had no idea where to go, but he knew that the guard barracks was in the opposite direction. The exercise room was just beyond it. Traz hoped that was where all the guards were.
He made it to the stairway and quickly headed downwards, towards the base of the tower. Traz leaped down the stairs a flight at a time, paying no attention to the danger, wanting to get as far away from his cell as quickly as possible.
He hoped he could steal some clothing, as warm as it was inside the tower, and his comfort with it, likely he was even more sensitive to the harsh chill of the land outside. His coloration was not that of any of the cold-loving dragons Traz knew of, though he didn't know anything about purple or pink dragons. He'd never heard of such a creature.
The sound of several sets of clawed feet running on stone echoed through the stairwell. Not caring where it lead, Traz pushed through a doorway and out onto another floor. The air was cooler here than on his floor and in the stairwell, it was also quite humid. The air was wet and clung to his skin.
The air smelled of life, white leafed plants grew in the wide open space. It was then that Traz realized he'd gone the wrong way. He wasn't in the tower, he was under it. This wasn't a room, this was a cavern. The sound of flowing water could be heard, and Traz headed towards it.
He didn't see anyone, or anything, around. He presumed that this was some sort of underground garden, to grow fruits and vegetables, or just for the pleasure of walking through in a climate far removed from such a place.
Water spilled down a waterfall nearby into a small pond, which held the water until it flowed outward in a small channel that wound through the room. Traz ducked into the berry bushes alongside the pond, peering out at the doorway from between the leaves.
His racing heart began to calm as the minutes passed, no one entered the garden cavern looking for him. The elf sat back in the bushes and sighed softly, trying to think of how he could possibly make his escape.
Traz wondered what his punishment would be if he were recaptured; or if he would even be punished. That would be just like them, giving him a bit of a scolding and a disappointing look and go on like nothing happened. Yeah, that sounded like what the Devotees of Dessarra would do.
There were far more of them than anyone could possibly suspect. The frozen ground was not the sort that one would typically go digging in. All those who knew of them knew only of the tower, not the caverns that spread out beneath it.
Traz wondered how deep the tunnels went, and how vast they wound through the landscape. He had heard of the Under Realms, entire nations living deep between the stone and soil.
Tear trickled down the elf's cheeks. He had no idea how far down he was, he had no idea where he would emerge on the surface, and it would be incredibly risky to sneak around and steal the clothes and rations he needed for his escape.
He snuffled softly, in all his time here he had never seen an creature that lacked scales and a tail roaming the hallways he had been lead through. He'd stick out like a sore thumb.
And on the subject of sore, the little running he had done made his muscles ache more than his slow transformation already did. He was still horny as hell to boot. Even more so being so close to the dragonkin guard had turned him on so much. Traz bit his lip and tried not to think about it.
He had no idea how long he' had been asleep, nor did he have any idea how long how the concoction they'd put in his soup would last. His anus clenched and unclenched, and a stick wetness dribble from it. It was disgusting. Like precum.
The thought of it made Traz sick to his stomach. Rather than making him a humanoid female, they were transforming him into a reptile with a cloaca, the excretory and reproductive systems utilizing the same opening. It was disgusting and it felt so terribly wrong.
Traz realized that he was making quite a puddle beneath him, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to have anything to do with the Devotees' plans. He wasn't going to pleasure himself unless they forced him; no matter how uncomfortable the throbbing of his elven and reptilian sexes got.
"Are you lost, little female?" hissed a voice from behind Traz.
The elf spun and looked up to see the black, serpentine head of a true dragon peering down over the bushes at him. The beast was perhaps the size of a horse, but larger and longer. It was as much serpent as it was dragon, thin in the middle with a long tail, rather than the broad chest most true dragons had.
"I'm not a female!" he said in protest, cursing his twisted form. The very sight of the creature made his heat-stricken desires almost irresistible.
The creature smiles, showed over large, white fangs, "Ah, my mistake; I did not see that you had not yet completed your rebirth. You smell like a female in heat, so I supposed that such is what you were. Escaped did you?"
Traz lowered his head, no sense in denying it. "Yes."
"Good." The dragon said with a chuckle, "It keeps the guards on their toes. Complacent bastards. Now, come out of there and let me take a good look at you."
The dragon's voice was low and sweet sounding, a joy on the ears, hypnotic. Traz couldn't help but obey him, stepping out of the berry bushes to stand before him, a blush spreading across his features as he did so, standing naked in front of the mighty dragon.
The creature slowly circled the elf, looking him over. "You have been mated once as a female, have you not?" he purred, the tip of his tail sliding over the back of Traz' neck, causing him to shiver.
He nodded, blush deepening, "Yes, just the once." He said softly, "C-can you help me get out of here?"
The dragon shrugged, "Perhaps, if it is the will of the goddess. But likely not. Many have asked me for aid in escaping, but to date I have not aided a single one, I am sorry to say. Well, I'm not sorry, but the look on your face saddens me. I do not like to see a heat stricken female sorrowful while she is in a prime position for breeding."
"I'm not a female!" Traz growled, but the words lost their effect as he moaned when the beast licked his rump.
"It matters not, little elf, eventually you will be. And right now I will use you as one. Your scent is delicious and stirs even a dragon such as myself to arousal." The serpentine dragon purred, nuzzling Traz's neck.
His muscles seemed to have locked, Traz couldn't move himself at all, he could only stand their and let the dragon caress him.
"It is fortunate for you that you have escaped before your second mating. For such is perhaps the most important even of your rebirth. You see, the second determines your final shape. The third determines your role, and the fourth seals your fate forever. How lucky you are to have the honor of becoming one of my own race." He rumbled, "Down on all fours, please."
The elf's body reacted without consulting his mind and he dropped to his knees and leaned forward onto his hands, legs spread, "Please, please don't!" he begged, looking back at the dragon, eyes wet with tears.
"You will be made a dragon, little elf, one way or the other. Look at my form, is it not beautiful? Would you rather be sure of what sort of dragonkin you will become, rather than letting the Devotees chose for you?" he purred, positioning himself over her. Traz hated himself for the soft moan he let out as the beast's scales rubbed against his back. He hated himself even more as he pressed up against them.
His stupid body, his stupid fucking body; Traz felt himself nodding, though he wasn't sure if his sex-crazed dragon-slut flesh was agreeing with the fact that the dragon was beautiful or that he wanted to chose to be this sort of dragon. He didn't want to be any sort of dragon. He wanted to get free, to return to his old life. To raise an army and hunt these blasted Devotees of Dessarra to the ends of the underworld and back if he had to.
Tears of pleasure mixed with tears of pain as the dragon entered him. Much different from the small drake; the black scaled beast was far larger, and it hurt to be spread so side. The creature's cock was longer and tipped with a spade-shaped head. Traz managed to regain control over his body for a moment, and tried to pull away, only to discover why it was shaped as it was.
Much like an arrow, the wideness at the base made it difficult to pull out. While the tip pushed him open slowly, Traz couldn't see a way to pull away from the dragon's prick without hurting himself. He slumped down, head against the ground, defeated.
-o-
The pleasure of the act hurt Traz far more than any sort of physical torture would. But the worst was the dragon's voice. The honey-sweet, low, melodic tone that spoke right to his draconic flesh, ignoring Traz' mind and will. The transformed elf found himself slowly walking up the stairs, head lowered in shame and submission.
She felt sick, the way her body craved draconic seed, the hunger she had felt when the dragon had climaxed in her, the way she had instinctively milked him for every last drop, the warmth that had begun to spread from her belly the moment the beast had withdrawn from her.
Tears trickled down Traz' cheeks, he had to concentrate hard to keep thinking of himself as a male. He felt so tired and achy. He needed to lie down. The elf pushed the door open that lead to her cell block.
Standing guard at the corner was the soldier she had injured. She approached him slowly and hugged him. She couldn't help it; the instinct driven dragon-slut inside of her was taking over. She was so sleepy; it was so very hard to think.
"Master, can you put me back in my cell? I'm so very tired." Traz said softly, closing her eyes as the dragonkin gently picked her up.
"Sleep well, my little run away," the dragonkin purred, "For when you awaken, you shall have the honor of discovering your role amongst your new people."
Traz purred softly as he kissed her forehead.
"You were a naughty girl, but I knew you wouldn't escape. There's nowhere for one undergoing rebirth to run without his or her scent drawing lustful dragons. And one other thing, my pet."
"Mmm?" the elf mumbled.
"Dragons' testicles are internal. I just thought you'd like to know." He said with a huge grin as Traz fell into the blessed grip of unconciousness. |
Neither Spikes nor Tim were convinced that the plan was going to work, but it was either that or do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day, so they both powered through a not-insignificant amount of trepidation and apprehension, quite odd for two people that had told themselves nothing would happen, and turned the modified Digivice back on. Amazingly, it didn’t immediately catch on fire, a surefire sign that, if nothing else, it was at least sturdier than the previous attempts. It didn’t actually turn on at all, but considering what had been happening until then, this was a genuine improvement.
“No, no, I got this,” the lynx mumbled before the Rena could say anything, “just gotta… gimme a second…”
Fiddling with the device for about five minutes, the feline eventually gave up completely. As much as he tried, there was simply nothing there for him to interact with, his attempts at modifying the actual hardware apparently having bricked the whole thing. His irritation reached a peak when he did manage to get the screen to flicker, only for it to bluescreen almost immediately afterwards; was it any surprise, then, that the cat immediately threw the thing at the ground?
Perhaps not. What was surprising was how such a destructive act, rather than ending in a pile of disjointed wiring and circuit boards, instead produced an immediate effect on Spikes, whose body flickered in and out of existence for a few brief moments before settling back in, the Renamon looking at himself with an alarmed look on his face. The Digivice, despite having looked to be entirely broken, turned on without any sort of input, the words “DATA DOWNLOAD INITIATED” displayed on the tiny monitor. Almost immediately after this took place, Spikes doubled over and clutched at his stomach, groaning loudly enough for Tim to flinch and take a few steps back; did they just do something wrong? Had they stepped over an invisible line? Their roommate-cum-occasional lover certainly seemed like they were going through some kind of… discomfort, to say the least, but this illusion was only maintained for as long as it took for him to look at his own arms.
Being too busy holding a stomach that seemed intent on making his life miserable, Spikes barely even noticed how his body had begun to change all around him. He failed to realize how heavy he suddenly felt, or how much his arms appeared to take a lot more effort to move around. It wasn’t until he opened his eyes again and looked down that the Renamon understood why: what used to have been a couple of limp noodles were now suddenly rigid, rippling logs worthy of a career bodybuilder! It took him some time before the reality of it set in, at which point the growth spurt had already begun to spread to the rest of his body: first his shoulders, bulking up in order to let him even hold his arms there to begin with, heading down his torso and up his neck, until he felt his upper body inflate like some kind of balloon… one that felt significantly weightier than air.
Tim, meanwhile, got to experience the full breadth of the transformation from his seat on the ground, having tripped over themselves before they could find anywhere else to sit. From down there, they had a front-row seat to the show, to Spikes slowly rising to his feet and straightening out his back, exposing his bulging pecs, his solidifying abs, his rippled physique and thickening legs. Every inch of that Renamon seemed to glisten with either sweat or something else, muscles building on muscles, height multiplying onto itself until he reached seven feet. Poor thing was so taken aback by what he was going through that he had to lean onto a table for support, only for it to shatter completely and have him collapse onto the floor, coughing and spluttering as his lungs failed to provide enough air for him. The lynx reacted the only way they could: rushing to the Digivice to try and turn it off.
Amazingly, it did just that, the bulking up stopping right afterwards. Spikes was still the same size, still gasping for breath, but after being given a few more minutes to rest and recuperate, he seemed to find some semblance of balance within himself. He sat back up, craning his neck backwards in an attempt to give his nose some room, what with his head now being significantly tinier compared to everything else on him. He’d gone from scrawny to something beyond strong, his whole body having become a sculpture of manhood unlike anything Tim or Spikes themselves had ever seen before. Usually, muscle-leaning hypers had a tendency to become nearly-grotesque masses of sinew and bulbous curvature, whereas the only word that came to the lynx’s mind to describe their roomie was… tight. Years and years of dedicated, daily bodybuilding had been compressed into just a few seconds, leaving the Rena with the kind of body that made his partner want to splay themselves all over it and just trace its contours until they grew tired of it, assuming such a thing would ever happen. From the Renamon’s broad, rock-hard pecs to his trunk-like legs and the bulging biceps on each arm, to say nothing of how his neck was starting to bulk up around his head, Spikes had become something akin to irresistible… and neither of them wanted to let such an opportunity go to waste.
Tim in particular was shaking all over when they grabbed the Digivice again, mostly thanks to their mind insisting they should be throwing themselves at that hunk of a Rena before anything happened to him. Spikes, meanwhile, was glad to just grope himself to make sure things were, in fact, completely real, leading to quite the embarrassing moment when the two’s eyes met and they had to consider a few… things. A couple of hours and a bed later later, they were finally in the right headspace to discuss things more openly; namely, what to do with the device now that it was finally working.
Tim suggested slowing down the rate of data download so that Spikes’ growth spurt could be made continuous, if glacial in pace; the Rena, for his part, much preferred the idea of using a compressor field to hide his true size. That way, he could grow as big as he wanted so long as he could keep most of that size hidden away in a dimensional pocket space. The lynx wasn’t all that enthused about the idea of letting their partner run wild with that sort of growth… at least until Spikes brought both hands to their back and all-but rubbed the lynx’s face all over one of his pecs. The resulting mess of a feline was too far gone in their own infinite ocean of lust and hyperactive libido to really do much of anything but moan and beg for more, which the Rena took as tacit acceptance of their compressor idea. The next day, the lynx was already hard at work messing with the electronics again; according to them, it’d be far better to build the pocket space controller into the Digivice itself, rather than rely on third-party items, thus giving them a much finer control over what kind of sizes Spikes could grow to and display to the world.
Besides, it also offered a way to deliberately mess with the numbers that made him up via retroactive continuity… whatever that meant.
Admittedly, it was a genuine disappointment to see the Renamon’s body suddenly go back to what it used to be, with Spikes himself expressing no end of sadness for his gloriously bulky form being made to vanish into some pocket dimension. They both knew it was there, but it was hardly the same; without the ability to run their fingers through a set of pecs that could stop bullets or a six-pack that could grate cheese, it just… wasn’t worth it. Thankfully, however, they wouldn’t have to wait for a long time before the effects began to manifest themselves again; Spikes was still growing after all, and even if most of his true size was being hidden away by the compressor field, it wouldn’t be a week before both roommates began to notice his body was beginning to take on familiar contours.
First came the arms, once more going from noodly to ripped, Spikes waking up every day to find that more muscle mass had developed along both of them and, later on, his legs. He’d use this as an opportunity to show off, especially when they were cleaning around the house, eventually getting to the point where he’d just pick up the couch and lift it over his head just to prove that he could, in the process further developing his already burgeoning musculature. The Rena’s torso and back came right afterwards, solidifying and expanding as the solid center from which the rest of his body could exude raw power, his rock-hard pecs returning in full strength as his abs slowly came back into delectable definition. Barely a month had gone by and Spikes was already at the exact same size as he had been during the initial growth spurt; with the underlying knowledge that his true dimensions were significantly larger, and what they were both seeing was just a taste of what was to come.
Moving around the house became progressively harder as the days went by, enough that doors and doorframes became obstacles more than anything else; after a certain point, the Renamon just couldn’t use them properly, having to squeeze his body through sideways, one limb at a time and with extreme care, lest he accidentally rip the whole damn thing off the wall it was built into. Even the latter wasn’t safe; all it took was him tripping and outstretching his hand for a brand new hole to adorn the house’s frame, sometimes packing enough kinetic energy to have his arm sink into the room on the other side! Their home was growing more and more inadequate by the hour, pockmarked with plenty of evidence that the Rena was simply too big to fit and exist within it… and yet neither of them did anything about that. Why would they, when it was a constant reminder of how great the experience was?
By the end of the second month, Tim had already given up even trying to do anything else, their life turned into little more than an endless series of ministrations paid unto their Rena hubby, their days spent worshipping his form in whatever way the lynx could think up. Be it through oil massages, rubbing, fur-combing, anything really if it meant they could get their hands on him. Spikes, in the meantime, was happy to encourage them to keep going, knowing that, at some point, something drastic was going to happen and the two would have to go through a paradigm shift; what that would be was still a mystery, but what he knew was that it was going to be big, as everything always was with the two of them. In the meantime, he delighted himself in slowly and entirely accidentally destroying their abode; he wasn’t trying to wreck the upholstery or punch holes into the walls, but he couldn’t avoid doing so either. His body was effectively out of his control when it came to pulling his punches, and what would’ve been a minor accident for anyone else inevitably turned into yet another repair bill they would never pay. This wasn’t enough though; after a while, the Rena began to actively seek out ways to demonstrate how oversized he was, how the world around him could no longer contain him. Maybe he deliberately tripped over that thing on the ground, maybe he intentionally put more strength than he should when grabbing a drawer, who knew? Perhaps the worst instance of this behaviour was when he decided to sit down on the couch to watch TV; both of them knew that he was far too heavy to do that, and yet he did it anyway. The result: a sofa broken down the middle, stuffing and springs fully exposed, and a sheepish-looking Rena pretending to be sorry about it while his lynx lover ignored the whole thing and kept on massaging his chest.
Things carried on like that for what felt like weeks. Days blended into one another until they stopped making any chronological sense whatsoever, their snuggle sessions lasting for so long that they had the opportunity to ignore how hungry they were feeling before inevitably gorging themselves on whatever was at hand. The house was progressively more wrecked by their careless approach to the Rena’s growth, their environs turned into an increasingly pulverized pile of sawdust and bits of cotton. Soon, the whole house was gone, reduced to rubble, with the two of them locked in an embrace that seemed to never end… at least until Spikes had an idea. It was a terrible one, one that could very likely end in the two of them going somewhere they couldn’t come back from, but it was an idea nonetheless.
Tim’s body was… special. Unique. Though the lynx hadn’t tapped into those powers in a while, courtesy of having their own toy to play with, they too were malleable by nature, and far more capable of changing their shape at will without abusing data downloading programs. What was more, as the two had already felt several times before, their bodily fluids had a way of “sharing the love,” per se, enough that even before bulking up via Digivice, the Rena had already felt his body turning into a thing of literally massive beauty. Therefore, it was only natural that he would gently request his lover do the same thing all over again, but in a way that would better fit his new reality. It began with a few suggestions here and there, whispered in a way that wouldn’t alarm the lynx too much, before they escalated into outright out-loud musing and, eventually, a request. It was designed to keep the feline from panicking; even in their near-insensate state, they knew that such a thing would be dangerous at best, downright idiotically suicidal at worst. But after such a long exposure to the Renamon’s growing form, after their mind’s defenses were battered so hard, they couldn’t resist it anymore.
The last day their house existed, Tim went off to buy a blender and a few more ingredients, before locking themselves in the kitchen. When they emerged from it, the cup they were carrying in their hands was filled with a thick, white-ish liquid, thick as all could be and smelling vaguely of vanilla somehow. They insisted that it was a “protein shake”, and the Rena firmly believed them; there was no doubt there was a lot of protein in there, judging by its syrupy consistency, and it was certainly a shake.
Better to down it all and see what happened. |
It was important to prepare before fighting a wizard, lest one end up as a small puddle of vaguely red-coloured soup smeared against a wall… or worse. As much as Anthony was convinced that he had learned enough to tackle this task, he wanted to stack the odds as much in his favour as he possibly could, especially since he was going up against someone who could very much just throw curses at him as easily as they could breathe. Seeing as there was no time limit imposed on his little fetch quest, the ballooned kobold figured he could spend some time making sure that the old coot’s routine hadn’t changed, all while training further and perusing whatever scrolls he had on him for protection against magic.
He was happy to find out that the wizard was just as predictable then as they had been before, even down to the bi-weekly visits to the nearby town and the odd nightly rituals (which he himself now understood better after the ridiculous list of ingredients he went through); from there, it was easy enough to create a plan of action to attack his prey at their most vulnerable moment: when they were fiddling with their keys after returning from their shopping trip.
It was a risky plan, but Anthony wasn’t about to lie down and wait for fate to reward him because of his moral high ground when he could very much just snatch his just dues from the grasp of the very man who took them away from him… even if that only happened because he tried to rob them in the first place, but who was really keeping track? What mattered was that he spent months on a potentially suicidal journey to grab ingredients that were entirely unnecessary for a potion that didn’t need them at the behest of someone he really didn’t care for, purely because he felt it was the “right” thing to do; well, the ‘bold no longer cared about what was “right” or “wrong” with that wizard, because clearly the potion he himself had tried stealing was so trivial to produce that even keeping it behind a locked glass cabinet was too much security! Honestly, having been sent on a mission designed to kill him felt like a slight bit of an overreaction, and a more than adequate excuse for him to bring some balance into the world by showing that wizened old man just who he had messed with.
The kobold waited patiently, waking up early on the day of the confrontation, his eyes glued to the tower standing in the middle of the woods. Soon, the door would open to reveal the man that had left him as a blimped-out version of himself, right before they turned on the spot and teleported to the nearby town in order to purchase supplies; as soon as that happened, Anthony fastened his gear to his body, made sure to readjust his wings so they’d keep on serving as improvised armor, and promptly waddled over as closely as possible to the tower’s base. There, a large patch of shrubs served as the perfect camouflage for his large, spherical self, big enough that he could hide behind them while still getting a view through the foliage at the front door; the wizard always teleported straight onto the threshold, taking anything from ten to thirty seconds to find the correct key from among the many he kept on a chain attached to his belt, plenty of time for the kobold to spring into action and challenge the man to a duel!
So he waited again, and waited some more, sweating with anticipation and nervousness as he reviewed his battle plan in his head again and again, knowing for a fact that he’d have to abandon it anyway the moment it made first contact with reality. Still, he offered a short prayer to his draconic gods and kept his eyes firmly on the door, almost subconsciously anticipating the moment that the wizard would appear from thin air with a loud crack; he had seen it so many times before that he practically flinched before it happened, almost like an internal timer had gone off, with Anthony using the momentum to propel himself forward and straight at his target, who had just then realized someone was “running” (for lack of a better word) directly at them while brandishing a sword. It took the old coot a couple of seconds to remember who the kobold even was, at which point they sighed, snapped their fingers, and Anthony’s plan fell apart.
In a single moment, all the protections that had kept his wings from ever popping vanished, lifted as easily as could be from someone who had completely forgotten that removing a beneficial enchantment was not the same as placing a malicious one, and thus had remained blissfully ignorant of the fact that the wizard still held that bit of leverage over him. His fluffy, inflated appendages sprang back into their old shape, open wide behind him and offering plenty of air resistance as Anthony continued to sprint towards the wizard and the base of their lair. He wasn’t even thinking anymore, no longer caring that his one protection had been removed with a literal snap of the fingers; all he could think of was getting that sword of his somewhere inside the wizard’s body, or at least close enough that they’d have to concede defeat and finally give him what he wanted… even if he didn’t really know what that was.
And yet, the closer Anthony got to his quarry, the more easily he could see the wide, predatory grin that adorned their lips, letting the kobold know just what was in store for him if he dared to make a wrong move. Suddenly, all the counter-magical preparations he had on him didn’t feel all that effective; the balloon ‘bold could practically sense the malice and hatred seeping from the wizened old man staring him down, the air crackling with electricity as they raised a hand to strike him down just as easily as they would swat a fly… but Anthony was ready for it.
He’d spent months travelling the lands and fighting his way through foes much more powerful than that man while running on pure annoyance alone, so surely a simple practitioner of the magical arts should be no match for him, especially now that righteous indignation was his chosen fuel and he had actual experience to draw from; indeed, his body reacted almost entirely by itself when he saw the lightning bolt fly towards him, anchoring its claws on the ground before pushing itself off to the side, using its own buoyancy to fly through the air and land right-side up with enough velocity left to be transferred to forward momentum once again! It was an impressive bit of acrobatics, especially since Anthony himself hadn’t done it on purpose, and an opportunity to finally strike at the man that had cursed him to remain as a blimped-out version of himself!
But the wizard was quick, and reacted just as easily to the dodge as the ‘bold himself did to the first attack, preparing a second lightning strike that just barely missed Anthony’s main body… and promptly exploded one of his wings instead. The kobold had assumed that such a thing would’ve hurt, would’ve left him incapacitated and unable to think properly, but it barely even registered, presumably because that thing was mostly air rather than anything else; still, it was his wing… it was his wing. It had ceased to be.
And he was going to do something about it.
There was something more than grief welling up inside of him, even if despair was the dominant emotion he was feeling at that exact moment in time. It was something more powerful, something that burned brightly enough that it felt like an actual fire raging within him, something that, contrary to the loss making him want to fall over and weep, instead urged him to keep going, to carry on with his charge and plunge his blade deep into the chest of the man responsible for stripping him of his wing. It was anger, rage, righteous rage at that, a primal fuel that could only come from one who’d been wronged and scorned by another who paid no heed to what they thought, and the same kind that refused to be doused even if plunged into the deepest of oceans. It was the light at the end of the tunnel, even if Anthony knew that it was probably some kind of steam vehicle ready to run him over in this metaphor, because he no longer cared; if it meant he could take revenge on the wizard, he would gladly sacrifice his other wing to do so.
And this… gave him an idea. In the split-second during which he experienced all of this, the kobold realized that if there was anything that could give him an advantage, it was his now-lopsided nature. The wing that burst had done so in a large shower of feathers and fluff, projected outwards by the force of the air pressurized within it, which could only mean that if the other wing went the same way, then he could weaponize this minor explosion and use it to his own advantage. Acting more on instinct than anything else, he reacted to the wizard raising his hand again by slamming one of his feet on the ground, jumping and sending himself into a spiralling dive towards the sorcerer; his single remaining wing rotated rapidly along with him, and with some minor adjustments mid-flight, Anthony managed to time it so that the lightning bolt fired in his direction hit nothing but feather.
With a horrifyingly loud pop, the second wing on his back was destroyed; this time, however, rather than all of its constituent fluff flying harmlessly away from the two combatants, Anthony’s forward momentum and expert positioning ensured that the cloud of feather scraps was projected directly towards the wizard himself, whose reaction times were so terrible that they were already blinded by the time they raised their hands to cover their eyes. Sputtering and tripping over themselves as they tried to spit out bits of the destroyed wing from their mouth, the wizard was stunned and out of it for just long enough that their kobold nemesis managed to recover from his self-imposed tailspin and find his footing again, launching himself through the air towards the one who had robbed him of his greatest accomplishments yet. And while his body might very well be mostly air even in its diminished state, Anthony still crashed into the sorcerer with enough strength to punt him onto the ground, immobilizing them under his girth and giving the ‘bold enough time to draw his blade and point it straight at the old man’s throat.
It was all over in just a handful of seconds, barely ten having passed between the first wing being popped and the man responsible being flat on the ground with a sharp piece of metal about to cut open an unfortunately wide smile on their neck. Both them and Anthony were breathing deeply, trying to anticipate one another’s next move, with the latter in particular feeling the strain of having to keep himself in an extremely uncomfortable pose just to keep his sword tip close enough to the wizard for it to be a genuine threat; he was still a big balloon-shaped ‘bold, and had to anchor himself onto the ground to keep the man beneath him from kicking him away. It was a game of chicken that Anthony couldn’t possibly win, but he could try and bluff his way through it anyway… and much to his surprise, the wizard he had “defeated” in single combat sighed, rolled his eyes, and then finally opened his mouth to speak.
“What do you want?” they queried, sounding more bored than truly afraid.
“Uuuh…” Anthony mumbled in reply, slightly surprised by the suddenness of it all, “M-Myself, back to normal! No air, no nothing… a-a-and a proper pair of wings, ones that can actually make me fly!”
The sorcerer raised a single eyebrow at the request, but didn’t raise any objections. Snapping his fingers with a much louder noise than should be possible, he simply turned Anthony… back to normal. The kobold had been expecting a long, drawn-out draining where he’d have to exhale all the excess air inside of him, but instead he was given the most anticlimactic transformation possible; then again, given who he was dealing with, perhaps it was for the best that the wizard didn’t get inventive with their solutions, lest Anthony end up having to go on a second fetch quest. His body being returned to normal did help him keep his blade in place a lot easier though, even if he was reasonably certain he didn’t actually pose any threat at all to someone who could wield magic so easily; nonetheless, he kept his tiny sword pointed straight at the old man’s throat until they snapped their fingers once again, finally giving the kobold exactly what he wanted.
It was just like when he first stole the option and guzzled it down all that time ago, just as instant and immediate and frankly mundane as his first transformation had been, maybe even more. But that hardly mattered, because he had wings again! There, on his back, flapping about a bit uncontrollably until his brain rewired itself to handle them, two fluffy, feather-covered appendages jutting out from his shoulder blades exactly where they should be, and just as mobile as any bird’s; no extra air, no inflation, no being turned into a barely-mobile balloon ‘bold, just a pair of wings exactly like he’d always imagined them to look and feel like!
For a moment, he forgot just who he was handling and stepped aside away from the wizard, letting them get back on their feet to dust their robes off, all while the ‘bold hopped from place to place while trying to take off from the ground, even if for just a couple of seconds. It was a dream come true, and given the lack of any obvious side-effects, it seemed as if his quarry had decided to keep to their word and not try to needlessly prolong their feud, no doubt because they learned a valuable lesson about how far Anthony was willing to go, and how skilled and powerful he had become in his travels… doubtlessly.
In reality, the sorcerer was just happy to get rid of a nuisance, hence why they turned around and headed straight into their tower, wanting to brew some tea and forget that this whole nasty business ever happened, all while Anthony was still busy frolicking about to celebrate his brand new pair of wings. It was the best ending he could’ve asked for, honestly: no one got hurt, everyone got what they wanted in the end, and he could finally take off and fly towards the rising sun, ready to start a brand new life putting his adventuring skills to good use.
After all, he had wings now. The world was his oyster! |
On the Other Hoof Lily groaned as her mother continued to rant.
“I can’t believe you did this to yourself! How could you?” Her mother’s face was red and her voice was starting to get husky with the strain.
Lily just sighed. “Mom, I don’t need a lecture. This was my decision, and I don’t need you bent out of shape over it!”
“But your beautiful feet?” came her mother’s wail of desperation. “How will you…?”
Lily cut her mother off. “They’re my feet, I wanted this. I don’t know why you’re complaining, it’s not like you’re going to live with me anymore. I’m twenty-seven, not seventeen.” Lily wagged her finger at her mother. A twinge of pain reminding her that the pain medications were wearing off.
“No guy is going to want you. You’ve made yourself a freak.” Her mother retorted, the snide remark biting down in a way no other person would have succeeded in doing. After it was her mother.
“I’m sure I will be just fine in the love department, regardless of my feet.” Lily rolled her eyes. She was happy with the choice, any guy who really wanted her would be too. Besides, it wasn’t like there was a shortage of guys who enjoyed the changes. There were plenty of fetishists who would pay her to strut around. “Besides, it’s just a little body mod. Get with the times mom.”
Her mother glowered. “A little body mod? This isn’t some nipple ring or a tattoo, this was your feet! You destroyed them!” A ghost of a thought drifted across Lily’s mind wondering if her mother knew about the two big hoops she had in her pert breasts, hidden under a soft bra. She let the thought go and glared right back at the middle-aged woman in the doorway. “No, I didn’t and that’s enough mom, I’m happy with my choice, and I don’t need you here ruining my recovery. I’m due to check out in a day or two, and the last thing I need is you being some old school boomer over this.”
“Ouch.” Her mother’s face fell. The old insult had been around a long time, but it fit her now, and Lily could tell that it stung to be on the receiving end of the term for a change.
“Now, if you’re quite done, I need to get some fresh pain killer. I start walking again this afternoon and I want some rest first.” Lily made it clear that her mother’s unwelcome visit was now over and she was free to leave, whether she liked it or not.
The older woman took the hint, but still made a final retort as she sulkily left the recovery room. “Fine, but please I hope you don’t regret such a drastic change.” The door slammed behind her.
“I won’t.” Lily said quietly, letting the room lapse into silence as her mother vanished down the hall.
Reaching down from beneath the covers she felt the changes she’d had done. The stretching of her feet, now tightly bandaged and splinted. Her fingers travelled down the length along the wrap to the fusion of her toes. The bandage gave way to the exposed new growth of hard keratin encasing the former digits. It felt strange to the touch, but she smiled anyway, knowing she’d finally gotten the hooves she’d always desired.
She lay back, pushing the button that released more painkiller, dulling the ache in her new hooved feet. She imagined getting shoed, and she could feel parts of her warming at the thought. Ideas percolated. Part of her wanted more, the hooves weren’t going to be enough. She bit her lip lightly wondering how much she could change. The technology was still so new, but so amazing. A slow smile spread across her face as her fingers danced along the curves of her hips and across the crest of her pelvic bone. Maybe some nice little crotch boobs, just like a real horse. Oh, that would be a nice touch. She was pretty sure her fans online would approve.
Licking her lips, she resisted the urges that ran through her in that moment. There would be time for that later. First, she would need to learn to be a proper pony. Her hooves would just be the start. |
Blood of Three
"Aspects of change in mind and soul Animal desire shall take control Upon the blood of three it feasts Beast to man and man to beast Wherever this hammer so fell In its shadow do not dwell Fertile thy land and fatten thy purse The blood of three ignite this curse A hand to carry me once again No longer that of mortal man" -Druidic inscription on the Hammer of Kerrs
Katie Carson lay atop a haystack, idly twirling a long strand of her own straw colored hair between her fingers as she looked up at the sky. It was so quiet out here on the family farm. An uncle she had never met had passed away, and as a result the property and bustling livestock business that accompanied it where now in the sole possession of her parents.
The family had been living very well off on a share of the profits from the farm, which Katie had never seen before. It was rather fragrant, but you quickly grew used to the smell. It wasn't like Katie was expected to partake in the day to day operation of the place either, no milking cows, mucking stalls, or anything of the like for her; unless she wanted to, of course.
She had taken a bit of an interest in things, and was quickly learning the proper way to do things from the laborers that worked the farm. All were of Fey blood, most looking human enough, but with a few features that weren't typically found on such people. Horns, a tail, pointed ears, sometimes fangs, claws, hooves, or even wings.
They said the land was filled with magic, and it had a special attraction for them. But the Carson family had always paid them well for their work, though most would work for room, board, and being so close to such magical land.
Perhaps the magic was why the Carson Plantation had always been the shining jewel of all the farms in the kingdom. Their grain was of superior quality, their cattle and swipe the largest and plumpest, the racehorses bred here had been champions for generations.
The Carson family prospered and thrived, and even when drought or disease struck the crops of the neighbors, none bore them any sort of ill will. For in times of need the Carsons had always opened their well stocked larders aided those in need.
While some of the other girls at the posh private school she had been to had been real bitches because of their family's wealth, Katie had always been pleasant and kind. She had never tolerated bullying, and there had been several blackened eyes because of it. Always on the cliquish princesses that thought that they had the right to do whatever they pleased because of their status.
While she hadn't been born on the farm, her father had, and while the farmhouse was something to rival the mansions and small keeps that some of the noble families had, she'd been looked down upon somewhat because her family still worked for their money.
But she also had been raised with a farm girl's sensibilities, which meant she was more than willing to settle battle face to face, rather than by pulling strings from behind the scenes.
It actually amused the faculty to no end. Many of the most stuck up students had never had a hand lain on them in anger before, and the sheer shock from being struck had put many in their place.
Katie could see why the Fey stayed here; somehow the place had a calming, relaxing effect. Taking away her worried, making her just feel happy to be alive. It was so peaceful and quiet, and there was always something that could be done if you felt a little restless.
But at the moment Katie was content to laze about and daydream. She took her hand from her hair and placed it back on the tan and white cat that had followed her around all day.
The farm's feline population seemed to take quite an interest in her. Since her arrival there had always been at least one cat, if not two in the same general area as she was, they seemed to be watching her.
She had left them alone and let them go about their business, but they had apparently decided that she was quite friendly, and many came up to twine themselves around her legs in figure eights, or hop into her lap when she sat, or nuzzle her fingers in search of pettings.
The cat's fur felt so soft, a joy to touch. She scooped up the feline and hugged it to her chest, rubbing her face in its soft bellyfur. Mmm, such soft, sweet fur; she wanted to feel more of it against her bare skin.
Wanting to fit in, she wore the simple blue canvas overalls that many of the workers wore. Considering how sweaty and dirt she usually got, she'd worn only a small, sort top to cover her breasts. The unbuttoned the overall straps and slipped her shirt off, allowing the cat to rest on her breasts and belly.
It felt so good, so very, very good. Katie moaned softly as she felt a fluttering need in her loins. She was familiar with the sensation, and also of how to quench it. She slid one hand down into the loose fitting garment, she hadn't seen much of a need to wear panties with it, and began slowly stroking herself.
She ran the other hand over the cat, who purred loudly, oblivious to what Katie was doing with her other hand. The feline lowered its head and closed its eyes, resting just below the girl's chin.
Katie was overcome with a strange urge, and her tongue slipped from between her lips, slowly tracing over the cat's fur. There was no taste, but the action felt comforting, calming, and it drove her lust higher. She began to finger herself as she licked and groomed the kitty.
-o-
Maggie had spent the afternoon helping to prepare several prized pigs for show at a local carnival. They had needed to be washed and scrubbed, looking their best for the judges, and that meant Maggie had gotten more than a little dirty with the filth that covered the pigs.
Rather than have water heated for a bath, she had simply gone down two one of the streams that flowed through the woods that were a part of the farm's land, and bathed there, in the deep, warm water.
There were hot springs in the hills where the streams formed, and the water retained much of its warmth as it reached this point; much easier to bathe in the warm water here than waste the time of the house servants, though they wouldn't see it that way. They lived to serve the land, the farm, the house, and whichever members of the Carson family dwelt within it.
Having since scrubbed and cleaned herself, Maggie had picked up her clothes and carried them along as she walked along the riverbank, naked. She admired her reflection in the water. She had been a quite stunning lass in her youth, and though she had lost her girlish figure, she thought that her plumpness actually added just a bit to her beauty.
It was a different sort of beauty, the pride of a mother. She wasn't tight in the places young men liked their women to be tight, but her body told that she had brought a beautiful baby girl into this world, and carried the marks on her belly and breasts as badges of pride.
She felt rather at home on the farm. She was of a noble family, as her husband had been raised in the city, and she had married for love, not money or status. Quite frankly, she had grown tired of the life of nobility, the political intrigue, the gossip and socializing, and most of all the obnoxious and uncomfortable clothing.
Out here she could wear what she like without comment of out of season fashion, or abhorrence that she would dress for function rather than for appearance. With so few eyes around, she could even walk around naked and free without fear that she might be gawked at.
She had taken to doing such at least once a day. Insects never seemed to bother her, nor had she seen any sort of nettle or poison ivy to make her bare skin itch if she happened to brush against it.
Maggie made a bit of a detour as the land took a sudden dip, the stream making a pretty waterfall. The spray left the ground around the falls rather muddy. The area carved out by the water had exposed some of the soft clay that appeared in large pockets in the area. The fields were free of it, but the rest of the land saw large deposits of the gray-brown stuff.
She giggled as a mischievous thought entered her mind. She set her clothes down and stepped into the thick, sticky mud. It oozed between her toes. It felt quite good, thick, smooth, sticky, and not grainy or sandy or anything. She dropped to her knees and scooped up thick handful, rubbing it on her skin.
Laughing, she dropped onto all fours and began to roll around. She would need another bath before she returned home, but she didn't mind. It was more time spent in the wonderful outdoors.
She was caked from head to toe in the mud, and it felt glorious. It made her feel great, made her feel... well more than a little horny. Knowing there was no one around, Maggie lay in the mud, legs spread, and let her fingers do the work. She was rather familiar with satisfying her own needs. Her husband was more of an intellectual, and she found that her libido was a great deal stronger than her husband's.
Rather than being a lustful annoyance, Maggie had taken to providing her own satisfaction when her husband was greatly occupied. But doing it out in the open, covered in mud, completely naked in the woods gave her an exhibitionistic thrill that added to her pleasure.
She moaned loudly as she drew her thumb of her clit in slow circles. No way in hell was she going to give this up and head back to the city.
-o-
Donnie hefted the milk can up, tilting it and pouring it out into the clawfoot bathtub that had been present in the cleaning room of the milking barn for as long as he'd known. The tub was their primarily to allow the staff the opportunity to wash up without having to travel all the way back to the main house.
The past few days he had been thinking about it more and more, a milk bath; a nice long soak in the sweet milk the farm's prize winning cows produced in abundance. Since he'd returned, the cows had been producing more than the usual amount, more than they could sell to nearby villages, or make into product for shipping.
So there was a bit of a surplus, and the cows had to be milked anyway, less the buildup cause discomfort. At least this way someone got enjoyment from it, rather than just dumping it on the ground or something.
Donnie locked the door to prevent one of the workers from barging in on his bath. There was a pump and trough outside for small scrub jobs, and most of the fey held off on washing until their tasks were done anyway.
He stripped off his clothes and admired himself in the mirror. His body was well toned from farm work and the exercise he'd done in the city to keep himself in shape. Though from the looks of it, it had been far too long since he'd done some honest work; he looked a little soft in places, and was visibly smaller than he had been on the last visit. The cook had commented on it, and had been making him meals to help him bulk up.
He was also beginning to suspect that he had grown far too used to the seaside air of the city, the dried air here seemed to leach the moisture out of him, and he had been drinking a great deal of fluids to slake his thirst; mostly milk.
He took a dipper from the wall and scooped up some milk from the tub, bringing it to his lips and gulping it down, milk training down the sides of his mouth and down onto his chest. A second dipperful followed, and a third, and a fourth, but he was still thirsty.
And what was more, he was starting to feel a little aroused. The farm had always been home, and it had sent his blood surging the past few days. Not wanting to wait any longer, he stepped into the tub and lie down, submerging himself from head to toe.
The milk had been that left from yesterday, and in the shade of the dairy's celler, it had become pleasantly cool. The coolness seemed to seep into his skin, relaxing him to his very being.
Donnie rolled over in the large tub, taking a crawling position. Gods, he was so horny. Keeping his body up with one hand, the other wrapped around his generous member. His face hovered just over the milk, and he pursed his lips, slurping up more of it.
He closed his eyes and began to stroke. His brother had been quite the womanizer, and it was whispered that the Carson clan men put their livestock to shame. It wasn't quite so large as that, but it was close.
His moan escaped as bubbling in the thick milk. There was no way to get any sort of experience like this back in the city. So good, so relaxing, so wonderful. Donnie was most certainly not going back to the city for quite some time.
-o-
Deep in the woods, overgrown by ancient brambles, something glowed. Despite how long it had been there, the metal pole hadn't tarnished with decades, perhaps centuries, of rain. What could be seen above the brambles was as thick as a strongman's leg, and perhaps just as tall as the strongman himself.
Streams of glimmering dust swirled in the air, pouring in from three directions. The motes of light circled the crooked pole before sinking in. It was tentative at first, slow, as if the specks were shy creatures exploring a place long abandoned.
And then, unbeknownst to one another, three climaxes erupted simultaneously across the Carson land. The motes lost their shyness and flowed into the overgrown shaft with the force of a flood-fed mountain stream.
The flow lasted only as long as the pleasurable sensations themselves, short and fleeting. As each of the Carsons felt sexual satisfaction welling up inside them, the glow began to dim and then vanished entirely. As did the motes that fed it.
But it did not matter. The land knew that there were three here, and it could only be awakened with three. No more, no less. Exactly three.
What had begun could not be stopped, even if its victims had desired to escape its effects. Even if they had been aware, they would not have resisted. For they had finally come home, and home was where they would stay. Forever. |
Probably should’ve invested in some safety rails, now that he thought about it.
The last thing Aadian saw before he was covered in gunk was someone on an upper level of the workshop bumping into a dangerously unsecured, uncapped barrel, sending it flying off the edge and its contents splurging all through the air, before darkness overtook him and his back was flattened to the floor. By the time he came to, a large group of workers had gathered around him, all trying to pull him up from the oozing substance that had slightly solidified around him, while the man responsible for the accident kept shouting apologies from up above. The Teshari couldn’t really think straight; hell, he could barely remember what happened until someone yanked some of the goop from his mouth and gave him a glass of water, and even then he had to contend with a pounding headache that refused to go away.
“What… w-what happened?” he mumbled, rubbing his head and finding it still coated in whatever was in the barrel.
“Someone dunked you in accelerator serum, boss,” one of his coworkers replied, sounding quite worried, “I think someone in the last shift forgot to fasten it and Bill didn’t notice it until it was too late.”
The words “accelerator serum” didn’t really register with Aadian until it was too late to do anything about it; then again, the substance had already infiltrated into his body from the moment he was covered in it, so there wasn’t a lot he could do there. The first indication he had that something was dreadfully wrong came when he heard the workers around him gasping and letting go of him, a few apologizing before trying, and failing, to catch him on the way down; rather than a dull thud, however, what he felt was a rather squishy landing, one that he certainly wasn’t expecting… but as soon as he looked down and observed his chest, the reason for this was made patently clear: he had tits.
Not just breasts, not merely boobs, but tits: big, round and absolutely stuffed with something resembling milk, if those spurts coming out of them were any indication. In those short moments in between the initial shock and him falling to his knees, they had somehow grown big enough to dangle dangerously close to the ground even when he tried to keep his back parallel to it, big enough that he could sink his fingers into one of them and they’d vanish completely in the pudge. It’d be alluring, downright arousing even, if not for the fact that they were still growing bigger and heavier, leaving him in a state of blind panic once he fully realized what was going on with him. He sprang to his feet, only to trip backwards and land flat on his ass thanks to his center of gravity being shifted so much, and from his new position got to observe as his bust continued to swell and bloat, taking up more and more of his lap as each second ticked by, making it harder to move the longer he waited. With no one around him willing to help, most likely convinced that they’d become infected by the serum as well, Aadian did his best to put his four arms to good use, hefting those heavy mounds and dragging his sorry self over to where he could find some help.
Sadly, by the time he reached Prinrin’s office, he was less thinking about how she might help him get back to normal and more wondering where he could get unlimited access to an industrial-grade milking machine, because those things he had attached to his chest were so full that he literally couldn’t take a single step more; the moment he opened the door to talk to the goblin he fell forward, by that point barely even moving an inch as the udders he sported had bloated out so much that they were already practically dragging along the ground. Even then, the small fall was enough for a good gallon or so of milk to spurt out from each of them, giving Prinrin all the information she needed to know on what was going on; with a disturbing amount of ease, she began acting even before Aadian managed to squeak out a small “Help!”, pulling on multiple conspicuously located levers and shouting orders into an intercom. Within moments, a whole entourage of robotic automatons appeared from multiple doors behind the Teshari, who was unfortunately too consumed by the sight of his own breasts to really notice (and quite literally at that, with his muzzle stuffed into his cleavage whether or not he liked it); though they struggled to move the mounting weight of those milk factories, the goblin’s robotic creations nonetheless managed to get enough of a grip on Aadian’s body to lift him up and carry him over to one of the containment cells, as per Prinrin’s instructions.
The goblin herself decided to join in, following the large group of robots as she loudly demanded explanations from the Teshari as to what in blazes had happened, only really stopping after the fourth or fifth time the answer was obscured and muffled by the same pair of milk-stuffed tits that were the problem to begin with. The tiny goblin sighed, rubbing her temple with one hand as the other went to work on a small data pad she carried on her; this way, she could remotely open the chamber and prepare it for its brand new occupant, though whatever they were supposed to do after Aadian was safely secure inside a locked room was still up in the air. There was so much that needed to be done that it wasn’t even funny: find the culprit, figure out what happened, try to come up with some sort of antidote, all while doing their best not to let the poor guy drown in his own milk, assuming that was even possible. All of this and more swam around inside Prinrin’s head when she unceremoniously ordered the automatons to drop the Teshari inside the room and then vacate the premises, giving the poor guy a nod and a half-hearted assurance that they’d find some way to “fix” him before inputting the security code on the door panel and locking the whole thing down.
She let out a long sigh again, followed by a very slow inhale and then a series of breathing exercises designed to help calm her down. Prinrin knew that if she walked into the main workshop floor without centering herself, there would be a non-zero chance of someone else being dunked in the same substance that led to Aadian’s growth spurt, and that was the last thing anyone wanted. Best if she calmed down before storming in and demanding answers, which was slightly complicated by the fact that she had to hear the Teshari on the other side of the door begging to be milked because of how stuffed he felt. Not being one to deal with those sorts of things herself, she offhandedly activated the sound dampening system and mentioned something to one of the nearest robots about making sure the drains were working properly, not bothering to check if the room that Aadian was in actually had them or not. The most important thing now was finding out what happened so she could finagle a solution, and to that end, Prinrin straightened out her back, cleared her throat, and marched straight into the main workshop area with her war face on.
Everyone’s reaction to seeing their boss show up could be adequately described as a mixture between existential dread and an intense need to pretend like they weren’t hearing anything. Surprisingly, not a single person spoke up once Prinrin demanded to know what had just transpired, hoping beyond hope that maybe, if only they said nothing at all, everything would go away and they wouldn’t have to provide any explanations. As the goblin continued to press the matter, however, and it became crystal clear that things wouldn’t magically vanish on their own, the many workers in the workshop began to look at one another, presumably in an attempt to find someone who might take the blame instead of them, before all of them ended up staring in the direction of a single person, the one who started it all: Bill, who was still in the upper levels trying to fix the disaster he had caused by putting some bloody safety rails in place where they should have been to begin with. The poor guy didn’t even notice it until the overwhelming silence began to register, at which point he began looking around in a blind panic; his questions would be answered once the service elevator slowly crept up towards the catwalks, a very pissed-off goblinoid standing inside of it with an accusatory glance, eyes like fireballs and her hands probably ready to sign off on a whole bunch of damning paperwork.
Perhaps the worst part of it all was that Prinrin was actually perfectly cordial and polite, albeit in a way that betrayed that she was one bad choice of words away from exploding with poorly tempered anger at the sheer idiocy that had led to one of her best workers being stuck inside of a room with a pair of perpetually-swelling tits. She wrote down as much as she could, gradually transferring her anger towards whoever was in charge of the previous shift, trying her best to stay focused on finding a solution rather than attempting to blame this incident on someone; it wouldn’t help anyone, nor would it solve the problem of the Teshari bloating up in the containment chamber. She concluded their “conversation” by gently reminding this Bill fellow that he had thirty minutes to fix the safety railing up to agreed-upon standards before “drastic measures” were enacted, then promptly turned around and headed back down the elevator, making sure to stare at everyone she could all the way to the exit. None of them dared look back, knowing better than to tempt their fate when Prinrin was actually justified in seeking retribution, and thus the goblin made her way back to the holding cell unimpeded; well, she though “holding cell”, but it was really more of a milking station at that point.
… wait, was it though? Did she remember to actually order her robots to milk the Teshari? Surely she had, that would’ve been an immense faux pas on her end if she hadn’t; one can imagine her surprise when Prinrin pulled a bench towards her and got on it in order to check on Aadian through the porthole, genuinely expecting to see several automatons hard at work emptying them out, only to be faced with… white. An off-colour white, to be sure, but one that was so pure and unchanging that it took a few seconds before the correct sequence of neurons fired to let the goblin know what it was she was looking at: milk. An all-encompassing, room-coating quantity of milk that had risen to such a height that it took her outright tapping on the glass for the vibrations to reveal just how thick the liquid on the other side was. From there it wasn’t too long until she practically fell off the bench in her hurry to get the door open, summoning about a dozen or so robotic units and ordering them to wait at the end of the corridor until she was done emptying the containment chamber. Luckily, the door opened outwards; not so luckily, the pressure inside was such that the moment Prinrin undid the lock, it forced the whole thing wide open and sent her reeling back, not from being hit in the face with a half-ton slab of steel, but thanks to the deluge of milk that gushed out from the room!
She blacked out for a few seconds, only vaguely aware of tumbling around and smashing against a wall, coming to when her brain failed to restart her breathing properly and needed some manual assistance. Prinrin found herself completely covered in milk from head to toe, smelling incredibly sweet and feeling like the definition of “sticky”, all while her gasping for breath was accompanied by another, far more frantic set of inhales and exhales coming from close by. She dared to look up, her eyes going wide at seeing what awaited her inside of the chamber she’d just opened; no wonder the milk levels were so high, Aadian’s tits alone occupied a good half of the volume inside of it, and were still growing to boot! The Teshari begged for her to help him, his voice muffled slightly by both the sounds of churning cream and the fact that it was coming from behind a pair of breasts larger than any the goblin had ever seen, but even then the panic was perfectly clear. Something had to be done, or that poor guy was going to be squished against the walls by his own bust.
Unfortunately for everyone involved, it wouldn’t be Prinrin who did anything to fix the situation at hand. She certainly wanted to, and had the moxie and determination to get it done, but sadly lacked the mobility required to actually get around to doing anything at all, for unbeknownst to her, the milk she had been blasted with shared the same growth and transformative properties as the accelerator serum that had caused the problem to begin with; as such, the moment the goblin attempted to move from her prone position, she suddenly found herself stuck to the ground by a pair of tits large enough to drag across the ground even if she were to stretch out her back properly. Panic was quick to set in, Prinrin flailing about as she commanded her automatons to “help”, a command so vague that the stupid things had to stand around processing it for a few seconds, at which point both their master and the unfortunate Teshari in the containment cell were both being buried by busts of calamitous proportions. Even when the robots did act, they did so by vanishing into their maintenance area, leaving both growth spurt victims to scream and beg for help for a couple of minutes before the automatons reappeared, dragging with them multiple ramshackle assemblies of pumps and tubes attached to large, apparently freshly-welded cylindrical canisters. Aadian couldn’t see what was coming, but Prinrin could, and still didn’t know whether to feel elated at the prospect that her creations were smart enough to interpret her command as a need for a milking machine, or utterly terrified at the prospect of turning into a goblin-sized dairy cow.
These, however, would be concerns for after she was done, for no matter how many reservations she might’ve had about the whole process, none of them survived first contact between her engorged, milk-leaking nipples and the suction cups at the end of the pumps. In fact, very little of her survived at all, leaving naught but a mewling, moaning mess begging to be drained harder. Which would probably be a necessity, all things considered.
They were still growing. |
“Ok, so you’re gonna have about an hour, during which I expect you to at least try and behave. I can fix most of the damage you can do, but if you decide to go off toppling buildings then I’m stepping in and turning myself into the fun police. And you don’t want that, do you?”
“No sir~!”
“Don’t you give me lip, Aleksi,” the lynx growled, “I’m serious. These aren’t models anymore, I can’t have you hurting people just because you want to get your rocks off.”
“Come on, Timmy, you know I’ll be fine!” the lizard replied, speaking words that were, at best, only half true, “And besides, it’s not like you haven’t done this before yourself!”
“Yes, I’ve done it myself, and I can trust myself to keep under control. Meanwhile, the last time you were in this room, I caught you naked, gallivanting through the model city and acting like a destructor deity on a sugar high. So look me in the eyes and tell me, with full honesty: can I trust you?”
They could… or at least, Aleksi was reasonably certain they could. It was hard to tell whether or not she’d be able to keep a good hold on her sanity after her growth spurt, but at least from where she stood at that moment, the lizard believed herself capable of holding back her more primal urges. As such, she held both of the lynx’s shoulders with her hands, leaned in for a long, passionate kiss, and then delivered her answer:
“You can. Please.”
Tim, already flustered from the sudden display of affection, did their best to pretend like they weren’t blushing, then turned around and powered the machine on. It was a personal invention of theirs, one that Aleksi had seen many times before, but never asked about, oddly enough; it was almost as if every time she wanted to, the thought just disappeared from her head. As the feline explained to her earlier, it was a simple teleporter device: person goes in, person comes out the other end; the key difference was that it also allowed its operator to set a number of parameters on the exit point… namely, just how large the person going through the teleportation process itself should be after leaving. It was the sort of spatial fuckery that was more often at home in speculative fiction and badly made porn flicks, yet somehow it had transcended being a trope and became reality, much to Aleksi’s utter bafflement and great surprise.
The two worked together to set the perfect target size for the lizard. Just big enough that she got to live out her fantasies of towering over the whole city, but not too big that it would be genuinely dangerous to let her roam about, even under the best possible circumstances. In the end, she’d still be taller than most buildings downtown, beaten only by a handful of skyscrapers, and at Aleksi’s own insistence, possessed of a set of curves that were significantly more exaggerated than her athletic, but mostly average ones. Tim knew exactly where she was going with that, but chose to leave it for after their roomie got back from her trip; punching the numbers into the machine, they asked her to step forward onto the platform and remove her clothes, as the teleporter didn’t yet work with anything that wasn’t organic in nature. The lizard tried pointing out that most of her attire was made out of cotton, and outright suggested that Tim was just doing it deliberately in order to get her to expose her naked self, but all the lynx had to do was ask if that wasn’t exactly what she herself wanted for Aleksi to blush slightly, look away, then ask for the machine to be turned on. Musing on something else that was already turned on, Tim flipped a switch, and before the lizard could say anything about that last quip, she was outdoors.
For a few moments, it felt as if she was back in her fantasy world, if only because it turned out she was exceedingly good at imagining what the view from an elevated height would be like. A small sea of rooftops sprawled all around her, the sounds of car horns and screeching tires reaching her from below as her sudden appearance disrupted traffic and the initial shock began to give way to panic; as much as the lynx had had their fun in previous occasions, having a several-story-tall colossus show up downtown in the middle of the day from nowhere was never something that people would, or even could get used to. Aleksi was lucky no one tried to ram a truck into her or something of the sort, though it was doubtful it would really do anything.
“Ok Aleksi, just… take a deep breath,” she told herself, holding her hands to her chest… and almost instantly remembering she asked Tim to make it big enough that she’d be able to feel its weight without even touching it, and indeed ended up with a pair of tits big enough to cover a substantial part of her torso, even bigger than her head, “ok, just… big, ok, but not too big, just the way I… just the way I wanted them, yeah, just perfect and big enough, that’s ok, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, fine, that’s fine!”
The last few words were shouted, Aleksi forcing herself to wrench her hands away from squeezing her brand new tits, not-so-coincidentally ending up swivelling them around to her ass and thighs, which had also received quite a bit of extra pudge, courtesy of teleporter fiddling with her measurements. She could’ve remained calm, could’ve told herself a few more things that wouldn’t make a difference, but what was the point? The whole idea of looming over the city as a giantess lizard was to show off her body and reap the benefits from living a fantasy in real life, so why should she even begin to care about holding back? The ensuing moan was loud enough that even Tim heard it, safely inside of their underground bunker, and immediately began making preparations for teleporting themselves should the earthquakes begin and the local emergency services be dispatched to fight the giantess taking over their city of residence.
The lynx need not worry though; as much as Aleksi was unable to contain the throaty, whorish noises coming out of her mouth, she wasn’t about to completely obliterate a whole metropolis like she did in her playtime. Those were just models; this was the real thing, with real people and real lives that mattered, with real eyes that could truly look upon her glorious frame, and true minds that could break in half from admiring her, and true worship that could feed her and make her even better, and true words that could lavish praise upon her person and make her feel like the best thing that’s ever existed…
… and suddenly, things stopped being simple. If before, Aleksi thought that she was able to control herself, now she was taken by a mighty, irresistible need to impose herself upon the world around her, and damn the consequences; if anything bad happened, surely Tim would show up and tell her to knock it off, just so she could defeat them in single giantess combat and proceed to take over the whole planet as their lizard goddess. Yes, that sounded right; better than that, it felt right.
Meanwhile, Tim had quite accurately predicted that a reaction like that was the most likely scenario, and was already keeping track of what was going on via the TV in their safe room. The second the giant lizard went off the rails, they were turning the bloody machine back on, and the moment they were back to safety, said machine was getting turned into scrap for as long as Aleksi and them lived together; honestly, the lynx just couldn’t trust that liz to do anything without finding some way to make it horny, a thought that was made significantly more painful than it had to be because it was, at least in large part, their own fault she turned out that way. If this exploratory session turned into a city-wrecking display of power, the cat couldn’t honestly pin it all on Aleksi without remembering who made her the way she was nowadays.
Nevertheless, they still held out hope that the giantess of their creation wouldn’t go too wild with her new powers, a hope that would be dashed in just a few short minutes, in the precise instant that Aleksi found a building she could use as a dancer’s pole of sorts. It managed to hold itself together quite well, though the people inside were given one colossal scare when every window was cracked open (quite literally) and the streets below showered in curtains of shards, with Aleksi’s feet stomping large craters into the roads and sidewalks during her haphazard, less-than-graceful attempt at twirling around the skyscraper… capped off, of course, by her smushing her breasts around it and proceeding to give herself a titjob of architectural proportions, leaving the inhabitants of that building to wonder if they should be panicking and running for their lives, or dropping their trousers and having as much fun as the giantess running her tits over and around their abode.
Tim watched all this with an incredulous look on their face; they had expected such a display to happen eventually, but barely five minutes into the teleport? Aleksi was clearly possessed of far less mental fortitude than they expected, and something had to be done about it; the cat missed the part where the top half of the skyscraper was pulled off, and the lizard decided to keep it secure in her bosom, biting her lower lip at the thought of putting it to good use elsewhere. After all, there were so many little ones in there, surely they wouldn’t mind if they were used to satisfy their new goddess, yes? Surely they’d be fine with their old home being shoved into her at full speed as an improvised phallus, even if it meant them being trapped inside of some very unwholesome places for as long as Aleksi could keep herself at that size… but no. Not because she didn’t want to, but because being responsible for the deaths of any of her soon-to-be worshippers was too much of a weight for her to carry; she might feel like a goddess, but she wasn’t truly capable of any extraordinary feats, and her supplicants were still tiny, squishy and eminently fragile, so the best thing for her to do was to slowly grab the chunk of skyscraper she had between her tits, place it on the ground, then angle it so it would lean against a cluster of buildings in just the right way that people could evacuate.
There. Perfect.
With that much taken care of, it was time to go back to flaunting herself, making a big show out of hip-checking large apartment blocks and sweeping her tail from side to side, just barely avoiding doing any real, lasting damage or hurting anyone (severely, at least), all while making sure to locate empty cars so she could step on them and turn the vehicles into thin, metal disks. Reaching the center of the downtown area only made the experience better, what with having to steer clear of traffic and squeeze between large clusters of structures that were as tall or even taller than she was. To make matters better, the first news helicopters were starting to circle her at that point, along with multiple news crews on the ground; Aleksi was certain the whole city was watching her by then, if not even a large chunk of the country around them, and as such, she made sure to give those people what they wanted: a show. A grandiose display of power. Curves for days. A beautiful, gorgeous lizard that anyone would want to sink their teeth into. Voluptuousness of a degree unimaginable by human minds.
All of this and more, always more… so much more that her body wasn’t enough.
Perhaps the teleporter shouldn’t have been linked to her when Tim tried to turn it back on, or perhaps the lizard had simply transcended the bounds of mere physics through raw desire, but the fact of the matter was, everyone in the city got to watch as that giantess looming over them began to expand in every direction, the shadow cast by her body becoming ever more consuming, the very ground beneath her quaking and trembling as she hunched over from the strain of becoming something greater… that is, before throwing her back out, extending her arms to either side of her, and unleashing the loudest, most powerful moan of her entire life! Faces for miles on end became bright red, many involuntarily, and the whole downtown area got to appreciate the sound of steel being bent and glass shattering when Aleksi’s true form was unleashed from within her, utterly obliterating several city blocks as the lizard exploded outwards and upwards, so tall that even the highest skyscrapers around her barely reached the middle of her chest!
She remained in that position, arms outstretched and seemingly welcoming the light of the sun, breathing heavily in the aftermath of her transformation. If Tim were to cross through the teleporter, they’d be surprised to find they would barely be above Aleksi’s waistline, though that didn’t matter anymore; what mattered was that the new lizard goddess got to look at herself and see how the city was insignificant compared to her body, and how much greater she was compared to even her own fantasy back home. But she could be better, couldn’t she? And with full control over her form, why not make herself better? Some more mass to her chest, really make it cover everything down to her navel and have an indecent amount of backboob; some more pudge to her thighs and rear, giving her that bottom-heavy look that jiggled endlessly with each step… and of course, making that tail of her extra long, just so she could seize the opportunity and wrap it around her lynx friend, who materialized right next to her and barely had enough time to realize what was going on before being dragged all the way up into the sky, to be eye-to-eye with their new divine ruler.
“I wonder,” Aleksi mused, her voice booming, “how much power you have hidden away inside of you, little kitten~”
Indeed, given the shapeshifter’s ability to… well, shapeshift, it was always a question that the lizard had: how much could the lynx change themselves? Perhaps it was time to find out, perhaps it was time to tap into their power and suddenly be given so much of it that, in the time it took for Tim to writhe in her grasp, Aleksi’s body jumped to nearly a hundred and fifty feet with quite a bit more softness added to her assets.
Fuck, her tits were heavy.
…
More. |
Zoo to Zoo
On a night like any other, the Terrapin County Zoo's Cat House was mostly silent. The big felines snuggled up in their dens to sleep. The only activity taking place in a small room in the back with a trio of teens cared for a number of kittens.
Up, about, and rather playful, the kittens ceased being rambunctious as they were held, bottles of milk placed to their tiny muzzles for their evening feeding. The zoo administration considered itself lucky, as they were blessed with six kittens that would one day go on to be the pride of the cat exhibit.
None of the kittens had names yet, as voting and ideas and committees and such had bogged down over whether they wanted to give them African or Indian names, let the community suggest them, or just let the primary handlers themselves pick out names.
The three teens, HM, Steve, and Cecilia, had all volunteered to help at the zoo, watching the kittens through the afternoon and evening, letting the primary handlers get some uninterrupted sleep.
It was their first day and all were still a little awestruck by the cuteness of the fuzzballs. "I can't get over how big and fluffy their tails are." HM said with a smile, looking down at the two snow leopards, both females, and both asleep in his lap.
"I never knew that baby lions could have spots." Steve said, both lion cubs, a male and a female, eagerly sucking on bottles.
"Eeek! Get out of there you little brute!" Cecilia giggled, removing a tiger kitten's paw from inside her shirt.
Little did they know the true nature behind their employment, the zoo itself, or what was about to happen.
It happened in a flash, the lights flickered and went out, plunging the room into darkness.
"Don't worry," HM said, "The generator ought to kick on in a little bit."
In a few moments the room was brightly lit again, but not from the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. An eerie blue-green light filled the kitten nursery, accompanied by a strange hum that seemed to make the three teens insides vibrate.
"What the hell is that?!" Steve called.
There was a sudden flash of bright green light and Steve vanished, along with the lion kittens.
"Steve!" Cecilia called out, eyes wide in horror at her friend's sudden disappearance. With a second flash she vanished as well.
HM stood up, taking care to hold onto the snow leopard kittens. Not wanting to vanish like his two friends, he began to run for the door. He never made it. The last of the three humans vanished without a trace before he'd taken a second step.
The green-blue light vanished and the lights returned to normal, leaving no trace of what had occurred.
-o-
Each of the three could never quite recall what exactly had happened in the moments after. There were flashes of searing pain, incredible pleasure, a sense of being strapped down in the dark and being poked and prodded, given injections, hooked up to IV's full of strange glowing fluids. But they all remembered the blue eyes, glowing in the darkness.
All three awoke sometime later, not knowing what had happened, where they were, or what they had become.
Cecilia opened her eyes first, blinking a few times, feeling soft grass beneath her naked body. She moaned softly and sat up, her entire body feeling sore. She shut her eyes and raised a hand to her head, trying to rub away the dull ache. She was surprised to find fur.
Soft, feline fur at her temple. Not believing it, she moved her hand backwards, finding her hair and then her ear. The rounded ear of a tiger, placed high on her head. She opened her eyes and found a short muzzle in the lower part of her vision. She yelped and looked downward at her transformed body.
A pair of large, furred breasts obscured her view, stripy near the sides, creamy white near the middle. She whimpered softly at the sight and brought her hands, similarly covered in three colour fur, to her chest. They felt real. They felt better than real, they felt good.
A low, pleasured moan escaped Cecilia's muzzle, her touches stirred something between her legs. She felt something... strange. Something hard and growing. She slid one hand down her altered body, dreading what she would find. There was a second surprise on the way down, her hand finding another breast positioned below the first. She had four breasts and...
The tigress' eyes widened as she discovered what was between her legs. She had a cock. An entire cock, a seemingly fully functional male reproductive organ. It had a sheath, it had a scrotum, it had testicles. Her hand crept lower, sliding around her new sack, investigating the place where her femsex had once been. But now only fur resided there. She was a boy. A boy with breasts.
"What happened to me?" the tigress whimpered softly, finding herself growing increasingly aroused as a sweet, musky scent filled the air.
"Mmm... Cecilia? Wha... what happened?" came a voice from her right. The tigress looked over to find two more creatures like her, humanoid felines, one a snow leopard, who was still asleep, and the other a lioness, who was blinking and sitting up.
"Ooof." Steve said, an unaccustomed weight on his chest. His voice was different, more feminine, as was his... her... body.
"What the hell?!" the lioness said, looking down at her furred chest, "I have breasts and I... I'm all fuzzy! And I sound like a girl!"
Steve's hand darted to her groin, issuing a sigh of relief as she found her manhood intact. She brought a hand to her chest, giving one of the new additions a squeeze and gasped at the pleasurable sensations that filled her. Her sensitive nose also caught the enticing scent on the air.
Steve turned her head, her jaw dropping at the sight of Cecilia. "Wh... what happened to us?" the lioness asked, a little afraid, but she also felt incredibly turned out by the sight of the sexy shemale tigress.
"I don't know." the tigress said, looking around at their environment. It looked like a grove of trees in a forest or something.
"I... think we better wake up HM, if that is HM. Probably is since we all seem to look like the kittens we were feeding." the lioness replied.
Cecilia nodded and shakily got to her feet. Her body felt sore, achy, strange, but incredibly good. The tigress had noticed that all three of them seemed to have been given toned, athletic builds along with their transformed bodies.
She helped Steve to his feet and the two began to approach HM, the enticing scent growing stronger.
"Mmm... Steve? Do you smell that?" Cecilia asked.
The lioness nodded, "Yeah, I do, it smells... good. It's making me..." she blushed, realizing she was fully erect and completely naked.
"Horny." the tigress finished, beginning to pant.
The two shemale cats knelt over their friend, gently shaking the snow leopard, the scent most definitely coming from HM.
"HM, man, wake up." Steve whispered, trying desperately to keep himself from jerking off.
"Yeah, something weird's going on." Cecilia added.
The snow leopard yawned and blinked her eyes, uncurling from the foetal position. HM definitely felt weird, his chest and belly felt... heavy somehow, and there was an unpleasant, wet ache in his loins. He absently reached down to scratch the unpleasant itch, and found that he wasn't a he anymore.
"Wha... what?!" HM sputtered as she became fully awake, realizing that she was fully female. She saw her breasts, saw her furred arms, looked worriedly to the two shemale felines beside her, eyes going to their erections. She shivered as she realized what the itch was.
"Oooh shit." HM moaned, her mouth and pussy both feeling uncomfortably wet. "What the fuck happened?"
Cecilia shook her head, "I don't know. There was the light..."
"And then some stuff, and then we all woke up here as cat people with gender identity problems." Steve added.
"And you're in heat, and it's driving us crazy." Cecilia purred, finding herself pressing up again HM, licking the snow leopard's neck.
"Y-yeah, HM. I... I feel so horny, I can't help it, and you... look so sexy." Steve purred, handpaws kneading the topmost pair of the leopard femme's six breasts.
"S-stop it! I'm a... AAAAH! I'm a guy!" HM moaned, her heat stricken female body responding to the affections of the two shemales.
"Your body is female; you smell like a female, you feel like a female. I bet you ache like a female too, a sexy she-cat in heat. I bet you want us inside of you as much as we do." Cecilia said with a grin, scooting behind HM, the heat of her throbbing cock felt on HM's back. She wrapped her arms around the leopard's body and began to toy with HM's breasts as well.
"Nrgh!" HM growled, the needful desire inside her body intensifying with each gentle caress. "F-f-fine! F-fuck me! J-just... don't tell anybody if we get back?"
The shemale cats nodded and grinned. Both released their grip on HM, allowing the leopardess to drop to all fours. She turned and pounced Cecilia, the leopard's eye on fire with lust and desire.
"Don't tell ANYBODY about this!" she warned Cecilia as her rough tongue traced over the head of the tigress' manhood, "I need to suck you off, I dunno why, I just do."
The tigress purred as the leopard's rough tongue encircled her manhood. HM began to purr as well, the soft vibrations driving Cecilia crazy. She gripped her friend's ears gently, her thumbs stroking the soft, sensitive fur.
The leopardess quivered as the lioness slowly slid her member between her eager, aching netherlips. Steve joined the purring as well, leaning down and nuzzling HM's neck, her handpaws gripping HM's largest and uppermost breasts.
"Mmm... so this is what it feels like to be a guy. No wonder you guys act like you do." Cecilia giggled.
Steve's facial fur fluffed in a blush, "I don't know what it is but..." she lowered her eyes and looked away, "This feels better than anything I did as a full on guy."
HM nodded slightly and purred her agreement. Having one cock in each end was the greatest thing she had ever felt. She craved the seed of her two companions, and had been provided with instincts on just how to coax it out of them. Having never done it before with this particular arrangement, she had no idea that she fucked like a pro.
With sensitive, unfamiliar bodies, and a very eager and talented HM pulling them along, Steve and Cecilia rapidly reached the heights of climax, rewarding the leopardess with the sweet seed she craved. HM refused to let either withdraw until she coaxed the last drop from their bestial members.
When HM finally had her fill, the three feline friends cuddled together, hugging, purring, and petting one another. They didn't say anything, they simply basked in the afterglow of what had just happened and tried to catch their breath.
HM was the first to speak, "My tummy feels funny." The leopardess said, attempting to look down past her breasts at her belly, "It feels like it's growing."
Cecilia nuzzled HM's shoulder and ran her handpaws over her lover's belly, "I think spotty-kitty just wants a tummy rub."
HM moaned and gasped, "Oh that feels incredible! Don't stop!"
Steve pulled away a bit, looking down at HM's funny-feeling tummy. It was a little more rounded than she thought it had been before, and as Cecilia rubbed and caressed it, it continued to push outward, slowly. In a few seconds the cause for the funny feeling was kind of obvious.
"Umm... HM?" Steve said, a little embarrassed, "I kinda think you're pregnant."
HM blinked and directed a glare at her friend, "Don't be silly, it doesn't happen THAT fast."
"People don't spontaneously turn into big fuzzy kitty cats with gender identity issues either!" Steve said with a scowl, and then began to rub HM's belly as well, silencing her moans with a muzzle to muzzle kiss.
The growth continued for a few minutes, until HM looked a good nine months pregnant with triplets. Her breasts had grown a bit as well, filling with milk, confirming the pregnancy.
The two shemales petted and caressed their pregnant lover, and feeling a bit thirsty, they began to nurse from HM. Cecilia's handpaw slipped down between HM's legs, hoping to temporarily plug the leak that seemed to continuously drip from her.
HM placed an arm around the neck and shoulders of the other two felines, hugging them gently as they suckled and pleasured her. They hadn't noticed their own breasts beginning to swell with milk as well.
The nursing and caressing left them in a sort of pleasurable haze, a semi-catatonic, lazy state where they purred and cuddled and caressed one another without a care in the world.
It was as HM's six breasts were at last drained that the three had a visitor. Steve and Cecilia had fallen asleep, using HM's lap as a pillow as they cuddled together. So it was only the leopardess that saw the soft blue glow of their visitor's eyes.
It looked like a four foot tall mantis wearing a small harness for tools. HM felt instinctively that it meant no harm, and she waved to it. The creature chirped and waved back, approaching with a small glowing crystal that it waved slowly over the three felines, consulting a matching orb afterwards; some sort of medical diagnostic tool, perhaps?
It nodded to HM and patted the leopard's belly.
"What did you do to us?" she asked, not angry, just curious, "And why?"
The insect didn't answer. It didn't need to. The images appeared in HM's mind. The trio of felines was designed to conceive and birth fully animal offspring. HM would carry twelve kittens to term in short order, four of each species, and the three of them would nurse and raise each litter until they could be given to parents that were more feline than human, that would teach them how to hunt.
And once the kittens had grown to adulthood, they would be used to help restore the dwindling wild population of each endangered species, as well as provide a population to take root on a planet sized nature preserve. Even if the Earth's big cats died out, lions and tigers and snow leopards would thrive elsewhere in the galaxy.
HM nodded simply and smiled, closing her eyes. She didn't mind at all. It was why she and her two friends had signed up to work at the zoo, to help the big cats escape extinction. But now they could contribute far more than they had ever hoped.
HM joined her friends and lovers in slumber, dreaming of tiny kittens nursing at her breasts. |
Sleeping didn’t help. Despite the best of intentions, Tim’s suggestion that Spikes try the closest he had to switching off and on again didn’t go anywhere, with the damage done to their body remaining exactly the same; even going so far as rebooting the Digivice controlling the Rena did very little, if anything, to curtail the glitches, leaving the two of them bereft of any options and lacking in any clue on how to proceed. Even worse, with the one responsible for it having gotten away, the couple couldn’t even pretend to have any sense of closure; the cheetah’s laughter as they put away the weapon responsible and sprinted into the distance would haunt the two of them for years to come, even if they did end up catching the bastard and bringing him to justice.
It was so sudden as well, inexplicable really: one moment the couple was enjoying a nice warm day at the park, not really doing anything so much as just appreciating one another’s company, and the next they were listening to someone cackling in the distance before the monologuing began, something about perfecting the ultimate life form or some such; it sounded so much like it had come from a movie that both Tim and Spikes zoned out halfway through, being more concerned with the fact that the mad cat in front of them was waving what looked to be a gun in their face… albeit one that was built out of a bunch of ramshackle pieces of scrap haphazardly welded together. Neither of them believed it was capable of firing properly, but they weren’t about to gamble on maybes; unfortunately for them, this ended up biting them, hard, because as soon as the cheetah was done delivering their raison d’être in soliloquy form, they promptly pointed the “gun” at Spikes and pulled the trigger.
There was no sound, nor a laser beam or even the faintest traces of a physical projectile, but the Renamon was still projected backwards by some kind of phantom impact, rolling around on the grass for several feet before skidding to a half; the cheetah, for his part, had his eyes glued on the device he was holding, his lips curling into a manic grin before he broke into hysterical cackling, declaring that the experiment had been a success before turning around, promising to “see them soon”, and vanishing into the nearest treeline. Behind him, the chee left an intensely confused Tim and an apparently injured Spikes, who struggled to get back onto his feet after the invisible force knocked all the air out of his lungs; he hadn’t noticed what happened to his body, but the lynx did when they turned around to help their partner, having to stifle a yelp by placing both hands over their mouth.
The Rena’s body had been… altered, though perhaps a better choice of words would be “carved up”: it was still the same shape as before, but random patches of it had turned into confusing patches of static and glitched graphics, looking as if Spikes’ body had lost its associated textures and had been replaced with whatever their digital form perceived as the “default” one, before promptly going tits-up and just ceasing to function properly altogether. There was no pattern to it as well; it was as if the weapon the cheetah wielded had randomly erased parts of the Rena’s body with no rhyme or reason, leaving him looking… unfinished.
Perhaps the worst of it was that one of Spikes’ eyes had its sclera go completely black, occasionally having small graphical glitches blitz through it; it gave the poor guy an aura of threatening menace that was entirely undeserved, like someone had drawn up their idea of a “big scary monster” and superimposed it onto someone who wouldn’t hurt a fly even if it had been annoying them for hours on end. Tragically, Spikes himself seemed entirely unaware of what had happened, at least judging from their outward confusion at Tim’s expression and the shocked scream that escaped from his lips once he looked down to inspect what he assumed to be either a bullet hole or a serious burn wound; that he would discover his body was missing parts of it in the most esoteric way possible was not something he expected, which only added to the ensuing panic attack, one that followed Spikes all the way home.
Only time could fix that problem; the Rena needed to see that his physical avatar was still capable of functioning, even with chunks of it glitched out, and while he slowly became aware that he had completely lost sensitivity in the parts of him that were gone, the rest of him seemed to work as intended. Internally, there seemed to be no damage, something all-but confirmed fully when Tim made some tea for the both of them; for all intents and purposes, the injuries inflicted had been fully superficial… but the words spoken before they were inflicted left the two of them wondering just how true that might be.
Assuming they hadn’t just been assaulted by a complete lunatic with a modified Digivice, all the talk about creating life could lend credence to the idea that they had effectively stolen data from Spikes, to use in whatever demented project they were working on; that would certainly explain why nothing either of the housemates did seemed to work, from fiddling with the Renamon’s personal digital controller, to rebooting it, to just having him try and sleep it off. It seemed that, against all odds, the missing parts of Spikes’ body were truly missing, not just deleted, leaving behind a hole that couldn’t be fixed on account of the data fuckery required for something of that caliber to even happen.
It wasn’t so much a case of the data being gone so much as it had been ripped out forcefully without any kind of preparation, leaving the Rena’s physical avatar as corrupted as the digital self that it was the projection of; seeing as both Spikes and Tim’s understanding of digital biology was somewhat lacking, this left them in the unenviable position of trying to make sense out of something they literally lacked the knowledge required to even grasp the basics of. This hit Spikes especially badly, as he felt that, being his body, then naturally he should be capable of understanding what was wrong with it, only for every attempt at introspection or physical analysis to end up being a perfect analogue to him smashing his forehead against a wall for several hours on end; nothing he tried worked, which made some sense given that he had no method, no understanding of the theory behind it, and, perhaps most importantly, no idea what the weapon that caused it even was.
Maybe if he could get his hands on it, then perhaps there’d be a breakthrough, but in the absence of the device, all they could do was throw random thoughts at the wall and see what stuck. This was especially important for Tim, who had taken it upon themselves to uncover the truth of what had happened, even if it meant going half-mad in the process; while they had no clue how anything about digital data corruption worked, what they did have was an internet connection, an ample supply of caffeine, and a body that they could manipulate at will, all ingredients that allowed them to fully dedicate themselves to the single-minded pursuit of whatever scraps of information could be remotely useful in their current predicament.
More than one sleepless night was spent pouring through technical manuals, most of the contents of which went right over the lynx’s head, or crawling through specialist internet forums in the hopes of finding anyone who might’ve encountered any similar phenomena; when that turned out dry, the focus shifted towards attempting to identify, or at the very least find the slightest hint of, who their assailant might be. Ultimately, Tim knew that neither them nor Spikes would be able to fix the glitch problem without getting a good look at what caused it, and without direct access to whatever that weapon was, it was doubtful they’d ever find the root cause; unfortunately, given the lack of any actual information on who the cheetah was, trying to use vague descriptors led down a series of entirely pointless rabbit holes relating to police arrests and raids that, while initially promising, always ended up in nothing… at least, until Tim randomly stumbled onto something they didn’t even remember searching for.
It had become a habit by that point, what with them being trigger-happy with opening new tabs, to end up with most of their browser filled with entirely extraneous windows that the cat just happened to click for whatever reason, and while nearly all of them were ultimately worthless, one turned out to contain just the right amount of keywords for the lynx’s brain to think about looking into it deeper. At face value, it looked to be an entirely ordinary piece of news about a series of minor thefts from local workshops and repair garages, notable only because whoever was responsible always left a note thanking the proprietor for their “contribution to the advancement of science”; the main reason why no one had given this much thought, and why it was relegated to the back page of a local newspaper, was precisely because the “thefts” were so minor that those affected felt it wasn’t worth the trouble of contacting the police.
In fact, as far as Tim could ascertain, these incidents stretched back far before the article came out, with its author being the first to think about collating them into a news piece thanks to its novelty value, using it as a springboard to muse about the existence of a “budding supervillain” in an almost unbearably tongue-in-cheek tone. The article itself was mostly garbage as far as the lynx was concerned, but it did offer a series of names of those who’d been targeted by the phantom thief, whoTim was convinced had to be the cheetah that had attacked the two of them in the park; it would be far too much of a coincidence for someone to be stealing random mechanical parts from multiple different locations, only for a second, unrelated individual to show up with a weapon looking like scrap metal bolted together and monologuing in much the same tone as the mysterious notes.
No, it had to be the cheetah, and seeing as they were polite enough to thank their victims, that meant they left a trail, and trails could be followed; from there on, the lynx’s attention was focused entirely on attempting to find a pattern to the thefts, and within a couple of short days their room had turned into a parody of a conspiracy theorist’s den. In all honesty, the red string was entirely unnecessary, but Tim figured that if they were going to go deep, they might as well buy into the aesthetic, even if it did leave Spikes worried that his partner was losing their mind; in reality however, the cat had never been more awake, their mind never more sharpened, as they painstakingly tracked every single person that had ever been stolen from by way of the original news article, anything it linked, phone calls to those affected and even deep dives into the local police archives in search of the few people who did call in to report their missing property.
Soon enough, when the map of the city was unfurled and pinned on a corkboard, and the various locations connected by string, the truth became obvious: it was a circle. Or rather, the locations hit by the cheetah all fit within a roughly two-mile-wide circle, centered on one of the outlying suburbs to the east; while the actual thefts themselves seemed to have no pattern to them, every location that the lynx could dig up inevitably ended up placed somewhere in those twelve and a half square miles, presumably because the cheetah was walking there on foot to avoid drawing too much attention to himself. It made far too much sense, at least in Tim’s mind, for it to not be true… and given that the circle’s center was a relatively small neighborhood, it should be easy to scout the location and find where their quarry lived.
It was a fantastic victory for the investigation, and really, it had only come at the cost of the lynx nearly losing their minds from lack of sleep and an excess caffeine overdose, both of which left Spikes so worried that the Rena occasionally forgot that they had their body glitching out at all. Granted, it was surprisingly easy for it to slip from his mind, on account of it not really feeling like anything; apart from the lack of sensations in the affected areas, the Renamon’s body kept functioning like it always had, creating an odd sense of unbalance where he knew something was wrong with him, and yet nothing wrong actually happened no matter how bad the situation looked.
The worst aspect of it was, honestly, his inability to head outside without some extremely concealing clothing, which was a slight issue in the middle of the summer; the moment he revealed any of his glitches to the world, he was guaranteed to have someone scream in shock and claim that he was a monster of some kind, creating a whole scene that he had to defuse, then waste time explaining what happened for the upteenth time in a row. In a sense, Spikes almost wanted the data corruption to do something to him, since at least then he’d have an excuse to hop onto bed and not leave until things were fixed; instead, he was left in an odd limbo where it was bad enough to negatively affect him, but not nearly enough for it to be crippling, hence his fixation on the lynx’s problems and how much their lack of care for their own body was slowly destroying it.
Thankfully, with the potential discovery of their assailant’s home, they could finally formulate a plan of action. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was something, and they could work with something; neither of the two were very much willing to engage in some home invasion, but what they could do was locate the house and gather as much information about it as possible, maybe even spot the cheetah if they were lucky. What would happen after that, they didn’t know; with Spikes’ condition being what it was, both the Rena and the lynx were content with taking things one step at a time so as to avoid any surprises. Plus, they didn’t know whether their attacker was going to make good on their promise of “seeing them” again; the whole situation had just turned into one big game of cat-and-mouse.
And with Tim and the cheetah both being felines, Spikes didn’t like where that left him. |
Costumed Chaos
"It's mine, Chase! I bought my costume first, it was my idea, so I should get to keep the trophy!" Jema said with a scowl, the blonde gripping the first place plaque for the costume contest.
"Please! You learned about the place from me! You probably snooped around and pestered all my friends about where I buy my jeans. She's the best tailor in the tri-state area, and with YOUR fashion sense you'd never have gone to her on your own! You just started wearing those clothes to piss me off!" Chase said in reply, tugging equally hard on the wooden plaque, her long, raven black hair coming looser of its ponytail with each tug.
The two girls had been rivals for as long as the town could remember. Born a few months apart and into the two richest families in town, the two had been at each others' throats since they were in diapers. They tended to have similar tastes and similar ideas, and one was always accusing the other of ripping them off.
On this occasion each had thought to mock the other by dressing up as the animal that was used in her rivals favored way of referring to the other. Jema had always been referred to by Chase as a dumb cow, despite her above average grades, Chase hadn't scored below an A in any class she'd ever had. Chase, on the other hand, had been a bit chubby as a youth, not fat by any means, just a somewhat different build. Jema had always called her a fat pig.
Both girls had purchased cute costumes that used the features of their animals and made them each a sexy personification. Both wore a skin tight bodysuit, Chase's a pleasant pink, Jema's white with black spotty blotches. But neither outfit was purely one or two colors, they had little painted details that made the bodysuit look more real, more natural.
There were facial prosthetics as well, giving Jema a cute little upturned nose and pointed ears, while Chase had small black horns and a slight muzzle. Both wore high heeled platform boots with the toes modeled to appear like hooves, each had an accompanying skimpy outfit to further enhance their look.
Going with the cowgirl look, Jema had donned a small straw cowboy hat, a pair of cut off jean shorts with the legs almost entirely removed, and a white top made from a t-shirt that tied between her breasts. Chase had gone for something similarly showy, a black leather and studs semi-biker look, with a pair of tight shorts and a halter top, as well as a matching hat and fingerless gloves. A cow girl and a road hog.
The two continued to shout insults at one another, engaged in a tug of war for the first place plaque, both having forgotten the warning that Miss Romaine, the costumes' creator, had given them.
"It would be in your best interest to take the costume off before six hours have passed. Otherwise you will not be wearing it anymore." The demure woman had said in her foreign accent, neither girl had noticed the small smirk on her face and the glimmer of mischief in her eye.
Both girls had taken it to mean something along the lines of the fabric of the two bodysuits would likely get sweat stained by then, and thus ruin the costume's look. But that was not what the tailor's words had meant. Like many of the others in the town, she had grown tired of the constant bickering between the two, and had seen fit to perhaps provide a solution to the problem that plagued every upper class social event.
Neither of the girls could recall which of them had thrown the first punch, or even if one had been thrown, but both felt a sudden impact and as had happened many times before, their bickering became a full on fight.
Jema let go of the plaque, so she could lower her shoulder and jam it into Chase's gut, intent on taking her to the ground. The hurtful words gave way to grunts and growls as the two wrestled with one another. The two were evenly matched, but the heavier Chase was the one who finally ended on top, Jema pinned beneath her.
Both were sweaty, dirty, bruised, and panting for breath. But neither noticed that their costumes weren't torn in the slightest. "Ok... look," Chase said, sucking in deep breaths, the nose prosthetic making it a bit hard to breathe, "I'll take the plaque home, and the next time we tie on something, you can take that prize home, okay?" she said with a sigh, knowing that Jema was just as stubborn as she was.
"I'll take it home and I'll pay for the guy who made it to make another for you." Jema said, a little more breath in her as her bovine muzzle prosthetic had larger nostrils.
"Deal." Chase said with a nod, "Now let go of my leg so that I can get up."
Jema looked puzzled, "I'm not holding your leg!"
"The hell you're not!" Chase said with a scowl, trying to move her left leg, "I'm trying to stand up and I can't"
"I don't have your leg!" Jema said with a matching scowl, "You're pulling on mine, quit it! Now get off of me!"
Chase tried to do so, but as she got her right leg under her, pushing upward, Jema cried out, "QUIT PULLING, YOU BITCH, THAT HURTS!" she shouted, pulling Chase down by the shoulders.
The brunette landed on the ground next to her rival, coughing as the wind was knocked out of her.
"S... something's wrong." Jema said, her voice, full of fire a moment before, now sounded small and meek.
Chase propped herself up with her hands, looking down towards the problem. The metal brackets for her boot laces must've gotten caught on Jema's somehow. But as she looked to see where she could untangle their legs, she was met with a rather strange sight.
The black leather motorcycle style boot wasn't tangled with Jema's brown tooled leather cowboy boot, it had merged with it. Somehow the two girls now shared a knee, calf, and foot between them. The shared boot was now a rather dark shade of brown, with the same pattern as the cowboy boot, but also with the laces and ringlets of Chase's combat boot.
Both looked at the shared appendage with wide eyed horror.
"No way," Jema said softly, "No way that can be happening.
"M-maybe someone slipped something into our drinks at the party?" Chase offered as an explanation.
"Y-you're seeing the same thing I am, right? Our legs fused together below the knee?"
Chase nodded, "Th-that's what I see too. You're right, we shouldn't be having the exact same halucinat... urgh!"
Chase's hand went to her stomach and she shuddered as a strange sensation passed through her.
Jema put a hand to her rival's shoulder, concerned, "Chase, what's wrong?" she asked.
"I feel weird!" she said, panicky, "I feel... oooh!"
She half-moaned , half-gasped as her breasts seemed to swell, as if they were balloons slowly being inflated. She shuddered again and clenched her teeth. There was a soft sound, like stretching cloth, and Jema watched the pink body suit vanish from Chase's body. The prosthetics, the suit, the false teeth, it had all vanished, leaving Chase wearing the clothes she'd worn over it.
"Chase, what's happening?" Jema asked, before crying out as the same sensation struck her as well.
It was like a cold chill over her entire body, followed by the pins and needles feeling of a part of the body having gone to sleep, shortly followed by a half-pleasurable sensation in her chest as her breasts slowly began to grow.
Jema's nipples tingled, and ached. It felt like they were being slowly pulled and stretched. "What's happening to me?" she whimpered.
"Y-your skin... it's... changing color!" Chase said, the blonde watching her rival with rapt fascination.
Jema fought the weird sensations that were making her clench up and managed to open her eyes, looking down at her mostly bare body. Her bodysuit had vanished, and her skin was rapidly lightening in color, losing its well-cared for, all-over tan. As it turned pure white, points of pigmentation began to appear, spreading wider, like ink being poured onto paper. In a few moments Jema's skin had taken on the bovine pattern of her bodysuit.
As the two had been watching Jema's skin shift, so had Chase's, her own tan had been replaced by a rosy, piggish pink. The blonde could also see that the lower two canine teeth in Chase's wide open, awed mouth had grown longer, bigger, and pointier.
Her inspection was cut short by the inability to draw breath. She tried to breathe in, but found herself suddenly unable to due to an uncomfortable tightness in her chest, a tightness caused by her tied top constricting her still-expanding breasts.
"Fuck!" she whispered, fumbling with a knot for a few moments before finally getting it, her twin orbs spilling forth, her nipples immediately hardening in the cool night air. All eight of them; eight wide, thick, two inch long nipples.
"Th-they're like cow udders!" Jema said in disbelief, horrified at the sight of her chest, "Ow!" she shrieked as she felt pain shoot through her body.
She swatted Chase's offending hand, rubbing the tweaked nipple, "What did you do that for?" she demanded.
"I.. I had to see if they were real!" Chase said, eyes wide with astonishment.
Chase yelped as she saw her hand, the formally red painted nails having turned black. She whimpered as she watched the black slowly spread over her fingertips, each one becoming black and shiny. "Oh no," she whispered, "No, no, no!"
She watched with horror as her fingers began to merge, the index and middle fingers slowly fusing, and then the ring and pinkie fingers. Her entire hand seemed to thicken, matching the size and shape of the altered digits, her thumbs growing larger to even it out as well.
Jema didn't notice the changes to Chase's hands, or to her own. She was too busy staring at their continuing merge. Her leg seemed to melt away, pulling her closer and closer to Chase, inch by inch. The two were now connected to the inner thigh, and the process that had halted at the knee before now showed no sign of stopping.
In a panic, Jema tried to pull away from Chase, trying to separate herself from her increasingly more porcine rival. But all she managed to do was drag the pig-girl along with her.
"Stop it!" Chase shrieked, striking Jema about the shoulder with a fist as best she could. Then she began to panic as well, as she couldn't pull her hand back.
"Nice going!" she growled to Jema, the two being tugged together faster than ever. The divide was at their waists now, and it continued to pull them closer and closer together. Chase's arm had gone numb, and it seemed to flow into Jema almost like a liquid. Jema's own arm caught as she flailed around in a panic, the limb being tugged into Chase's tummy.
"Make it stop! Make it stop!" Jema shrieked, her face beginning to press outward into a short muzzle.
The two were now joined a quarter of the way up their torso, their shared leg now looking much the same as any other leg, save for the piggy pink skin and black bovine blotches.
Both girls shivered as the merging flesh moved to their rib cage, pulling them continually closer together. The flesh of their breasts began to merge, the line of fusing skin pushing Chase's top up to her shoulder, a shoulder that no longer had an arm coming from it.
Chase stared at the single, basketball sized breast and wondered how far Jema and herself were going to fuse. She shuddered as she felt the feeling of inflation increase in her remaining breast, ballooning it up to match the size of the central one that combined the mass of two. She moaned softly as she felt her nipple grow, swell, elongate, and split, transforming to match the udder-like teats on the other two.
Jema seemed unresponsive, her eyes wide with horror, her half of their shared flesh quivering. Chase winced as there were several cracks and pops, Jema's right arm, which had seemed to detach from the blonde's shoulder and had the skin merge with that of Chase's belly moved, the bones of Chase's ribcage shifting to accommodate it.
Chase's rosy porcine skin grew over it, eliminating the bovine black and white. She found that she now had control of the limb. She looked over at Jema's half of their body, and saw that her left arm had similarly migrated.
Their joined form shuddered as the flesh of their left and right shoulder met, joining together without a seam. With the final touch of the fusion, the nervous systems of the two rivals seemed to have partially joined.
Chase could faintly feel Jema's half of their body, but she couldn't control any of it. Their shared, leg, however, seemed to be fair game. She pushed themselves up onto their feet.
"C'mon, Jema," she coxed, "Help me out here, carry your own weight. It's maybe a two minute walk to my place."
The words seemed to shake Jema out of her catatonia, "Huh? No! NO! We're not going to your place; we need to get to a hospital! We need to be separated!"
Chase turned and glared down her piggy snout at her bovine bodymate, "We are damned near naked, you're a cow, I'm a pig, and we're sharing half a body between us. I've NEVER heard of anything like this happening before, and believe me; it would be on the news if people got turned into weird part-animals all the time. We need to get out of sight and try to figure out what's happened to us. You don't want the whole town to see you with huge udder-breasts, do you?""
Jema shuddered and shook her head, "No, I guess not."
"Good, then help me walk. Don't protest, we're going to my place because yours is all the damn way across town and I do NOT see either of us to try and drive like this. So don't protest favoritism, just work with me here, alright?"
"Alright." Jema said with a nod, the two falling into a jerky rhythm, moving the central leg first, then moving the outer leg each controlled, each sucking in a breath as their large, uncomfortably sensitive breasts wobbled with each step.
-o-
As the conjoined pig and bovine girls stumbled their way home, a small, cloaked figure chuckled to herself in the bushes nearby. The two would perhaps learn to tolerate one another with the forced presence of their rival.
It mattered little if they did or did not. Either way Miss Romaine expected to get something out of the situation. After all, she doubted that there was another tailor nearby who would tackle the task of sewing clothes for the rather strange pair.
Truth be told, she looked forward to the challenge. |
New Found Formula III
Clyde raised her head and blinked a few times. Her tummy had been rumbling, demanding food for quite a while, and it seemed like she'd been eating for hours; just swallowing mouthfuls of alfalfa hay. She thought that was rather weird for a moment, but giggled as she recalled what had happened to her. Something strange and something wonderful. She stood back from the hay bale that had been placed in the corner and began to admire herself, a grin spreading across her face.
For what seemed like the first time in a long time her large, athletic body wasn't aching for sex, with everything possible seeming to leak and throb. Looking at herself now, there was hardly a trace of the man Clyde used to be. A few features in the face perhaps, and the particular color that remained in her long, sleek, salt and pepper hair. But Clyde's body was no longer that of a middle-aged man, but rather an Amazonian young woman with several decidedly bovine features. The shemale cowgirl ran her three-fingered hands over her toned, well-built, athletic body. Since she'd started feasting upon hay, she'd grown again. Her discarded overalls nearby looked absolutely tiny. If Clyde had to guess, she'd put herself at around the upper sevens or low eights in height.
She was absolutely huge, and very powerful. She felt like she could lift her tractor off the ground and play catch with it. Well, maybe not actually that strong, but she sure felt like it. It would be so useful, being like this. The huge cowgirl grinned and dug her fingers into the big bale of hay next to her. It took little effort to lift the half-finished roll off the ground. Clyde could lift the full ton bales easily, she was sure. It would be much easier than hauling them around using the tractor, he'd had a few tipping scares using it. Just picking it up and carrying it to where it needed to go would be so much easier.
She almost felt disappointed that the four heavy breasts upon her torso had not yet fully filled with milk again. Milking had been so much fun, and she was gleefully looking forward to her next session. She felt rather proud that she was helping to contribute to the milk industry, not merely as her farm's overseer, but also as one of the milk cows herself. The very thought of someone drinking her milk, not knowing the origin made her giggle some more.
Clyde let out a pleased sigh as she rubbed her somewhat rounded middle. She still likely had her innards floating in a tide of boosted bull spunk, and she probably had a stomach, or four, full of hay which added to the roundness. She rather liked the look of the rounded belly upon herself, and the shemale found herself wishing that she had the full feminine equipment down there. Though her big boobs made seeing below the waist a bit awkward, Clyde didn't need to see her lower body in order to get a sense of what had happened. Her knees bent in the other direction now, making it easier to walk upon her huge, broad hooves. She ran her hands over her broad hips and rump, concentrated on making her tail sway, then cupped her large balls and fondled her sheath.
If you'd told him a few days previous that Clyde would not only enjoy, but absolutely love being a big, busty, cattle-humping cowgirl, he'd have probably called the county health authority to come in and pick up a wandering loony. But having experienced the changes, felt the wonder of the powerful, beautiful body she now had, Clyde realized she wouldn't take her old body back for anything.
Her mind kept going back to the different formulas, and it was pretty likely that she'd been exposed to all of them now, though she'd only gotten secondhand exposure to the male and the milking enhancers. The milking one was supposed to be injected, after all, and she found herself contemplating tracking down the bottles and giving herself a full strength injection of the stuff.
Just as she was about to turn around and seek out the stuff, it seemed someone beat her to it, as she felt a tiny cold pinch upon her rump, shortly followed by a cute giggle. A pair of three-fingered hands was gripping Clyde's middle, hugging her to a larger body seemingly built like her own, covered with working muscle and sporting four large breasts.
"Mmm... been nappin' on the job, boss. Leavin' ol' Nellie to do the work of getting' the right stuff passed around to all the right people. Well, cows before, cow-people now. Or least they will be pretty soon," drawled a sexy voice in Clyde's bovine ear.
She spun around, eyes wide. She gasped in awe at the sight of the titanic woman that used to be her old milk cow. There was no doubt about it; the white and black blotches upon the woman's short, almost velvet-like fur were definitely Nellie's. It did make a bit of sense, after all if Clyde had ended up being part cow because of the formulas it stood to reckon that a cow taking them would end up becoming part human. But unlike Clyde, Nellie didn't seem to have gained much mass, aside from what the beefing up formula had done. It seemed instead that all her weight and mass had been shifted around to produce a huge cowgirl that weighed the same as she had as a cow. That made for a very, very big woman, and Clyde couldn't help but gawk. She hadn't a clue how big Nellie was, but it made her feel like a child, or at the very least a pint-sized little sister.
The transformed bovine grinned, spreading her arms and turning slowly in place, allowing Clyde to view her from every angle. She seemed to be very much like Clyde, scaled up, except for one major difference: Nellie not only sported four large breasts, she'd also kept the udder on her belly.
"Really lovin' the new me, boss. Though I do reckon that I'd like to tan the hide of whoever decided it was a good idea to leave the ol' milkbag right here and then decide to put in some new plumbin' underneath," she said, lifting up her udder.
Clyde hadn't really noticed it before, but a part of the seemingly gravity-defying positioning of the udder was due to the fact that it was getting quite a bit of support from the massive hard-on right beneath it.
"Get a little excited and then the blasted thing starts rubbin' ya when ya walk. Gets a gal all randy, riled up, and in the mood to just about jump some fella's bones. Just ask ol' Samson 'bout that. He stomped off in a huff earlier, lookin' to find someone smaller to pick on and prove his manhood," Nellie said, running her hand through Clyde's long hair.
"Though we ain't gonna hafta worry 'bout that anymore. Sam's gonna be one of the gals right soon. Probably going to be the biggest of the bunch, but I think once he learns how much fun it is to be a she, I think we'll be wavin' buh-bye to all those attitude problems. Right, boss?"
Clyde couldn't get her mouth to form words; all she could do was to stare in awe as her brain tried to process things. Her dairy herd was going from four-legged cows to sexy cowgirls. No wonder there'd been all sorts of construction on the Anders farm, and why there were the fences and guards to keep folks out.
"Now I'm hopin' yer not upset, but I went and gave you a bit of a boost to make sure that you'll be on par with the other gals here, boss. I've got a pretty good idea of how this all works, seems like there's somebody whisperin' in mah head and tellin' me what to do with what and in what amounts to get the right effect." She gave Clyde a playful shove onto the big pile of loose hay and flopped down next to her, one hand caressing the farmer's belly.
"Now for the most part you're not gonna get folks as big as folks that used to be cows. Requires some stuff we just don't got here, a bit of the ol' magic closer to the source rather than a few miles downstream like we ended up with. But with a little mixin' I made sure you'll be puttin' out as much milk as any of the other gals. Hope you don't mind, I jus' thought you wouldn't want to be left out."
Clyde found herself almost panting from the touch, blood had begun surging to her loins the moment she'd laid eyes on Nellie, but the girl-cow's caress had gotten her instantly turned on. She finally managed to find her tongue, "N-no, I don't mind."
"Good," Nellie said with a grin. "Been wantin' to return the favor from earlier."
"F-favor?" Clyde managed to stammer, a moment before it felt like someone took a handful of his guts and pulled them all into knots while tickling them all with feathers at the same time. The shemale cowgirl doubled over, unable to contain her giggles at the strangeness of the sensation. It felt like there was something swirling around in her middle, flesh flowing like clay, things being pushed around to make room for something brand new that was beginning to form within her. She managed to fix her gaze on Nellie, her eyes filled with an inquisitive longing, though she couldn't voice the words.
"Yup, you're gonna be one of the gals, boss, and that means you gotta have all the girly parts, not just the milky ones."
Clyde finally managed to unclench herself as the tight, fluid sensation of her growing womb transitioned into the familiar warmth and stretching of her previous transformations. She could feel her breasts filling with milk again at an incredibly rapid pace, muscles altering and skin shifting to accommodate walking around with the much larger milkbags that would be the envy of the girl-cows half again her size. She feared they would look silly on her, obscene. But somehow they seemed right on her, perfect. In a few moments Clyde couldn't imagine ever having anything else.
A pleasured groan came from Clyde as she began to caress her newly mightened mammaries, just as Nellie continued to stroke her belly and began to fondle behind the shemale's big balls. Clyde's back arched as she was a shemale no longer, but a full on hermaphrodite, sporting the very best of both worlds.
That leaking, aching, throbbing lust that had been finally vanquished earlier returned in full force; seemingly having grown all the more massive in its absence, especially now that Clyde sported an additional aspect to leak and throb. She cried out as Nellie's fingers brushed against her new netherlips.
"Ain't it just horrible? All your bits just achin', wantin' somebody to give 'em some tender lovin' care. Though 'least this time there ain't gonna be a species 'n language barrier ta get in the way." She grinned and pulled her hand away, drawing a lowing grunt of annoyance from Clyde.
Nellie giggled as she lifted up her former owner with one hand, positioning her just right to let gravity do all the work of getting all of her massive manhood inside Clyde. The former human threw her head back and cried out with delighted bliss as her body easily accepted something that should be all accounts break her in half. Her own manhood found itself sandwiched between Clyde's body and Nellie's udder.
The farmer let out another loud, long moan as she felt the same swelling that had boosted her breasts, but more than a bit lower. She felt her belly balloon outwards, forming into her own udder, small at first, but growing bigger and bigger with each passing moment.
Clyde's expanding milkbag pressed against her shaft, pressing her cock tighter and tighter. She couldn't help but buck and thrust, her huge spurts of pre providing far more than enough lubrication. Panting, she managed to hook her hooves behind Nellie's legs, pulling herself even tighter against her lover. The big girl-cow let out a cry of her own as the pressure upon her udder forced milk from her teats. Clyde hugged herself against Nellie; breasts, udder, and cock all rubbing against soft, smooth, slickened skin. The two hermie cowgirls pressed and ground against one another, unable to stop themselves even if they wanted to.
Clyde was the first to climax, her hot, gooey warmth just about absolutely coating the two from head to toe. But that paled in comparison to the tsunami of seed that surged into Clyde's newly formed womb. It felt like what she'd gone through with Samson, only ten time more, and ten times better.
Clyde had no idea how long she just laid there atop Nellie, clinging tightly to her lover as if afraid she'd drown in a sea of pleasure. It seemed like forever before the girl-cow coaxed her cock from Clyde's cunny.
"Mmm... better'n the last time you 'n me had fun, that's for sure," murmured the former cow.
"Golly, I bet I'm going to be sloshing around for days with alla this," muttered the former human, rolling off Nellie's bulk to lie in the hay beside her.
Nellie chucked and passed a familiar item to the farmer, "Ya went 'n left these here. I made sure to put 'em up out of the way before I put ya to bad last night."
Clyde looked down at the bundle; her straw hat, pipe, and tobacco pouch. She grinned and placed the hat on her head, it was far too small for her now and looked almost comical. The pipe was also small, but it would do for now. She nodded to the pouch and looked to Nellie, "Hope you don't mind, or would you prefer I go outside?"
The girl-cow giggled and shook her head. "Nope. 'Sides, that's a kind of human thang, ain't it? Havin' a smoke after hot, steamy sex?"
Clyde chuckled and nodded her agreement. "Gosh but are we a mess. I dunno if I could even fit in my front door, much less the shower."
"Oh don't worry about that. The cats'll clean it up." Nellie said, offhandedly.
"Cats?" Clyde asked with wide eyes.
"Apparently until the changes get settled, takes about two days, raw fluids seem to have a bit of an effect on anything a bit similar. So we've got the farm cats on their way up to bein' part of the herd. Itty bitty gals, no udders mind you, but a couple more boobies to 'em. Whispers in my head say it won't go any further than that," Nellie said.
"Kinda tickles a bit when they lick ya, 'course that might on occasion lead to more mess. But we won't have to worry 'bout that for awhile. No sense cleaning up a mess when yer just gonna get more."
Clyde sat bolt upright, having sucked in a bit too much smoke at the comment. "Wait, more mess?"
Nellie giggled and tousled her lover's hair. "Plenty more mess! After all, the whole herd wants tah properly thank ya!"
The farmer's eyes couldn't get any wider. "The WHOLE herd?"
"Yupper! Golly, just imagine how you're going to explain tah yer first calf who Daddy is."
No, it seemed they most certainly could.
"My first WHAT?" |
Close examination of the map patterns revealed that the most likely location for their quarry’s home was in one of the older neighborhoods on the outskirts of town, one that had fallen into disrepair thanks to its relative distance from anywhere of importance; no one wanted to commute for half an hour or more just to go grocery shopping, leading to a significant amount of its residents leaving en masse over the past few years, seeking not necessarily greener, but certainly more convenient pastures. A perfect location for a hideout, as far as the two of them were concerned, hence why they made sure to park their car a good couple of miles out and hike the rest of the way there.
Thankfully, no one on the road meant no one was there to ask why Spikes looked like he’d half-glitched out of reality, though even then it was still difficult for Tim to ignore it, especially now that they were so close to getting answers… or, at least, so they assumed. It was entirely possible that they’d leave that place with more questions than anything else, but they had to at least try; thus, they took their time walking around to where their destination was, just so they could sneak in through the back rather than approach it from the front. They didn’t know whether the place would have any cameras, nor if there were active countermeasures to intruders, but it was at least perfectly obvious that no one actually lived anywhere close to where the house was.
No cars, no pedestrians, hell, not even the sounds of habitation coming from behind the boarded-up windows and doors, creating an air of absolute desolation that left the two would-be home invaders feeling like they were about to be jumped the moment they let their guard down. With both of them having their fur standing on end, they made their way over to the cheetah’s house, carefully traversing a thicket of bushes and only getting cut up a couple of times. When they emerged onto the other side of the backyard fence, however, what they saw left them feeling… concerned. They were expecting to see the same kind of sorry sight on display in the right of the neighborhood: abandoned houses with everything closed and boarded up, looking like whoever used to live there barricaded themselves in and never left again.
Instead, what they saw was more akin to an already-ongoing home invasion: the backyard itself was completely covered in junk, mostly electrical in nature from what they could tell, leading up to a door left ajar and barely hanging off its hinges. The rest of the property itself followed suit, with most of it looking to be in a state of extreme disrepair: the fencing around it was old and decrepit, the wood soggy and chewed through, while the railing leading up to the front door was bent out of shape, its painting having peeled off seemingly decades prior from the amount of rust clearly visible. The sidewalk, from what little was visible, looked to have been struck by an earthquake from the amount of cracks on it, and the whole place just screamed of complete abandonment.
Of course, as Tim and Spikes realized when they looked at one another for a moment, this could very well be the point; if the place looked as abandoned as the rest of the neighborhood, it was at least inconspicuous and indistinguishable from the rest of the houses around it. Sure, maybe a few urban explorers would go in to try and see what they could find, but it’d be child’s play to put a proper lock on a trapdoor or something and use whatever was on the other side as a hideout of sorts. At least, that’s what the two of them would be the case; they’d be incredibly disappointed if they just drove over only to find the whole place deserted, having never been used by the mad scientist they were after.
Neither of them stepped forward, too concerned that they might be being watched to do anything; it took a few minutes before Tim scrounged up the courage needed to raise a particularly rotted section of the fence and then slip through, being careful enough not to make too much noise in the process; he was quickly followed by Spikes, who, not wanting to be left alone in the bushes, figured it might be best to chase his partner into at least relative safety.
Once in the backyard proper, the full extent of the garbage spill became evident… as well as its true nature. What had once looked to be nothing but random trash strewn about with no rhyme or reason quickly revealed itself to be anything but when the two of them realized that, rather than it being random trash, it was the exact same type of item, just with multiple different copies. Easy to miss at first, but when they began kneeling down to inspect what they were seeing, Spikes was the first to notice that they were looking at a collection of discarded hard drives; they weren’t of any one particular size, nor even model or manufacturing company, but they were all hard drives, and all of them shared one extra detail.
“They all have USB ports,” the Renamon blurted out, passing one of the discarded items from one hand to another, “did you notice?”
“What do you mean?” Tim called back, thoroughly lost in his lack of knowledge of even the most basic fundamentals of electronics.
“Look, over here” - Spikes took a step forward, pointing towards a port on the top of the piece of hardware he was holding - “it was fitted afterwards, I think, but it’s a USB port. And look, this one has it too” - the Rena knelt to grab the closest piece of electronic equipment to him, holding it out to show a similar port installed on its side - “these all look to be the same kind of port, but none of them were on the drives themselves. Whatever he’s doing to them, for some reason it involves installing a USB access port… though, why he’d throw them all out in the backyard is beyond me, some of these still look perfectly functional.” . “He didn’t exactly strike me as the most sensible of individuals, if you catch my drift,” Tim mused, chuckling afterwards, “maybe he just tries something, it doesn’t work, so he throws the hard drive away and starts over.”
“Maybe? But this seems incredibly wasteful… and most of these aren’t empty either. I can’t interface properly, but there’s definitely some corrupted data in here, so you might be onto something actually. You think he’s trying to code malware or something?”
“You’re asking me?” the lynx fired back, sounding thoroughly amused as he threw a hard drive over his head behind him, “I can barely work my way around Google sometimes, you expect me to know anything about hardware architecture?”
“I dunno, you have weird flashes of brilliance in between your prolonged moments of idiocy” - the Rena offered a quick chortle - “But no, maybe he just has a short fuse… and a large supply of hard drives, judging from how many of them he’s trashed so far. You think he’s raiding an electronics shop?”
“Out here? I’m surprised he even manages to find anyone with the kind of crap he needs to build… whatever it is he’s building, I don’t even know anymore. This place is a fucking dump and I think I can smell literal horseshit coming from somewhere close.”
“Be that as it may, I think we’re onto something; he’s definitely been here, this isn’t the sort of thing you just see thrown out in the trash like it’s nothing. And there’s something in these things, but I can’t tell… alright, we’re going in.”
“Wait wh-wait, where are you going?!”
Tim could only meekly reach out with his right arm, unable to stop the Rena as they marched straight through the back door, not even bothering to check for traps as they did so. The lynx, fearing the worst, ran straight through as well, fully expecting to walk into a crack den or something even more terrible… only to find the interior to be about as barren as the exterior would seem to imply. It was almost anti-climactic to see something that fit so well, that the book really could be judged by its cover; Spikes had to be careful not to step on glass shards strewn all about the floor, joining together with the mess of hard drives that seemed to have been peppered about as if cast away by a thunderstorm: all of them modified with the same USB port, inexplicably welded (or grafted, or whatever Tim didn’t know about) in seemingly random locations.
The air was thick, almost buzzing with the dread, cold silence permeating the entire building, the sort of nothingness that betrayed something’s presence just around the corner, waiting to jump them with a knife, or other cutting implement with an absurd edge coupled with far too much bluntness. Yet, none came; for all that the two intruders walked deeper into the seemingly abandoned abode, nothing struck at them, no creature was lurking in the shadows, and nothing out of the ordinary took place… at least, until they turned a corner into what they thought was a pantry. Being in the kitchen, it only made sense that the door next to the cupboards would lead to some sort of storage room, hence why Spikes didn’t think twice before opening it. Inside, however, was no spice rack, nor even the most basic of shelves; instead, what the two saw was a heavy, metallic door, embedded into the ground at a slight angle, not unlike what might be expected from the entrance to an underground storm shelter. In stark contrast to the rest of the house, it looked to be regularly cleaned and polished, with the numerical keypad off to one side having not even the slightest smudge on its keys or display panel.
“Yeah, think we found it,” the Rena mused aloud, sighing as he knelt by the keypad. It was simple enough for a creature like him: all he had to do was interface with the small device and, within moments, he had unlocked the correct sequence of button presses to open the door.
It did so slowly, loudly, and with enough grinding that it made both Tim and Spikes wonder just how old the damned thing was, or if that noise was part of some strangely archaic warning system. But, as nothing came to greet them, and no one popped their head out to shoo them away, the two figured they were safe to carry on, into the surprisingly well-lit depths below the house. Rather than an abandoned cellar, covered with cobwebs and barely illuminated, they found a well-kept flight of stairs with strips of LED lights running down one side towards what looked to be a rather modern and very well-equipped computer den. Spikes in particular couldn’t help but whistle when he saw the full setup, starring a grand total of four monitors attached to an absolute mess of wires that would make any cable management specialist weep tears of pure sulfur from how terrible the tangle was.
The whole place was lit by a deep blue light, giving it a feel that could charitably be described as a cross between a serial killer’s den and a cyberpunk basement rave, minus of course the strobe lights. The computer system itself was turned off, and with the power outlets seemingly covered with plaster, there wasn’t much the two of them could do to try and snoop on the cheetah’s files; instead, they had to make do with what they saw lying around, which was thankfully made much easier than it had any right to be on account of the mad scientist being fastidiously tidy and well-organized.
Quite unlike what the yard outside seemed to indicate, the interior of the computer den was about as clean and neat as could be, with nary a hint of dust to any surface, and whatever documents there were being filed away in what looked to be a personalized system. Finding anything in particular would take too long for two home invaders, and as such Tim and Spikes spread their attention around: the former would look through whatever binders and manilla folders looked particularly interesting, while the latter would search around the room for anything of interest.
“All I can see is code,” the lynx eventually spoke up, grumbling in frustration at his complete and utter inability to understand what the hell he was looking at, “at least I think it is. Lots of brackets and tabbed shit, I can’t read any of this.”
“It’s probably a backup in case the backups go poof,” Spikes replied, having to stop himself from laughing afterwards, “I’m guessing he prints out whatever he does to make sure he doesn’t lose it in a worst-case scenario.”
“Like what, losing power in an abandoned part of town?”
“Or a bunch of snoopy assholes crashing into his place and accidentally destroying the hard drives with the actual precious information.”
“Yeah right, accidentally.”
Both of them shared a quick chortle, and it was back to silent searching. Tim eventually gave up trying altogether, figuring that if nothing else, his attention was better served trying to find something he could actually understand. Along with Spikes, they gave the room several once-overs, finding absolutely nothing but more filing cabinets (and a mercifully stocked mini-fridge), at least until they stumbled onto what looked to be a plastic drafting table. Its surface was empty, or at least the two assumed; a chance bump against it revealed a lock on one of its sides, which, when opened, allowed the two to pull up the drawing panel to reveal what looked to be a small storage space directly underneath it… one actually filled with blueprints.
Neither of them knew what to make of what they saw when they started pulling out the various sheets of paper, mostly because of how familiar the design was. There, painstakingly reproduced by hand, was a wireframe drawing of something that was, without a doubt, a Renamon, and one whose body plan was disturbingly close to Spikes’. The blueprints themselves were stuffed with technical jargon that the glitched Rena couldn’t identify, speculating that it might be a personal cipher; the one exception was one word that adorned each and every iteration of the wireframe design, one that, judging from the way it was stylized, most likely meant a great deal to the cheetah, or at least enough that they figured they shouldn’t have to change it.
A title, perhaps, or a project name, though likely a placeholder given how early in production it seemed to be. And, perhaps quite fittingly, one written out in leet speak, because of course it was.
V1r4. |
Desolation: The Vanguard Chapter II: Delilah
The unnatural warmth flowed through Delilah's cybernetic body; spell-warped metal was painlessly burned away, replaced by their deimoplasmic equivalents. Retaining her massive strength and power, the cyborg felt herself becoming lighter, her body going from one of pure technology with a hint of magic, to one of pure magic. As long as you had the will to shape it, deimoplasm could be anything you wanted. It was nearly impossible to have a demon with flesh and bone like Delilah's, enchanted things didn't seem to translate over very well to the raw demon form. As difficult as it had been to create Delilah and the others, it would be many time more difficult in order to accomplish the same might upon a demon.
But it seemed child's play to take something that lived and convert its form into that of a demon. All the hard work was done; years of will had fixed the spiritual form of Delilah's body into the fabric of reality, and now the demonic energies simply worked upon the metallic muscle and bone. The angelic, pure white of Delilah's skin was soon no more. An angry red seeped through her veins, spreading outward until every inch of skin was the same deep crimson as her mech. The spirit of Lillith perched upon her bed, eagerly watching its pilot's transformation.
Delilah gasped, the effort so easy, only the slightest force needed to draw breath into her lungs. Her cybernetic body, made of heavy alloys and light yet durable mythril, had been a chore to speak with. It took concentration and effort to make herself breathe, and even more to maintain the even pace of respiration required for her to speak.
She felt alive again, like a living thing and not merely a machine. As more and more of herself was given over to the supposed dark and demonic forces that surged into her, she felt more and more human, less like a monster, less like the emotionless killing machine that she had narrowly avoided becoming.
Delilah's short metallic spinal extension, the cybernetic aspect that allowed her to control the Lillith's tail, but was something she considered to be too short to be called a proper tail had the problem quickly solved. It retained its gleaming metallic appearance, as well as its segmentation. It grew outward, the narrow, inch thick portion becoming the end of a long, thick, tapering, lizard-like tail, rather like the Lillith's own, but retaining the details that made it Delilah's.
She smiled and bent it experimentally, the new limb bending and flexing with ease, able to move in a variety of directions and positions. It was very sinuous, like a serpent. She ran her hands over it, delighting in the smooth, but warm and slick feeling of it. It looked like metal, but it was alive, living tissue with a metallic tint to it.
Her cybernetic aspects vanished, the cold, dead, empty spots within her now filled by energized, living deimoplasm. Though her additions had vanished, their effects had not. Everything carried over into her demonic form, her technological grafts becoming magical abilities.
The black markings upon her breasts and belly transformed, growing, altering in shape, being joined by additional symbols upon her skin; the markings of a true demoness, not merely the mortal property of another demon. The metal ports upon her back and neck remained, for she still needed to pilot her beloved Lillith into battle, to defend those around her. Even as a demon she would battle against her own kind in order to protect those less powerful than herself.
Delilah took a deep breath, releasing all the fear she had built up within her. She released the pure hatred for the creatures. Demons were not evil in and of themselves; they could behave in whatever manner they wished. It was only those who took advantage of the humans that could not adequately defend themselves who deserved to be cast out, to be destroyed.
She whispered a soft apology for her tribe's ignorance, of sending loved ones out into the night, young men, women, and even children who were banished for fear of corrupting the rest of the clan.
Maybe the world needed to be corrupted; maybe it would be best for all the humans to be converted into demons, to be better able to defend themselves. But it should not be forced upon anyone, nor should anyone be under the thrall of another, like with the Stephanite Hivemind, a relative handful of consciousnesses directing the actions of thousands, overwhelming free will, imprinting upon them the mentality of their controllers.
A series of soft pops and cracks came from her back as the skin upon her shoulder blades painlessly parted. Spidery, metallic limbs grew forth from the openings, glistening and dripping with ling strands of softly glowing and translucent orange raw deimoplasm. The sharp, pointed legs seemed to keep coming and coming, a second branch, then a third, and a fourth. Delilah grinned as she recognized her deimomech's skeletal wing design. She ran a finger over them, made of the same metallic armor-plating as her tail, she could feel the pent up power within them, several soul gems glowing within each strut of the wings, one in each knuckle-like joint.
Delilah knew what they were; recognition of her kills. If a demon of power slew another demon, it could take its soulstone for itself, granting its corporeal body even greater power at the expense of a rival. But even without soulstone harvesting, a murderous demon would grow powerful over time, the act of killing a demon made its soul radiate energy, lose power, that power seeping into their killer.
Delilah should have known this, should have recognized it, should have seen that this was why all demon hunters would eventually become corrupted, transforming into what they hunted. Once there was enough power to overwhelm the will, when the demonic soul-shrapnel was finally enough to overwhelm the hunter's soul...It was so easy to see now, such a simple thing that she knew to be true upon an instinctual level. So much could easily be learned in conversing with demons who had been mortals. The concepts that Delilah knew deep down to be true seemed incredibly simplistic, pathetically easy to grasp, and yet the Vanguard had told her none of the truths she knew to be self-evident. In their fear and ignorance they had cast aside the very individuals who could have potentially been their greatest hope, their greatest sources of information against the forces of darkness and corruption.
Demonic corruption was not always something born from malice, but at times merely discomfort. For many demons, having lived their lives in an elemental plane where the physical and the spiritual were one and the same, where will and strength were one, the mortal world was a strange and forbidding place to them. They sought to convert out of fear as well, out of discomfort and misunderstanding for the material world.
Delilah moaned softly as the deimoplasmic bones within her legs changed shape, her tibia and fibula shortening, while the tarsals of her feet lengthened. She could feel other bones in her body shifting subtly, to allow for potential motion upon all fours, so that she could experience the thrill and speed she felt while piloting Lillith, but without having to link up to the great creature.
Her toes fused, merging easily together like droplets of mercury, creating three large toes, each tipped with a small metallic claw. As Delilah watched with delight her claws began to grow, more dangerous and lethal, and more able to dig into the ground and increase her speed as she ran, also adding traction to both her bipedal and quadrupedal gait.
Even though her cybernetic frame had been capable of incredible speeds, she had always found running rather problematic. She had little control over her accelerated form, no way to turn or increase drag easily, no way to dig into the ground and propel herself forward with her blunt human toes.
Her fingers remained unaltered in number, but her nails quickly turned metallic as well, her red demonic skin flowing over them, leaving only small, vertical slits for which to extend her new, cat-like claws.
The warmth began to leave her, flowing away from her extremities, to her core, and then up to her head, where her soul gem currently resided. The new demoness felt the skin upon her temple part, a small pair of metallic horns protruding from them, marking her full ascension into demonhood.
The warmth faded to a tiny pinprick as she mentally commanded the gem downward through her body, nestling it between the shoulder blades, sinking it into the harder than diamond bone several inches thick that provided the anchoring points for her wings.
An electric thrill went through her body as the soulgems within her wings activated, forming a translucent membrane between them. It was thicker than the monomolecular field that the Lillith sported, but Delilah could narrow it to that margin if she desired.
She wrapped her arms around Lillith's spectral form, as solid to her as flesh. Her now elongated forked tongue slipped into the creature's central muzzle, curling around the beast's similar tongue.
Lillith inhaled deeply, seeming to draw out something from within Delilah, a hefty weight and burden that she no longer needed to carry. Moment by moment she felt her belly and breasts lighten, no longer carrying their burden of comparatively dense computer processing gel.
The deimomech had drawn the components needed for its operation from its pilot and into itself. Lillith was no longer just a machine; it was capable for full independent function. But Delilah knew that it was perfectly content to let its true body lie slumbering, in order to remain at her side in invisible, nearly intangible miniature. No one would see her companion following her; no one would be able to feel it. Oh certainly, the more magically inclined could sense a powerful presence of sorcery around her, but no more than usual.
Delilah broke the kiss, suddenly realizing that her energy signature would have changed, as well as her obviously demonic form. They would notice immediately! She had to sneak out, had to leave had to...
Delilah smiled. She had to stop worrying. She was a demon after all, capable of the impossible. It was merely a matter of will, and if she had gained some of the abilities of the demon that had triggered her turn, she would be perfectly fine.
She closed her eyes and let out a long, slow breath. She drew in her wings and tail, her horns retracting into her skull, her feet becoming flat upon the floor again, the beautiful, vibrant sanguine color of her skin fading back to the deceptive, innocent pure white that it had been before.
Though Lillith could not effectively use some of its abilities due to its bestial form and nature, it had imparted upon Delilah the very same powers, those of the seductive succubus. She could change her shape; cloak herself to all the senses of those around her. She could even project an astral version of herself, using sheer mental force to construct a second deimoplasmic body for herself, far more fragile and far more easily destroyed than her own, but much harder to detect.
Delilah shifted back to her true form, the winged half-beast that she now regarded as her true self, the creature that she had always been meant to be. All her trials and tribulations had been meant to create the wonderful, powerful creature she had become. If her fellow Vanguard knew of her transformation, they would try to destroy her. Try and fail miserably.
But Delilah had no interest in harming her comrades. She was a succubus now, she could easily invade the dreams of those upon the base, seduce them, corrupt them, transform them into demons as well. But she wouldn't do that. She would not forcibly transform anyone.
Lillith nuzzled gently at Delilah's rounded middle, sending waves of erotic pleasure through the new demoness. She moaned softly, glowing, fiery-colored deimoplasm serving as lubrication for her gently throbbing sex glistening between her legs. A similar fluid beaded upon the tips of her pitch black nipples.
Delilah looked down at the familiar expanse of swollen, rounded flesh upon her midsection; despite the computer cores being siphoned from her. The weight and mass within had transformed along with Delilah.
She looked at the astral demon with wide eyes, filled with happy tears, "Eggs." She whispered softly, "Demon eggs. I... I'm going to be a mommy."
She lifted Lillith into the air, wrapping her arms around the demon's broad chest, her tail snaking around the beast's own, "Oh thank you!" she said softly, trying to keep herself from letting out loud sobs of wonder and gratitude, "Thank you!"
The two lay upon the bed for quite some time, cuddling and caressing one another, Delilah petting and stroking the beast, Lillith nuzzling and licking the succubus with its many tongues.
The demoness suddenly opened her eyes, a smile spreading across her face, "I need to give this gift to the other pilots and mechs." She said to Lillith, "They need to feel this, they'll want this. I know it. If they feel anything like I do when I'm inside you, oh... mmm..." Delilah moaned softly, pressing her pregnant belly against the beast, contact with the creature's skin sending blissful bolts of pleasure through Delilah's demonic form.
The eggs within her seemed to grow warmer, wriggling just a little bit. Demon eggs were not the same as the eggs of mortal creatures. They were pockets of magical potential, perhaps to create a new life, with the right application of power they were a way to draw in a demon to the mortal world, but overall their purpose was to bring new demons into the world.
"You wouldn't mind, would you?" Delilah asked, "Using our first clutch of eggs to bring the others into the fold?"
Lillith let out a trio of sounds halfway between a purr and a chuckle, of course it didn't mind. One way or another, they would serve their purpose.
The three-headed dragoncat chuffed softly and nosed Delilah towards the door, hopping up onto the bed and curling up.
The demoness smiled and cloaked herself in her disguise once more, conjuring some clothes out of the ether to make her somewhat decent.
"Sleep well, my love." She purred, "When you awaken in the morning you will be sire to a half dozen succubus-cyborg pilots." Delilah said with a chuckle, slipping out into the hall. |
The bar had never been the same since Anabelle started working there, and while the initial warm-up period was certainly a challenging adaptation for the regular clientele, they grew to love the newest waitress just as much as she herself grew to love the job… and just grew in general.
The cowgirl hadn’t exactly been small when she first showed up to answer to the ad, enough so that her prospective employer had legitimate fears that Anabelle’s rather unique proportions would be too much of a radical shift for most of their customers; the vast majority of people weren’t used to having someone bursting from their uniform serving them coffee in the morning, but the cowgal’s sunny disposition and delightfully polite demeanour led to the bar’s owner deciding to take the chance. He wouldn’t regret it, though he would have preferred it if his employee had told him she occasionally went through “tiny lil’ spurts”, as she put it, so “tiny” that the uniform she now had to use was not only her third one, but it was barely a uniform at all, being little more than a bra and a pair of panties that left pretty much nothing to the imagination.
Still, she was technically clothed and that’s what mattered; plus it attracted more customers and led to an upsurge in sales, so it’s not as if he could complain. It was a hell of a sight, seeing Anabelle leave the back room with a tray full of drinks, her body bouncing and jiggling almost aggressively as she deliberately sashayed in such a way as to draw attention to her immense, plush rear, or the pair of overstuffed milkers attached to her chest. That her “curse” had become public knowledge only helped to accentuate the allure; there were plenty of folk who came to the bar purely on the off-chance that they might be lucky enough to catch Anabelle undergoing a growth spurt, folk who paid a great deal of money to be allowed to stay in there, even if they barely touched their drinks.
It was a win-win scenario all around, which was precisely why the bar’s owner didn’t mind it too much that the cowgirl openly flirted with the customers whenever she felt like being especially provocative; just as long as nothing too indecent happened, the man couldn’t care less. As a result, Annabelle steadily grew more confident in her time working there, confident enough that, past a certain point, having to wear nothing more than lingerie struck her as less of a hassle and far more of an opportunity; she quite enjoyed having people look at her curves with the sort of expression that made it patently obvious just how hard they were thirsting after her, rather than shunning her for her lack of control over her own size. It made her feel wanted, in a way, accepted in a manner that she hadn’t been up to until then… which just fed into the cycle and pushed her closer and closer to her next growth spurt with each passing day.
This wasn’t helped at all by Abigail’s presence either; the two of them had met some time prior, just after Annabelle first moved into the city, while the cowgirl was out shopping for clothes that actually fit her. Abby might not have shared her size curse, nor understand what it was like to have no control over one’s proportions, but given their own dimensions, they were more than familiar with the challenges that came with being too large to fit into most spaces. It was through this one commonality that the two of them began chatting, eventually leaving the clothes shop for a nearby café and ending up spending most of the afternoon exchanging past experiences; they quickly became fast friends… and perhaps a bit more.
It didn’t take more than a couple of months before the two of them moved in together, into an apartment that was at once too cramped to deal with a couple of hypers of their size and level of activity, and yet just big enough that they frequently bumped into one another while still getting things done, entirely by accident of course, making their daily routine one where they had to constantly fight back against their more base desires, unless they wanted to make a mess of things.
One way they found to externalize all that extra energy was by having Abby visit Annabelle at work; just as long as the former bought something to justify taking up a couple of chairs, no one was going to complain, especially not when the two began to openly fondle one another whenever they forgot where they were, and all onlookers were quick to turn their eyes to the sight, hoping perhaps that time would be “the one”. And with each day that passed, the couple’s affection was only ever expressed more brazenly and openly; it used to be that the furthest they’d go would be exchanging a smooch or two, maybe slapping one another’s ass if they thought that no one was looking, but after a certain point, things started to get… out of control.
Soon enough they were grabbing handfuls of one another, sinking their hands into each other’s tits or just outright pushing their busts together or using them as boobhats; from there it was a simple jaunt to having Annabelle unashamedly grind against Abbigail’s nethers, hoping to get the latter’s cock to full mast so that everyone could see, while Abby herself went as far as to milk the cowgirl, knowing as they did that it had a non-zero chance of triggering an uncontrollable growth spurt from raw pleasure alone. And each time, they both looked at the bar’s manager, or whoever happened to be on call, and each time they received, at best, an apathetic nod; since no one was going to stop them, the two gals thus resolved to just… keep pushing the line.
It was therefore unsurprising that, eventually, things would go too far, at least in the sense that a point of no return was reached and gleefully flown over. It started as any other night, albeit one where Abbigail had decided to accompany Annabelle to work rather than meeting up later; Abby had just started her vacation days, giving her plenty of time to enjoy herself with her better half, and it wasn’t going to be a workplace that stopped her. That night, the two gals went further than they ever had before, enough so that several customers outright asked the rest of the staff if there was some kind of special event going on, a few even going so far as to drop tips so that the show could go on.
An initially slow influx of customers gave Annabelle all the excuses she needed to offload most of the work to the other waitresses while she focused on the “entertainment”, and by the time more clientele poured through the front doors, she and Abby had already taken over a large couch on the side of the dance floor, not so much flirting or fondling one another as they were outright engaging in foreplay, the kind of which would be normally reserved for when they were in the privacy of their own home. The cowgirl wasn’t yet riding on her lover’s cock, but she was certainly moving in the exact same manner already, with Abby taking the opportunity to sink both of her hands on Annabelle’s tits while stuffing her face into their cleavage, slowly grinding her hips as her shorts were progressively torn apart by her rising mast; had anyone asked, both women would’ve sworn up and down that they would never do anything like this in public, not even when they caught one another’s eye and the thought obviously crossed through their minds. But, after such a long time deliberately toeing the line and seeing how far they could go beyond it without being reprimanded, it almost felt natural to treat the bar like a second home; thus, naturally, like a place where they could happily throw themselves into the same kind of private activities that they normally would at their actual domicile.
No thoughts were spared for the literal dozens of people watching them, nor for the cowgirl’s job safety; not even Annabelle herself was thinking about how she was most likely going to get fired for fucking her girlfriend on the job, being too busy wondering how much cock she could take before climaxing. Similarly, Abby wasn’t at all worried about the fact that the two of them were headed straight to an arrest and public indecency charges; all she wanted was to keep stuffing her face into marshmallow and have her hands knead and press against her better half’s tits. Past a certain point, the nargacuga resorted to outright milking those things, knowing for certain that it would trigger a growth spurt; it had been a while since last Annabelle went up a few sizes, and judging from the amount of times that the cowgirl woke up in the morning and immediately ran to the bathroom in order to empty her udders out, she was due for another one soon enough.
Abby knew this, though how she did was a mystery; it felt more like an instinctual understanding than anything, but it was strong enough that she knew not to stop… though to be fair, having Annabelle moaning that loudly next to her whenever she tugged on a nipple or squished one of their tits certainly helped. The couple’s motions grew in intensity, with the cow’s grinding picking up in speed and momentum at about the same rate as the cock they were servicing thickened and approached its full turgid size, tearing through Abby’s clothes as if they were made of wet tissue paper; this was deliberate, as Abbigail deliberately picked soft and fragile fabrics, just so she could have the pleasure of watching, feeling and hearing as her shaft went right through her jeans and lodged itself between her lover’s cheeks, prompting Annabelle to let out a long, throaty moan that turned into a moo halfway through.
She so clearly wanted that thing inside her, but knew better than to rush it; best to let her lover decide when the moment came, as Abby had a near-supernatural sense for when to move to the next step, one that bordered on the unreasonably accurate. Besides, the nargacuga was obviously having plenty of fun already playing with her tits, and Annabelle herself couldn’t complain about the workout, as it was the perfect excuse to let go, to stop holding back and let her body do what it was supposed to; after weeks of suppressing her curse out of fear that it might just leave her too big for her clothes (again), it felt as if this was the right time for the growth to take place. Normally she’d pick a more adequate environment, preferably one where she wouldn’t be surrounded by strangers ogling her and her better half’s bodies, but with her mind being in the state that it was, the cowgirl couldn’t really bring herself to think about anything other than how good it would feel to just let her tits swell into a permanently more engorged state… so she let them.
It was that easy, really, so easy that she barely noticed when it started; it was only after the weight of self-denial was lifted from her shoulders that the cowgirl relaxed enough to look down at her own bust, only to watch as it bulged outwards, inch after inch, blazing through cup sizes like it was nothing while simultaneously burying Abby’s face in their new mass. Her tits had already been big enough to cover most of her chest, but now? Now the cowgirl figured that, when she got up, those mounds would most likely end up completely obscuring her upper body and a significant chunk of her thighs, not to mention the obscene amount of backboob they most certainly could provide… or their sweet, deliciously creamy contents, the sloshing of which made it clear they were still starting; there was no telling how colossal Annabelle would end up becoming if she allowed her tits to fill up, though the mental image was certainly enough to get Abbigail going.
How could she not, when a pair of tits that used to “merely” be just bigger than her head suddenly exploded with size until she was left smothered by Annabelle’s warmth? It’d be worrying if her own cock didn’t surge with additional mass as well, even though it had never done so before; it felt right, and thus Abby didn’t even think twice before slamming her hands against her lover’s ass, raising it just enough to angle her cock at the correct angle, and then slamming that rump straight onto her rod. The sound that came out of Annabelle’s mouth could more accurately be described as a scream more than anything else, yet it carried with it no notes of pain; rather, it was a woman desperate for something being given that something, yet one who seriously underestimated how much she truly wanted it. It was a scream that became a demand, one without words: one for more.
Abbigail understood this better than anyone, hence why she wasted no time in starting her work; while it would’ve been nice if the cowgirl lived up to her species’ name and did some of the bouncing themselves, it was understandable that they were still reeling from their last growth spurt. Abby didn’t mind; if anything, it let her set the pace, let her feel as her own shaft gained mass from seemingly nowhere as well. Maybe it was Annabelle’s presence, or perhaps the nargacuga had always been a grower and just never knew it; whatever the case, it didn’t take a genius to know that she could exploit this, especially considering that the cowgirl still wasn’t done. After all, their growth spurts didn’t only affect her tits; Annabelle hadn’t always had an ass wide enough to get stuck in doors, and with each rolling of the hips, Abbigail was determined to turn that dumptruck of a rear into something even more immense.
She wouldn’t rest until her lover had a butt big enough to smother couches if need be, if only because it would only make the next growth spurt even more ridiculous; lacking any other option, and without the ability to really go anywhere now that she was pinned down underneath the cow, Abby thus decided that she was going to give her better half the biggest cream filling of their entire life. She was going to have the cowgirl ride her cock until it was dry, every drop of cum squeezed out of her turned into plump, delicious rump. She was going to leave Annabelle so bottom-heavy that it would trigger a vicious cycle where they’d want her tits to grow to compensate, only to then need to add more to their ass to balance it out.
And as the first spurts of pre began to flow, and Abby could feel the cheeks she was grabbing begin to tighten and swell outwards, she knew she was on the right path.
Time for that night’s show. |
New Job Application “Hi! Welcome to Udders Café, what can I get for moo?”
“Hi, yes, I’d like a job application, please.”
“Sure thing! Are you ready for the fast-paced world of Udders Café?”
“I think so.”
“Great, let’s get you started. Follow me to the back room, we’ve got to get you to fill out an application. Cindy! Take over the register!”
“Um, so, do I just fill it out, and that’s it?”
“Sure, let me help you, it’s not hard. So, what’s your name?”
“Dhena.”
“Oh, what a pretty name! What does it mean?”
“Milk cow.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, my parents were devout Hindus, they thought a sacred name would help me in my life.”
“That’s neat. Well, it will definitely help fit in around here!”
“I suppose.”
“It will, I promise. So, first thing’s first, you’re eighteen, right?”
“Nineteen, actually, my birthday was last week.”
“Excellent! Here, let’s see, looks like this is your first job, no sweat, we’ll get you up to speed fast. You’re going to love it here!”
“I hope so.”
“Oh, I know you will! Here, just sign here. And here. That’s right, one more release, that’s good.”
“So, um, what are all the releases for?” “Why your change of course!”
“Change?”
“You mean you don’t know? Oh Dhena, you’re in for a treat! You’re going to get your very own udder!”
“My own udder? I thought those were just like, props or part of the uniform!”
“Oh, no, they’re very real. Here touch mine.”
“Oh my god, it’s soft, and, um, warm.”
“Yep, and it feels great too. Don’t you worry, yours should be coming in any moment now that you’re officially hired.”
“I am?”
“Yep! I’m the manager, I get to hire anyone I want, and I think you’ll be great!”
“Oh wow, I feel, um, weird.”
“It’s okay, let it come.”
“Uh, it’s… like pressing on my stomach.”
“Easy. You’d better undo that button though if you don’t want to ruin those pants. Don’t worry, I’ve got some extra udder suitable shorts here. You’ll need them for your uniform tomorrow anyway. Hmm, I’m thinking you’re a size six.”
“Uh, yeah usually. Wait, what’s that? There’s like bumps on my stomach. Oh my god, it’s really happening!”
“Uh-huh. Hmm, there’s got to be a right size for you in here somewhere.”
“Nggggh. Mmmh. Uh. Ohhhhh. Ahhhh.”
“Let it out girl, it’s okay, everyone enjoys that first teat popping time.”
“Ohhhh. My god, it’s still growing. Uhn. Mhm.”
“Sure is, here, drink this.”
“Ah, what is it?” “Just some water to help your body stay hydrated.”
“Oh, ahhhhh, um, why?”
“Because dahlin’, you’re about be making a whole lot of milk from the looks of those fabulous teats.”
“I’m going to be, oooh, milked?”
“Don’t act so surprised. What do you think an udder is for?”
“Um, I never expected to have an udder. Wow, it’s so heavy. And so, mhmmm, soft.”
“Yep, I promise it’ll make your life better that you ever realized. Don’t worry, the rest of the uniform will be along in a moment.”
“Rest of the uniform?”
“You know, you can’t be a proper cow without ears and a tail. These aren’t for show you know. Oh, and it looks like you’re going to get a nice little set of horns too! How absolutely adorable!”
“Um, I feel kind of woozy.”
“That’s okay, it’s normal the first day. Don’t worry, your only job today is to be milked. Come here so I can get you hooked up to the milker before you start to get too sore. That’ll give your ears time to come in.”
“I’m a cow.”
“That’s right, now moo for me dahlin’, you’ve got a lot of milk to give today for tomorrow’s work.”
“Mooooooo.”
“Good girl, now let me just get these pumps attached. Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy this.”
“Oh… my… gawd... uhhhh… oooh… OHHHH!”
“There we go. You get settled, and I’ll be back in an hour. Welcome to the team Dhena.”
“Mooooooo!” |
Victim of the Molbol Virus
Tears leaked from Donna's eyes as she lay in the fetal position in a pile of wet leaves. Her body hurt, her guts felt like they were churning inside of her. She hugged herself tighter and whimpered. She was supposed to be protected from poisons, heck; she was supposed to be protected from practically anything that could be thrown at her.
She had borrowed a holy relic from her school; it was supposed to protect her from all the terrible effects that could befall someone who got a good blast of Malboro pollen. That was what she had come out into the deep, dark, dank, Fenmoore Swamp to study, and quite possibly learn how to duplicate the magical effect,
Donna was a disciple of what was called 'Blue Magic,' learning the magical techniques of monsters; monsters that lived in high magic areas and had natural abilities that stemmed from the unusual amount of elemental energy.
The Blue Mage shuddered, her armor making squelching noises as it shifted around her slime-covered body. It was disgusting, the goop seemed to be oozing out of every pore. Donna could swear she felt it leaking from other places as well; she had trouble swallowing, and her saliva felt thick and heavy. She knew she was drooling the slime as well as sweating it.
There was too much inside her armor and bodysuit to merely be sweat, it had to be dripping from other places as well. Donna didn't even want to think about where it was coming from.
Donna reached up and gripped the sacred ribbon that she had tied her braid with. "Stupid thing." She said, "What good are you?"
Or at least that's what she tried to say, it came out merely as muffled sounds and wet, slurping noises. She tossed the ribbon away; it was useless and hadn't offered the slightest protection against the contagion that ravaged her body. This wasn't anything she'd read in the books on the creatures she'd come to study and learn from.
But then again the Malboro were supposed to be green, not the reddish-purple of the one that had done this to her. It had spit a ball of purple goo at Donna, taken her by surprise. It was stealthier than the run of the mill Malboro. She hadn't seen the creature until it was right behind her. Quite a feat considering its bright color and size compared to the others.
Donna had fled immediately; she wasn't prepared to go one on one with a creature with a mouth big enough to swallow her whole. The thought made her shiver again, this time with a strange pleasure as she thought of the creature that had done this to her. The cramping and pain had begun to fade, leaving a strange heat in her body.
She thought of the Malboro's mouth, how warm it would be, how smooth and delightfully slimy it would be inside. Donna recognized the strangeness of the thought, but was powerless to stop the wave of pleasure that crashed over her as she imagined herself crawling into the beast's maw, curling up on that huge, soft tongue.
It was likely some sort of new mind-affecting pollen that helped the plant-creature hunt, making its prey willing crawl right down its throat. Oddly that thought didn't reward Donna with the physical bliss that the idea of slipping into the creature's mouth did.
The Blue Mage moaned, extending her tongue out of her mouth, one hand going to her groin and the other to her breast. She could caress her sex through the fabric of her bodysuit, but her plated armor made it impossible to tease her breast.
Her body felt electric, alive and wonderfully eager to be touched. She licked her lips and nearly fainted at the sensation. Her lips and tongue both had become infinitely more sensitive. She moved her hand from its futile groping at her breast, placing two fingers in her mouth, sucking on them, licking them, rubbing her tongue with them.
Tears continued to leak from her eyes, though they were now of pleasure rather than pain. She felt a luxurious sensation in her muscles, like a wonderful stretch combined with the greatest massage ever. Her armor began to feel constricting, too tight. Forgetting about her pleasure, Donna fumbled with the straps holding the armored plate on.
Her fingertips felt strange, clumsy, unable to properly grasp the buckles through her gauntlets. She pulled them off and tossed them away, paying no mind to her fingertips' appearance. They were strangely swollen, rounded, and her nails had vanished. The Blue Mage managed to get a few straps undone before discomfort made her stop. It felt unpleasant to put pressure on her fingertips.
A sizzling sound from her chest drew Donna's attention, and she looked downward to find a portion of her armor and her bodysuit melting away. The thick slime that leaked from her mouth seemed to be terribly acidic, but strangely it did no harm to her own flesh.
Donna spit a stream of slime down onto the confining metal, softening it to the consistency of butter and allowing her to gingerly pull it away. She cupped her hands and filled them with slime as well, allowing her to rub it over herself, burning away the rest of her clothing.
The afternoon sun felt so good on her skin; her reddish-purple skin. Donna looked over her body, watching as the beautiful color spread over her flesh. Now that she was freed from her confining clothes, she was no longer leaking slick slime from every pore of her body; her smooth, muscular body.
Now freed from the prison of her clothes, Donna could concentrate on what mattered, the sweet, sweet pleasure her transforming flesh was giving her. She lay back on the slime-matted pile of leaves where not long before she had been curled up in agony. Now that she was free of that cursed ribbon, allowing the absolutely divine effects of the Malboro's free reign to do what it liked, Donna had never felt better.
Her sex and nipples still leaked slime. The Blue Mage's breasts were larger, rounder, heavier, and not just because Donna was growing. While she was increasing in size and build, her breasts were also growing larger in proportion to her body. She began to caress them, teasing her slime-spewing nipples. They were deliciously sensitive, and they throbbed softly, longing for a deeper touch.
Donna slid two fingers into each; they seemed more designed for putting things into, then taking them out of. In a short time the transforming human felt a sucking sensation on her fingers, shortly followed by the sensation of something curling around them. She felt conical teeth gently prick at her fingers. Her nipples had transformed into mouths.
The mage giggled, her tongue lolling out of her original mouth, longer and thicker. It was nearly eighteen inches long, and several inches wide. It was also oh so dexterous and flexible. She pulled her fingers from one nipple-mouth, replacing it with her tongue. The rounded buds on the ends of her fingers opened, revealing red orbs. Eyes. Malboro eyes.
The new Malboro smiled her mouth wider than before. She looked herself over with her new eyes, watching as her old eyes faded, her ears and nose shrinking, merging with her head, giving her a smooth, featureless look.
Her hair began to writhe on its own, the strands merging, turning a more brownish shade of red. They grew, extending outward, becoming dexterous, inquisitive tentacles. Some were tipped with more eyes, some without.
Donna caressed her increasingly plant-like form with her agile and flexible vines, stroking her breasts, her lips, her bare skin. Several tendrils slithered into her sex and rump, making her nipple-mouths squeak softly with pleasured delight. She hugged herself with arms and vines alike.
She no longer had eyes able of producing tears, but they leaked slippery slime, as did every opening her body had. She was so lucky to experience this; so wonderfully lucky to be given a gift by one of the grandest members of her new race. She was so grateful for being allowed to experience the incredible sensation of the change, and to be able to live out her life with such sweet pleasure suffusing so much of it.
The new Malboro got to her feet, her legs popping and shifting. Donna watched them transform from all angles, growing more muscular, her leg shortening below the knee, lengthening between toe and ankle, allowing her to gain a gait more suited to a predatory creature.
She took a few steps to test out her new paws, gasping in delight at the sensitivity of the soft, but tough, pads that adorned the bottoms of her feet. Hard, sharp, thorn-like claws dug into the soil as she began to run, letting the air rush over her bare skin, her tentacles and tendrils billowing in the wind of her passage.
It was difficult to see, but Donna had a sense beyond sight. She could feel the environment around her, able to sense where things were by the air flow, the elemental energies they put off, and the scents in the air. Oh the delicious scents in the air.
She smelled the many flowers, fruits, and leaves of her non-ambulatory plant kin, she could smell the insects in the air, the small, tasty mammals hiding in their burrows and darting in the trees, the soft and delicious birds in the air and in their nests, but most of all what drew her attention was the scent of her creator's pollen in the air.
Donna ran through the forest, tearing through vegetation that stood in her way, leaping over it, clawing through it, tearing it apart with her many vines. Within a few minutes she made her way to the small grove of trees where she had hidden, lying in wait for a Malboro so she could learn their special technique.
The red-orange Malboro that had coated her with purple goo was right where Donna had last seen him. He simply stood there, turned towards the exact direction that Donna approached in. He smiled at her as she approached.
Donna clung to his trunk, whimpering softly. She could never do enough to pay her master back for the great gift he had given her. "Thank you." She whispered from her three mouths, able to shape the words, but no longer having the vocal chords to grant her true speech.
He curled a few of his locomotion tentacles around her, stroking her with a few more, returning her affection. The Grand Malboro tugged his new subject away from him, gently repositioning her in front of his mouth.
His tongue, massive and purple, curled around Donna's waist, pulling the former human into the plant-creature's great maw. Donna felt no fear as she was drawn inside, not even as the creature's jaws closed, sealing her in behind many sharp teeth.
It was warm, wet, and wonderfully slimy. As a human Donna would likely have thrown up from the scent of the toxins, bacteria, and rotting things that festered inside the Malboro's mouth, but as one of them Donna found that it only added to her pleasure and comfort.
She hugged her master's tongue, stroking it with her vines, pressing her body against it, licking it with all three tongues. Donna couldn't have been happier. She loosened her grip as her warm, wet resting place filled with a few inches worth of thick, purple goo. She recognized the substance that had transformed her. And now, without the ribbon to halt its effects, it could complete her transformation.
Her body drank it in, slurping it up through three mouths and absorbed through every pore. Donna began to grow again, passing seven feet in height, then eight, then nine, up to an even dozen, which was when her master's mouth began to feel a little cramped. Cramped, but still cozy.
Donna curled up into a ball to make herself a more comfortable burden to carry. The Grand Malboro shifted her around a bit with his tongue, lining her up just right so that he could lap at Donna's sex.
The ex-human moaned softly with pleasure. The thick, tough hide that replaced her thin human skin reddened on her cheeks and breasts in a blush. She felt so honored that her master would pleasure her like this.
All the rubbing, caressing, and fondling of her own body had felt so wonderful, but Donna had yet to bring herself to full climax. She did not dare taint the experience by adding to her own pleasure herself. She would be brought to her first peak of pleasure by the caress of her master alone.
The tongue penetrated her, its slightly textured surface feeling like soft velvet caressing her inner walls and her clitty. Both blossomed with sweet pleasure at the plant-creature's ministrations.
Donna pressed herself hard against the tongue, thrusting and bucking, her pleasure made all the greater for it. She found the pleasure from the little button outside her body quickly outpacing the pleasure from the tunnel hidden within it. She felt the pleasure grow long, fat, and heavy. She felt it bulge and swell until Donna thought she would explode.
And explode she did, her new member erupting for the first time, sending jets of thick, purple slime all over. The Grand Malboro purred happily, his tongue licking Donna clean of seed and her own slime.
The former human felt her master's mouth tighten around her. It was so soft, warm, and ever and ever more tight. Then the creature pursed its huge lips and spit Donna out onto the ground. She blinked her many, red eyes at the sudden reappearance of the light. She had wanted to stay inside her master forever.
She looked around, finding herself in the place where she had fallen, scraps of her armor and bodysuit lay all over. She looked to the Grand Malboro in bafflement, not understanding.
A massive tentacle picked up the shimmering, silver ribbon from the place where it had been discarded into the leaves. With a dexterity and grace that belayed the creature's massive size, the Grand Malboro gently coaxed four of Donna's tentacles away from the rest. Then he delicately tied the ribbon in a bow around their bases.
The creature grinned and patted his pet on the shoulders. He gave her a loving lick and ran a tentacle over the bow. Soon Donna was smiling as well.
"It will not allow any transformative magics to work on me." She whispered, hugging one of her master's thick tentacles, "And because I signed it out, the Academy knows where I am. They will most certainly send somebody to retrieve it."
The Grand Malboro wrapped a tentacle around Donna's plentiful new member, making the erect, throbbing length drip forth a generous amount of thick, viscous, purple slime.
"And we'll be ready for them." Donna whispered, her three mouths grinning widely.
Master Malboro and pet both began to purr with delight at what the future held for their kind. |
He was up to something, and they were going to prove it.
There was absolutely no way that the draolf was just hanging around doing absolutely nothing of substance after what happened the last time the two of them went out for dinner, not after the sort of comments that were made and the kind of aggressively lewd behaviour that was indulged in; no, there had to be some kind of hidden plan, an agenda of sorts, something that Spikes was trying to do in order to catch them off-guard. The alternative, that the draolf was acting completely normally and not spending an inordinate amount of time working in the shadows to try and deliberately steer the two of them towards yet another (potentially public) growthsplosion, was so… mundane, to the point of being downright farcical.
Their life together had been one long revolving series of strikes and counter-attacks, whereby one of them would do something, the other would reply in kind, and things just sort of escalated until it was perfectly normal for them to end up growing out of control in the middle of a crowded restaurant, smothering everyone in sight with a much larger than usual amount of nutflesh, followed by a nice, refreshing cum bath. It used to be that they were satisfied with the little things, back when the couple was content in assuming that their debauchery would never leave the bedroom, but as the arms race carried on and neither Tim nor Spikes were in any way willing to admit “defeat”, then things could only truly go in one direction… hence why, the previous week, the two of them had wrecked their favourite pizza place when they triggered two successive growth spurts that ended up completely destroying the whole place, very nearly putting the owner out of business if not for the fact that the hyper couple had an entire section earmarked for them on the state’s annual infrastructure budget.
Still, it was enough to get them to simmer down for a couple of days, which, given their usual predilection for size and excess, was more than anyone could really hope for; that said, seeing as the lynx had been the one responsible for leading them down that path the last time, it was only fair that it be the draolf the one who took the reins for the next incident, which was surely going to be the biggest, most destructive one yet… but he didn’t. Instead, Spikes had not mentioned either what had happened previously, nor any plans to repeat it going forward, at all, leaving Tim feeling both perplexed and utterly terrified of what might be happening behind those kind, twinkling eyes, what convoluted schemes were being laid out inside of the draolf’s sick little lewd mind.
The fact that nothing happened, and that, for all intents and purposes, Spikes really was doing nothing in their free time apart from playing video games and working out, did naught to abate the endless paranoia inside the feline’s head; for every moment their partner spent not actively working towards their next incident, then clearly whatever plan must be there became even more devious, certainly more complex as the web spun inside Spikes’ mind only became denser and more needlessly interconnected. The absence of any evidence became, in Tim’s mind at least, evidence of an absence… an absence that had to be dealt with, if the lynx wanted to be able to sleep at night.
They had been consumed by notions of a grandiose, multi-step grand plan that would inevitably spiral out of control until the whole city was involved in their next little incident, and while this much was a thought that warmed Tim to no end, it also meant that their next turn would need to beat it, which would be slightly less than easy, if they were to be honest. Thus, it was important to know exactly what was going to happen, down to the smallest, most inconsequential detail, for only then could the feline truly know what they were going to go up against, and how best they could tackle what challenges lay ahead; luckily, seeing as Spikes worked from home and very rarely left the premises, this meant it was extremely likely that anything solid they might’ve written down would be hidden away somewhere in their domicile, be it inside a hard drive or locked inside a box somewhere.
Trying to find it was a different matter altogether, as Tim was nothing if not an adept of the fine arts of flashiness; stealth wasn’t exactly their strong suit, nor even a suit at all, making each and every attempt at slithering away from view without being noticed an absolute pain. Granted, this was mostly because the lynx saw them as attempts at slithering away, subconsciously playing into tired tropes and only succeeding in drawing more attention to themselves, but in the end, somehow managed to slink into their shared spaces whenever the draolf wasn’t looking… only to find absolutely nothing. No files hidden in Spikes’ computer, nothing in the lockboxes they kept with important documents, not even scraps of paper secreted away inside pillows or within the springs of mattresses; Tim even went so far as to scale the outside of their bedroom window just to make sure that nothing was hidden in the gutter, succeeding only at nearly slipping and breaking their back on the ground if they hadn’t used their tail to anchor themselves on the windowsill.
And throughout all this, through the conflicts, trials and tribulations that were Tim’s and Tim’s alone, Spikes remained as placid, calm, and clearly scheming as ever, because obviously all of this had been part of his plan! Clearly, Tim thought to themselves after searching through their pillowcases for the tenth time, the draolf had always intended for them to lose their minds trying to discover where the plan was being hidden, and that itself was part of said plan! So devious was he, that the draolf had actually kept everything inside the one place that Tim could never truly breach: his own head. There were no documents, no paper trail, not even a diagram drawn in crayon or crudely arranged with a mouse on a painting software, because every detail, every tiny little moving piece of this magnificent machine, was burned into the inside of the draolf’s eyelids, allowing him to think of it in every waking moment, giving him all the tools needed to refine whatever he was thinking to do until it was so perfect, so undeniably glorious, that whenever it was put into action, Tim would happily throw themselves into the maw of their own doom.
Or, at least, that’s what the lynx kept telling themselves whenever their increasingly desperate queries yielded only confused looks and the occasional “What are you even talking about?” from their partner; it couldn’t be that Spikes was being genuine, not after so many months of mutual escalation. Truly, there was just no way that the draolf had actually decided to give up without even telling his mate; he had to be planning something, Tim was sure of it… they just didn’t know what that was. There were no clues, not even the smallest shred of a wisp that might lead them somewhere where they could find more evidence for the next assumption, but that certainly wasn’t going to stop the feline; after all, the more absence of evidence there was, the more this proved the plan was ingenious to an impossible degree!
Confirmation would come only after two weeks of nothing happening, two weeks where the lynx racked their brains for any possibility of what might be coming down their way, only to have every single item on their list of ideas be crossed out one by one. Even the last one, the remote possibility that the draolf might just be holding themselves back and nothing more, didn’t really pan out; Spikes was massive, sure, but he was just as massive as he always had been, what with his balls reaching the floor and a sheath up top big enough for Tim to throw themselves into. In the end though, the feline had their vindication, when they were approached by the draolf after the latter was done with a several hour-long workout and announced that he’d made reservations for the two of them in a fancy restaurant downtown, just about the last one that would still take the two of them after the kind of damage they were known cause to their environs; moreover, Spikes made sure to lower his voice when he then added he had a “big surprise” planned for when the two of them were comfortably sat at their table, which, as far as Tim cared, was the best vindication they could ever hope for: there was a plan, it did involve something big, and they hadn’t just been sweating over nothing!
Granted, now the cat could sweat over something else entirely, that being the fact that they still had no idea what the plan itself even was, nor what sizes they were expected to reach; like an artist having completed their magnum opus, Tim suddenly felt adrift in an unfamiliar ocean, lacking direction or any willpower to fight against the waves, for now that they had confirmation… what came next? Fear, perhaps, apprehension of sorts, as their mind raced to try and come up with any possible scenario they could feasibly prepare for; it wasn’t as if they could stop it, or even so much as guide it once the horny energies began to flow, but it was always important to have somewhat of an inkling of where things might be headed, even if just to be able to enjoy the experience to its fullest. But… they didn’t know.
In many respects, Spikes telling them that they had a surprise planned was even worse than if they had just kept quiet about it; Tim had no idea their mind could come up with novel forms of paranoia, but that’s exactly what their subconscious was besieged with from that point forward, and seeing as how the reservations were only for a couple of days from then, that was a long time for the feline to try and acclimate to this new state of affairs. By the time the hour rolled around, and the draolf was already getting ready with the most formal-looking casual wear he had, Tim was instead locked in the bathroom, splashing water onto their face and trying to convince themselves that they were in control, they knew where things were going, and all they had to do was let instinct take over and just relax; as long as they could do this, then things would go as they were supposed to, the two of them would probably end up destroying another culinary establishment, and then any further plans would necessarily have to involve a cookout of their own making, because no one was going to host them from that point forward.
Or maybe, just maybe, there was nothing to worry about, and whatever this “big surprise” was, it’d end up being far smaller than anything the lynx’s mind cooked up as a possibility; or perhaps, it was literally anything in between. Tim just didn’t know, they couldn’t know, and it was this uncertainty, linked with the belief that they were being deliberately played by their mate, who had to know how much of a toll this was taking on their mind, that left them on the brink of insanity. The feline was ready to start pulling their fur out and rip their clothes apart, with it taking a significant amount of effort to turn around, walk out of the bathroom, and put on a big smile when they came up with a nonsense excuse for why Spikes should be the one driving that night; something about drinking, it didn’t really matter.
Thus began the worst night of Tim’s life, when, for the first time in what felt like forever, they were going into an inevitable growthsplosion completely blind, with no clue on when, how or why it was supposed to be triggered; they didn’t even have the willpower to ask the draolf what his plan was, not even when the two of them got out of the car and walked through the front door, not when the waiter led them to their table, and certainly not when the entrée menu was given to them and Spikes began reading his copy attentively. The tension was never higher than when each page was turned, with Tim not even bothering to do anything other than stare directly ahead, scanning for the slightest indication that something might be out of the ordinary, be it the slightest jerk, the smallest motion that could be remotely considered abnormal, anything really; just as long as it was indicative of whatever this “big surprise” was, then the cat would take it… for about two hours.
After absentmindedly declaring that they’d have what the draolf was having and then barely touching their food, it was clear as day that, once again, they’d been played; there was no “big surprise”, or at least it wasn’t supposed to take place in the restaurant, and the more they begged Spikes to tell them what was going to happen, the more his increasingly-annoyed retorts finally got through to Tim: that there was nothing there, and whatever cockamamey story they had cooked up was entirely the fault of their unbridled, unchecked paranoia. As Spikes himself said:
“I just wanted us to have a decent night out for a change. Without breaking through a building.”
That, on its own, was enough to make the lynx feel like absolute garbage. They’d spent so long convinced that they were going to be on the receiving end of some devious, ingenious and impossible-to-predict plot to trigger a destructive growth spurt, that they’d never stopped to genuinely consider the possibility that their last-case scenario was right. That maybe, just once, they should calm down and let things be, accepting them as they were, without the threat of an architectural disaster hanging over their heads; in that moment, when their tense muscles went limp and the sweat pouring down their brow finally ran dry, Tim knew what the point was: to eat, for the two lovers to enjoy a nice dinner, without having to worry about whether or not they would blacklist themselves from yet another restaurant.
It was enough to get them to chuckle, almost cackle uncontrollably, but the lynx caught themselves before it was too late; instead, they just playfully poked Spikes’ nuts with the tip of their paw, surreptitiously indicating that, if there was no big payoff planned, then they’d just have to make one when they got home. But what they found wasn’t an empty, malleable sack; rather, a hard, stretched-taut surface that almost hurt when they tried to push against it. And almost instantly, the gurgling that emanated from those two cumtanks was loud enough that everyone in the building heard it.
And that’s when Spikes finally smiled. |
Mishaps in Dating A Chelsea Tail Chelsea groaned. She blearily reached for the remote, and knocked it on the ground. “Damn it.” Bending down she grabbed it and shut off the morning garbage that was still on. Oh, she hurt, she’d fallen asleep on the couch. A soft “merp” came from next to her udder where Clyde was yawning.
Sadly, taur bodies were not designed to sleep on couches. She was stiff all over. She nudged Clyde until he got indigent and jumped down. Righting herself she kicked something. Shit, the pump. The extra milk had stayed out all night. She cursed. That was less she had to sell, as she picked it up and carried it to the sink, pouring it out. That was rather literally a hundred dollars down the drain. Not that she wouldn’t make more, she could already feel herself getting tight around the udder, but damn it.
She checked the fridge, two gallons sat waiting in sealed custom tubs. The guy should be here by noon. He came twice a week, Wednesdays and Saturdays. She yawned, fed Clyde, and disappeared into the bathroom to get cleaned up.
*** *** ***
An hour later she emerged again feeling a lot better, freshly showed. She’d worked out most of the kinks in her back with some hot water and managed to get her hair clean. Slipping into her robe she started to cook some breakfast. The oatcakes were in the oven, and the milker sat next to the sink to dry, now cleaned and sterilized, when the doorbell buzzed.
“Hey, Damien.” She said as she opened the door to let him inside, making sure to close it quickly after.
Damien was her regular guy, he was nice enough, very professional. He was part of a collective that bought milk from cow women and other lactating transformees. In addition to being certified to college the milk and service the pumps, he also doubled as a bit of a care aide, dispensing udder balm, checking impacted nipples and teats, and generally looking for infection or other issues.
Damien tipped his cap to her. “How’s it going, Chelsea?” He set down a large square bag.
“I’m a little frustrated, I left the milk out overnight and had to toss almost a gallon.” She wanted to kick herself.
“Ouch, damn. Thanks for tossing it though so I don’t have to test it.”
“Yeah, no problem.” He bent down next to her and slid his hand under her robe and lifted it slightly. Anyone else she would have kicked for attempting that, but he wasn’t there to have fun. His hands probed around her teats, checking for injuries. He pulled down a bit on each to check flow. She shivered just a bit at the sensation. Then she could feel him applying some cream around them. It felt nice. “Just a little chapped down here, probably left the milker on a little too long. No obstructions.”
He slid around to her front, she just pulled open the robe to reveal her four breasts. His hands pressed around each gently, prodding each nipple and spraying just a touch of the milk into a small rag. As with her teats he pulled out the cream and applied it to the slightly chapped nipples. It wasn’t hard as his touch had made them quite erect. Chelsea had gotten over the fact that his touch made her nipples stiff, and the shyness around that. After nearly three years it had become routine. Not that she’d not considered making an offer to use him for her own nefarious purposes a time or two, but it was a professional thing, like a doctor.
Finally, satisfied with her, he looked at the milker, checking the seals and the case for damage.
“Alright Chelsea, I’ll grab the two gallons from the fridge. You need to ease up just a bit on the pump, maybe do twice a day instead of once but for less time while they heal a bit.” He pulled out his tablet computer and punched in some details for a few minutes.
Chelsea was gratified to hear the ping on her phone knowing that she’d just gotten a deposit. Generally, she’d get about fifty dollars a gallon. It sold for a lot more, but she liked working with the professionals on this. They were more reliable and they provided the pump, the udder care, and necessities as part of the package. If she bothered to look, she got an itemized receipt. The first time she’d been tested and sold to them she’d been amazed at the price she received. She had expected a couple dollars. It turned out that her milk was that high-quality human-baby formula level. Far better than the general cow’s milk a lot of other cowwomen produced, so it was highly sought after by nursing mothers and fetishists alike.
Damien finally finished entering things and printed out two small labels from a small machine. He opened the fridge again and slapped the labels on the milk jugs before setting them in the insulated bag. He took out two fresh containers and handed them to her.
“Thank you, Chelsea, I’ll see you next week.”
“Are you coming Wednesday?”
“No, I am taking a couple days off to go on vacation, but Leah will be coming by. You’ve had her before.”
Chelsea nodded. Leah was nice enough but not nearly as soft a touch as Damien. She had a tendency to pinch. “Yeah, I’ll be okay for a day with her.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back next Saturday.” “Thank Damien.” She let him out the door as he stepped off with the heavy bag.
*** *** ***
Clyde didn’t come out again for almost half an hour. He always hid when there was company. She spent some time playing with him and a long feather to make him feel better and to let the udder balm work on her nipples. She munched on the oatcakes, which thankfully hadn’t burned, and ate some yogurt for a late breakfast.
Clyde got bored after a bit and went to sit in the window to watch birds while she played on her phone. She did confirm the date for that evening, his lack of comments though was a bit disappointing. Maybe he was a better conversationalist in person.
After a bit she reached back and tugged lightly on a teat checking how tender they were. The balm seemed to have helped a bit. She was already feeling full, and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to be full for her date tonight. She decided to be full. If he was worth bringing home, maybe he’d like a suckle.
She pondered what she was going to wear. It was a first date, so nothing too fancy, but she kind of was hoping he’d be up for a roll in the hay. She giggled at the phrase given her more bovine body. It’d been too long and her amped up sex drive definitely needed some attention. She got up and started playing in the closet. She quickly settled on a black lacey number for her panties and bra.
She debated several times between skirts and pants, finally settling on a pair of specially made jeans. They fit her ass nicely and had a nice zipper to attach to the front pair. She found a nice cover for her udder, another custom made, that slipped over it and matched the bright pink of her tight-fitting t-shirt. She glammed it up with some hooped earrings in her floppy ears, and she put two small gold bands around her horns. She didn’t do too much make-up, just some lipstick, blush, and some eyeshadow. She added a bit of a nice soft perfume and gave herself a look. She felt cute, and no guy was ever going to miss the four big breasts that dominated her chest, certainly not with the V-neck she’d chosen.
Okay, she knew she was going a bit slutty, but this guy was cute and she really wanted a good fucking tonight. She found her pink heels, they’d be a bitch to walk in, but they definitely lifted her ass even more. Her tail flicked as she turned herself to get a good view of a very shapely backside.
She walked out to the kitchen and found her black purse. She dumped her keys, wallet, and a few other necessary items in it. Then she made sure Clyde’s food bowl was full. He hopped on the counter and mewed at her. “She bent over and nuzzled his furry head and gave him a few kisses. He licked her nose. She had to wipe the lipstick off his head.
She headed out the door, fifteen minutes ‘til four.
*** *** *** The place she was supposed to meet this guy wasn’t far from her apartment. A little bistro place, not too formal, that was about five blocks. She enjoyed walking down the street. The stares were occasionally a bit much, but today she felt like letting them stare. She settled into a nice sway and just flaunted it. Several people turned away, a few mutterings about decency, but a greater number, mostly guys, stopped just a moment to enjoy the sight.
She got to the bistro just after four. She looked around and a hand waved at her from a small table near the back. He stood up to meet her as she wove between the packed tables. He was good looking, just over six feet, sandy blonde hair, and a nice smile. Not to heavy, but not super skinny either. He looked like he’d even made the effort to be properly shaven. That was a plus in her book.
“Hi, Chelsea, I’m Steven. So glad you could join me.”
She shook his proffered hand. “Yep, good to meet you!”
Thankfully the waitress had noticed her and brought over a taur-suitable chair. They were mandated in restaurants now. She gently slid onto the elongated seat. This one was a bit uncomfortable as it wasn’t designed with udders in mind, so she had to twist her back legs to let the udder flop a bit to the side.
He settled down into his chair without any effort. Definitely a complete ‘normie’. They talked for a bit, it was uninspired conversation, but he was at least attentive. At some point the conversation turned to her.
“So, um, I’m really amazed you’re really, well, wow.” He made a vague gesture to her body.
“The whole cow thing?”
“Yeah, you’re stunning.”
“Think so?”
“Yeah. So, what made you do it?”
“Do what? Get the change?” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. He was cute enough to overlook some things.
“Yeah. I mean, why?”
She shrugged, “I just kind of always wanted to.”
“But a cow?”
“You like it don’t you?” She purred. “Yes, I love it.” His face was a bit flushed.
“Then don’t worry about why, and maybe worry more about whether you’re going to get into my pants.” She gave him a hard look and caressed one of her breasts. God, she felt naughty when her libido ran this high. It was almost as if she was in heat.
That ended that conversation though, as he just shut his mouth with a snap. They ate in relative silence before the conversation started to warm back up. By the end of dinner, it was passable again. He spent most of the time complimenting her, which was nice. They finally got the check and started to head out. She was torn between her libido and him just being a boring date. Her libido, aided by her now full udder, won.
He cleared his throat after they left the bistro. “So, um, I don’t suppose you were serious about the pants comment earlier. Because, I really, um, would like to” he glanced around a bit furtively, “milk you.”
She put a long nail under his chin, “I think that could be arranged.”
*** *** ***
They ended up back at her apartment. They kissed a bit, and she found her was a sloppy kisser. Finally, she just mentally let herself go with the flow. He probably wasn’t going to be that good, but she really needed some relief. He fumbled with her clothes, and she had to guide him into taking each piece off. He almost drooled at the sight of her four breasts but his clumsy hands squeezed too hard spraying milk out over his shirt.
“Gently.” She coaxed him. Guiding his hands around the erect nipples, showing him to pull lightly at first. Chelsea was getting more frustrated by the minute. He’d better be well hung to be worth this. She slipped off her pants, and let the udder cover drop free, leaving her in just her underwear.
“Can I?”
“Mmhmm.” He knelt down and slowly took a teat in his hand. Like with her nipples he grasped hard and unsurely.
“Ouch! I thought you’d been with a cowgirl before?” She snapped at him after he yanked hard on the teat.
“Well, no, not really. I have always wanted to be, but um, no.”
“Have you ever been with a lady at all?” She was all but in heat, but he was just driving her out of the mood. “Yeah a few.” He looked a little red-faced.
“And didn’t you learn how to touch a woman?”
“I thought you liked having your nipples pulled, you know to release milk.”
“Not so hard that it feels like you’re twisting them off.”
“But.”
“No buts. You can’t treat my nipples right; you don’t get me in bed. And from the look of the tent you’re pitching” She motioned to the very small bulge “I suspect you can’t satisfy me anyway.”
He looked down and then at her again. She knew she’d nailed. He wasn’t hung, and while she’d had some small guys who really could work with what they had, they also knew how to touch a woman. She started getting dressed again. “Get out.”
“But…”
“You either learn to touch a woman properly, or you stick to touching yourself. Now go, before I call building security to have you removed.”
“Bitch.”
“What’d you call me?” She glared at him, considering whether her horns were decorative or if she could gore him with them.
“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re a fat cow.” He snapped.
She laughed at him. “And you’ve a little tiny prick who isn’t going to get any. Ever.”
He finally stormed out and slammed the door. She dialed down to the security desk to make sure he was escorted out and that he was put on the do not enter list for the future.
She stopped long enough to milk herself properly, this time taking the time to properly store it too. Returning to the couch she cursed herself for letting her libido get her into a bad date and a worse chance at getting dicked. Now she was angry and horny. Damn it, she though, why couldn’t I find a decent guy who wants a good day of fucking? She started looking through the ads again, but not before she got her old reliable dildo out for another round of self-care.
Maybe tomorrow would be better as she swiped right on a few possible choices. Clyde bounced up and purred, settling down under her breasts as she leaned over the couch’s arm. She petted her fuzzy companion, and continued to rock her hips as she looked at a few more dating options. Maybe this one… |
Hello, Mother Tara stared out at the gray drizzle from the worn couch. Another day inside. Almost every day of her life spent staring out the window. She shifted, her foot tingling from where she’d been sitting on it too long. Her perfectly normal foot. Not like Jeanie who had feet like an elephant. Just normal dainty human feet.
Sighing she looked down at the worn books that were on her bedside. Years of reading instead of playing had isolated her from everyone else as one by one her friends succumbed to the noxious fumes and chemical laden waters that coursed through the town. By junior year she’d been the last. Bets had been placed as to whether she’d make it out of high school without mutating, but somehow, she had. They’d even given her an award about it, though it seemed more depressing than not. By being normal, she was the one who was different. She glanced at her hands, long slender fingers not a trace of webbing or claw. She wondered how the other kids felt seeing themselves mutate. She had to admit a ping of jealousy.
The lights flickered a moment, reminding her of the tentative power supply. It was getting harder and harder to get supplies into the region, and the region was getting bigger. She’d tried to leave only to find that it’d spread farther than she could get. Her mother had collected her in the car, using precious gas to track her down at the bus station three hours away.
She remembered that bus ride. Her chance at freedom. The bumps from the potholes, the rush of the air as they headed down roads long since abandoned by most cars. Only those few trucks that risked the trek into the blight. That’s what they were calling it now. The aftermath of a chemical disaster that had mixed with the water, leeched into the air, and permeated the ground. She’d tried to escape, only the be hauled back by her irate mother. They’d fought for days. She’d yelled at her mother for not leaving when she had the chance. She still could perhaps, she was barely mutated herself, and she’d raised a daughter with so much caution that even at twenty-three she still retained her humanity.
But it was a humanity without value now. What value was there to being the last human? Her college days had hardly been any better than her high school ones. Alone, hidden in dorms studying aging books with professors who no longer seemed to care. The local college was all she could afford, and she’d tried to succeed. Four more years of study had given her a piece of paper she hadn’t even known what she could do with. Jobs were scarce now, and a degree was hardly worth the paper it was printed on in a world where survival was the order of the day.
She stared outside at the rain again. She wondered what it’d be to have a tail or even to become a blob. Vinny didn’t seem to mind being a sentient bowl of pudding. Not that he could do much more than burble and make fart noises now. She shivered, wondering how much humanity she would eventually lose. She couldn’t stay safe forever. No one could. One by one the people around her had changed. The postman still delivered, but now had two heads. One that was Miles, and the other they’d named Mildred. She’d wondered how much more of him had changed when he became them. “You need to stop moping.” Her mother’s voice rasped, harsh from years of working near toxic fumes.
“I’m not moping.” Tara replied crossly.
Her mother put her hands on her hips, “Yes, you are. What are you doing about finding a job?”
“Waiting,” came the absent reply.
“For?” Her mother inquired.
Tara gestured vaguely at the window, “The rain to stop, of course.”
“Good girl.” Her mother smiled weakly and moved off into the kitchen, her only tell that she wasn’t fully human anymore were the tips of her ears that folded down in a rather porcine manner, peaking through her slowly graying curls.
Tara turned back to the window and wondered.
*** *** ***
The house was still her prison. What else could she call it? The rain had not let up in days. The steady drip of iridescent drops, each promising danger that made her shiver with a mix of fear and excitement. She couldn’t keep going on like this. Days of watching the rain, wondering what the future might hold. She needed to live. But she hesitated. Live for what? She wanted to be around people again. She barely saw anyone anymore. She’d grown up increasingly isolated. Her fingers twitched as she thought about the rain again. About running out and dancing in it, letting the pollution do what it would with her so she might not be the only normal person left. To risk becoming half a giant spider like the lady down the street, perhaps? There were no guarantees what the chemicals would do to her, save change her. She’d thought about it a thousand times before, and each time her mother’s fear made her hide in from the rain as she saw everyone she knew changed.
Her fingers clenched and unclenched, the perfectly trimmed nails leaving small crescents on her palms. She knew one day she’d get caught. Why not make it her decision to when? Getting up from the couch she shivered a little in the cool autumn temperatures. The house’s heat had quit working years ago. She needed something warmer.
*** *** ***
The door opened to her hand. Six weeks now of rain. Not a single day she could risk leaving the house to even dash to one of the few stores that remained. No one to see her, no one to talk to save her mother. She was slowly going insane. She stood under the porch, watching the splatter of drops fall everywhere. Delicate, soothing, yet so frightening. She’d tired of watching through the window, and for the last week she’d stepped as far as the porch. Inching nearer to catastrophe or salvation. Each time she set foot outside she wondered if it would finally be the day. Her day. Why should she live as a human when no one else did? The price of her freedom was only her humanity, something her mother valued more than she. Maybe today. Her fingers clenched around the door frame, fear pushing back. Maybe not.
Tara started to turn, her heel coming down on the aging wood of the porch with an awkward twist. The wood cracked and splintered under her, sending her sprawling backwards. Her arms windmilled; balance lost. Time slowed as she felt her body falling backwards onto the green-brown grass, the first drops splashing against her face, cool and soft. Fate had decided for her.
She lay there on the ground for a moment. Her body exposed to the rains as their chemical laden waters drenched her. She should be terrified. She knew what was coming, but instead she laughed. It was over. The fear was over. She knew she’d change, and at last she’d be free of the prison of her house. The fear that had held her for twenty-three years released in a tidal wave of giddy laughter as she just let the rain fall upon her.
Her mind wandered, wondering what would change about her. Would she get tentacles? How about a dozen eyes? What about a tail? Oh, she liked the idea of a tail, but it didn’t matter. What would come, would come. She slowly sat up and lifted herself off the ground, water pouring down her face. Droplets getting into her mouth leaving a taste of acidic metal.
She hobbled inside, her ankle smarting, and stripped off her clothes, throwing them in the tub. There was no hiding what was to come, why should she bother. She took a moment to take a last look at herself in the mirror. She gave herself an appraising look. She felt she was pretty enough, a bit chubbier than she might like with thick thighs. Her brown hair hung limply over her eyes now, making her a bit bedraggled in a just out of the shower kind of way, as rivulets of water traced down her chest, tiny droplets beading off her nipples. This was what she had just given up.
How long it would take? Her mind spun. Some people reacted quickly; others took days. There was no way to tell save to let it happen. She dried herself off with a towel, feeling exhausted, yet giddy. She wanted to stay and watch until it happened, her eyes glued to the mirror for any sign of reaction, but nothing. Five, ten, twenty minutes passed and she grew weary of staring at herself in the mirror. She shouldn’t waste the light anyway. Reluctantly she peeled herself away, her stomach starting to grumble.
There wasn’t much to eat, but she found some leftovers that she ate cold from an old ceramic dish. The ancient microwave was iffy at best and she didn’t think it was worth the risk of getting electrocuted for a meal. At last, feeling a bit better she gave herself another look over, her skin showing nothing save its soft normal golden color that she’d had all her life.
*** *** ***
Tara awoke with a start, still naked on the couch where she’d fallen asleep. Her body felt wracked with pain. She clenched her arms around her waist as she bent forward, her back on fire. She could feel something there. Something growing. She tried to stand, wanting to see what was happening in the mirror, but her legs would not cooperate. The first attempt ended up no better than reaching her knees before her legs burned and buckled under her. The second try resulted in her falling forward, her legs flopping out behind her unable to shift or move. She reached down, feeling a ridge along her hip that rippled under her fingers. She probed her thighs and pressed deeply into the flesh, feeling no resistance as if her bones were just gone. Grabbing the carpet, she tried to haul herself forward, but her arms couldn’t move her increasing weight with the bulk that continued to press down on her back. She was stuck here.
She couldn’t see much. It was late, and dark. Her body flexing under the mutation. Sometimes she could feel the changes as her body realigned, other times she relied on her fingers to feel. The mass on her back was now large enough to feel all the way to the crack of her ass. The edges were hard, with a whirled texture. Below her waist her legs had fused. She could feel the ridges growing along the edges, now reaching the floor. With a little thought she could control them, and they pressed against the floor giving her the slightest motion. She pulled harder only to feel something squirt from inside herself.
Fingers reflexively reached down to her vulva; its mass pressed out against the floor where her legs joined. A slick goo oozed out of her coating the tailing crest of her hips, slipping downward onto what had been her legs. She shifted the flanges along the remnants of her legs only to feel her pussy belch forth another trail of slime, coating more of her legs, and this time she felt herself lurch slightly forward. Again and again, until she could feel the ooze slipping all the way down to what once were her toes
Pulling herself again, this time her new appendage working with her as the slime let her at last slide across the carpet, she managed to make her way slowly to the bathroom. The light was nearly out of reach from her position on the floor but she managed before scooting herself behind the door to see what the full-length mirror offered her.
The image that revealed was both expected and unexpected. She knew the feel of the weight on her back, but it was quite another thing to see the whorled colored shell of iridescent greens and browns. Her legs were gone, replaced with the slimy foot of the snail she’d become. Her vulva providing lubricant not just for sex now, but for motion itself. She guessed she’d need to get over her modesty. This was made more obvious by the small rises that were slowly growing from her chest as one by one her torso sprouted four more breasts, each full and ripe, sensitive to the touch as her long fingers played with them.
Her focus became blurry, her eyelids drooped as first one eye, then the other popped out and hung down from their socket sending her visual world reeling. It took her a moment to realize she could lift her eyes again. Her vision cleared as she slowly managed to get them both lifted together, blinking slowly as she realized her eyes were now on long stalks that rose up over the top of her head. Still the same soft brown eyes. She experimented turning one then the other until she could process the whole of the room in a single motion, her brain’s visual centers rewiring to process a new three dimensions visual world. Looking down again she regarded her arms. At least she’d kept her hands. Those long fingers remained her own, and perhaps now they were the last real signs of her humanity. Not that she cared. She slipped them down her breasts, feeling each new nipple, a soft sigh coming from her lips as she felt the tingling from each new nub as it was gently flicked, twisted, or pulled. Her slit now gushing, leaving herself in a pool of her own sticky juices, to which her fingers wandered. She pulled apart her lips, feeling the sensitivity that crept along each fold as she delved into her own womanhood, wondering if more had changed than she realized. Explorations turned into ministrations as she started to drive her fingers deeper with more abandon, her other hand reaching up to play with as many breasts as she could manage, coating them in her own slime.
She reveled in it. Each orgasm sending shivers through her new tail. The ripples of her new flesh in time with the pulsing of her orgasms. She felt herself reaching a crescendo as her body bucked and squirmed. Insider herself she felt a pressure, a need for release. Her fingers drover onward, forcing themselves to crest that mountain she needed. At last, she let out a scream, her vulva pulsing as contractions spasmed through her vagina, pushing out object after object as each drove her to new heights of orgasm as they passed through her canal. Exhausted she let out a moan as she felt the last spherical white egg slip from her now very tender pussy. The floor covered in a mess of her own slime and a pile of nearly two dozen such eggs.
*** *** ***
The door opened and closed, the house was dark save for the light from the bathroom, but there was no noise. “Tara? What happened to the porch? There’s a hole in…” Her mother’s voice caught as she saw the shape emerging from the bathroom hallway. Hands flew to her mouth, “oh, my baby girl,” she cried as tears welled in her eyes.
Tara’s eyestalks bobbed, “Hello, mother. I’ve changed.” |
She wouldn’t usually have come to a place like that, if not for her friends being insistent that it was actually a lot more classy than it first appeared; surprisingly, they weren’t joking, even if the rabbit was convinced that the whole thing had been some sort of ploy to get her to “loosen up” for a girl’s night out, despite her insistence that she was just fine and absolutely didn’t want to go ogle some hot piece of ass while turning off her many, many compunctions about the subject. Plus, there were still plenty of curves on full display without the whole place being just shy of an outright strip club, so it was a win-win situation all around: Carla could pretend that this was just a simple get-together for some good food and some good drinks, while still occasionally glancing at her side whenever she sensed something eye-catching was coming her way.
This didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of her friends, though at least they were decent enough not to bring attention to it… if only because they knew that doing so would immediately have the shyest in the group try to come up with a dozen excuses for why they had to be anywhere but there and then try to slip away as noticed as possible. It was a complicated dance that they engaged in, one that had been going on ever since Carla first took the job at her current workplace and found that there were several other gals of around her age who also enjoyed the occasional drink after work, a discovery that lent itself dangerously well to a large number of nights spent doing things that they were glad none of them had recorded for posterity yet; it was only a matter of time until one of them whipped out of their phone and the whole world was made aware of what took place behind closed doors after they walked home to one of their places, but until that happened, the group was happy to enjoy themselves… though Carla always kept slightly behind.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like the notion of going out with her gal pals and enjoying a stiff drink after a meal that was perhaps a bit too heavy for both her body type and wallet, but it just so happened that she was a bit of an anomaly when it came to that group of rabbits, that being that she wasn’t nearly as interminably horny as the other ones were… at least, not outwardly so. The amount of lewd comments that flew from side to side, especially once drinks began to get involved, turned frankly ridiculous, and more than once Carla found her cheeks to be burning so brightly that the only reasonable solution was to excuse herself and call a cab to go home, after coming up with a half-decent explanation for why she had to do so.
Most worryingly, it was less a case of her not liking to think about those things as it was her not wanting to do so; knowing as well as she did that her penchant for daydreaming could very easily get in the way of her day to day life if she didn’t actively keep it restrained, the last thing that Carla needed, at least in her own head, was to “loosen up” and become more accepting of her own sexual thoughts, lest she end up thinking about what a hypothetical someone might hypothetically do to her in a series of hypothetical scenarios that she absolutely, positively had never searched for online, no matter what her search history said.
Nevertheless, her friends kept surreptitiously trying to push her into situations where she had to actively make the choice between listening to the side of herself that was very clearly there, or try to make excuses for it and then run away, and while the latter option always won out in the end, that hadn’t dampened their spirits; if anything, it had become a sort of running joke between the group, that Carla was secretly the horniest of the bunch, but just refused to admit it and-or kept it so well-hidden that it was locked behind three layers of encryption and four different passwords… which wasn’t all that far from the truth, all things considered.
For that night in particular, the group went out to a new restaurant that had just opened half a mile or so from their workplace, one that was themed in a very specific way, hence why Carla was initially reluctant to accept the invitation until she was assured that the whole thing would be above board. It also just so happened that she was blessed with an abnormally high libido that day, one that was just barely kept in check through some extreme, frankly at times supernatural amount of self-restraint on the young woman’s part, which wasn’t at all helped by the way that everyone dressed inside that damned place; maybe if they covered up nicely, she wouldn’t be so on edge, but the rabbit’s brain being what it was, there weren’t a lot of ways for her to react that didn’t involve arousal in some way.
Thus, her initial reluctance to head to an establishment whose entire gimmick was that every person who worked there was a herm, a gimmick that was about as obvious and on-the-nose as the restaurant management’s insistence that it was purely for aesthetic reasons and had nothing to do with sexual titillation of any kind. The lie was thin, the narrative it spun even thinner, but it was something at least, and Carla could work with something, making it just easy enough for her to come up with nonsense rationalizations whenever a waitress popped up to ask them what they wanted next and it was very obvious that their uniforms were designed to fit their form first and worry about function never.
Trying to justify why she wasn’t getting up and leaving became harder and harder for the small rabbit as the drinks kept coming, to the point where she didn’t think herself capable of lasting for the whole night; it was only through some heavy insistence on the part of her friends that Carla remained seated, and even then her cheeks were permanently dyed red the whole time, so much so that she convinced herself that the colour would never wash off no matter how hard she tried. Miraculously, she made it to the end of the night (relatively) unscathed, or at least long enough that the rest of the group recognized it was probably time to call them all a taxi and head home before they did something they would regret later; plus, they still had work in the morning, so it was best not to try their luck.
It was only then, right as the group of friends were leaving the restaurant, right when things started to get noisier as the hours ticked by and the thin veneer of civility and decency could be torn off to reveal the true debauchery that lay behind it, that Carla saw them: they were clearly working for the place, given the sort of half-uniform they were wearing, but given their proportions, it was obvious they weren’t supposed to be seen by the more “respectable” clientele, being reserved for after-hours fun only. They were a hare, one with almost comically long ears, and a herm too… and they just so happened to be massive that they probably qualified to be a hyper.
It wasn’t every day that someone with those sorts of proportions was seen dressed that way in front of a large crowd. Sizes on those levels weren’t exactly unheard of, but given the host of “complications” that usually came with them, those blessed with the gene tended to dress more modestly, or at least cover up enough so as to not be a distraction for everyone around them… or a flooding hazard… or both, as fate usually had it. There, however, in an establishment clearly built from the ground up to cater to those specific tastes, there was no reason for the massive hare not to place themselves on full display, even if that all-but guaranteed they’d have something spilled on their fur by night’s end; then again, seeing as how they were weaving between the tables with such ease, it was clear that they were already used to that sort of thing, which only made the spectacle that much more… unbearable was a word, and certainly one that Carla wished she could use, but the sight of that woman was far too much for her to handle, and not in a bad way like she’d hoped it would be.
Rather, looking straight at someone that was a good ten or so feet tall, and yet had most of their body covered by their assets, awoke certain instincts within her that she couldn’t deny were leaving her hot and bothered to a degree so immense as to be downright farcical, and if not for the fact that the giant herm was coming her way, she would’ve turned around and bolted out of the club by that point. But how could she, when such a gorgeous beauty was headed towards her, presumably to say goodbye to their clientele and make them feel right at home? Everything seemed to conspire to keep Carla rooted to her spot: the gargantuan set of breasts slung out in front of the barely-dressed hare, each one big enough to completely cover her own body, forming a bust that probably had more backboob than the enormous waitress had torso width, not to mention the very obvious fact that they were stuffed full of milk, at least judging from the sloshing and the constant dripping of the head-sized nipples as they swayed from side to side; amazingly, the hare’s rear managed to be visible even from behind that colossal wall of breastflesh, as well as their thighs and hips, betraying just how utterly massive they must be… but nothing, absolutely nothing, could quite compare to the way that the amazon had her cock wedged firmly between her tits, just barely covered by a specially-designed piece of underwear that left nothing to the imagination.
It was probably about as thick as Carla’s own torso, certainly longer than she was tall, and though the smaller gal couldn’t spot where the balls were thanks to the tits covering everything from the giantess’s neckline down to the ground, she could certainly hear them gurgling menacingly somewhere behind all those monstrously overengorged curves. And yet, when the titanic beauty walked up next to her, the words that came out of their mouth were so soft, so inviting, so friendly and jovial, that the two of them might as well just be roomies back during Carla’s college years.
“Hope you had a good time!” the employee called out to the whole group, “Be sure to come back whenever you like!”
With that, they leaned down just enough for the smaller rabbit to get an even better view of their cleavage, before doing something that would seal the latter’s fate: giving Carla a pat on the head. It was an innocent gesture, at least on its face, and to the colossal hare’s credit, there was no way they could’ve predicted what would happen immediately afterwards; alas, the rabbit’s body was both incredibly reactive to any kind of arousal and it had a tendency of keeping itself on maximum activation for as long as it possibly could, even when given the tiniest of stimuli, and so, combined with the general atmosphere, the sight of the gigantic employee, and plenty of swirling thoughts regarding her own size, it wasn’t surprising that Carla reacted to this sudden physical contact by moaning loudly enough that she had to stifle it, forcing two hands over her mouth and only letting out what sounded like a muffled grunt.
While the rest of her friend group all began giggling, the waitress was clearly surprised by what had just happened, though for entirely different reasons; unlike Carla’s work colleagues, the giantess got to watch as their customer’s bosom, previously all-but flat and entirely unassuming, suddenly bulged outwards as soon as they had given Carla a pat on the head. In fact, the longer their hand was kept on the rabbit, the more the latter’s breasts swelled outwards, not only causing the blush on the Carla’s face to become more intense, but also strengthening the sounds trying to escape from her throat; cup size after cup size went by, until, once the hand came off, the rabbit’s tits had burgeoned outwards far enough that what had once been a perfectly fitting shirt had ridden halfway up her torso, leaving her in such a state of blind panic that they could think of only one thing to do: turn around, and run.
It was fortunate for her that her place was close enough by that they could dip into a few alleyways and take a handful of shortcuts to get there, luckier still that it was late enough that she wouldn’t be bothered by a lot of people on the street, yet not too late as to be unsafe; not so fortunately, the sudden and inexplicable growth didn’t just end at the headpat, because as she made her way home, feeling her lungs burn and her legs grow increasingly weary, the weight on her chest that bounced wildly with each of her steps only became heavier, harder to handle, and absolute murder on her back, seeing as she wasn’t remotely prepared for it. By the time Carla found herself at the front door to her apartment block, barely able to breathe and her eyes bulging out from the strain, she was fully exposed: her shirt had torn open about a minute back, her tits had spilled out and began covering most of her chest, and judging from the pressure she was feeling, were about to erupt with an inconvenient amount of milk.
‘Twas only after she squeezed herself into the elevator that Carla noticed something even worse: when trying to lift her breasts up to measure how heavy they were, her hands brushed up against what was, unmistakably, a second row of nipples underneath the first! Nothing too major, certainly not enough to warrant a full panic, but enough when placed in conjunction with the rest of the transformation to let the rabbit know just where exactly she was headed; the buds were little more than tiny nubs, inflamed spots that had yet to “grow in”, but judging by the way the rest of her body was acting, it was only a matter of time before that happened… and the fact that there was a third set of them just beneath was exactly what she needed to trigger a full release, when the mental image of what she would eventually look like overpowered her better judgement.
Two gouts of milk, firing from her teats with enough force to send her crashing to the ground, back against the wall, shivering from the raw pleasure of it all. Carla could feel her tits stretching to accommodate the sudden milk production, adding yet more size onto them; though her eyes were closed, she could picture how massive they must be, judging by how she had her arms out as much as they could go and still couldn’t reach her nipples. It wasn’t until she opened her peepers, however, and spotted what was looking at her from between her cleavage, that the rabbit truly understood in just how much trouble she was in:
A cock. |
Tale of a Tail
Shadirra backed away from the radiant pool in the middle of the floor. "I... I can't do it." she said, shaking her head.
Her claws clicked on the crystalline tiled floor of the cavern as she walked away, her large tail swaying behind her as she walked. The mage was the only one who hadn't bathed in the water yet. It would wash away her curse, banish it forever. It would melt away the purple scales that covered her body, dissipate the powerful muscle that covered her frame, reshape her bones back into their human configuration.
It had been a powerful spell, a terrible spell, the day the dark sorceress Irete Oathbreaker used the Crystal of Earth to channel her spell, infusing all in the land of Oruma with a shard of monster essence, bringing the weaker willed under her power.
"It doesn't hurt at all, Shadirra. Get in." her mother commanded. Rialo was a strong willed woman, there was no doubt that she could overcome the spell. She was a forceful woman, especially for a white mage. If she wasn't so much in fear of her, Shadirra was quite sure that she would have fallen under the Dark Elf's thrall.
Shadirra had recently come to realize that her mother didn't see her as a mother ought to. As the head of the prestigious House Lightwing, Rialo seemed to see her everything as little more than pieces on a game board to be given away for something in return. There had been little affection, and a great deal of scorn, voiced disappointment, and a great deal of disapproval from the elder Lightwing.
"Step in the water, Shadirra." Tinyon said, sounding impatient. The warrior was the eldest son of Lord Daylor, head of House Flamewright. He was her fiance, a marriage arranged by their parents.
Her gaze went the the eyes of the fourth member of their group, her younger sister Rida. The ranger always seemed able to read Shadirra's feeling with a glance. A small smile appeared on her face and she nodded almost imperceptibly.
The gray mage looked down at her hands... paws... whatever. She had been infused with the essence of a powerful beast, of both body and magic. A Behemoth. Her body covered in purple scales, navy blue bull-like horns jutting from her temples, a muzzle full of fangs, a powerful tail. A small, frail woman before, she now stood several feet taller than Tinyon.
She remembered the thrill she got fighting monsters, being able to approach them, being able to attack without fear, not having to cower behind someone else. She recalled the satisfying cracking and snapping sounds that the gate had made when they had broken out of occupied Oruma. The feeling of the grand door's locks snapping, the bar slowly giving up under the force of her body.
"Come on! We can take the water and put a drop in the Grand River. We'll be the saviors of Oruma!" Rialo said, waving her daughter forward.
A single drop of the Pool of Light's water placed in any sort of water would bestow the effect of the pool upon the body of water for a week and a day, and as the Grand River supplied the drinking water to Oruma, it would dispel the dark curse Irete had place upon the city. Especially once it rained.
"I will not wed a beast, Shadirra, nor will I allow one to share my bed." Tinyon half growled. He had become a wolfen creature, quite fitting to his gruff personality.
"Get in the water, Shadirra, now!" Rialo demanded, beginning to grow angry. She had been, most appropriately, a harpy.
Shadirra began to shiver, not sure what to do. She liked her new body, liked the way it made her feel. She didn't feel helpless, she felt strong, powerful, vibrant. She felt alive. It felt right to be like this. It was like she had been born into the wrong body, and only now had regained the form she was always meant to have.
"No." she said softly, her voice a low rumble.
"WHAT?!" her mother roared, "Don't tell me you want to remain as a hideous beast for the rest of your life! You know that in another week or two, the monster's spirit will fuse with your own PERMANENTLY, don't you?"
Shadirra nodded.
"Why? Why on earth would you want to be a disgusting scaled freak?"
"Because it makes me feel safe, Mother. I don't have to be afraid of anything." Shadirra rumbled.
"You realize that the moment Oruma is uncursed, and the cleansing rains have ceased, that anyone left uncleansed will be dubbed a monster, and doomed to be hunter. I'll see to it myself."
Rialo was the head of the Council of High Houses, with the royal family likely dead, she would be in charge of Oruma until a new ruler was found. The white mage had spent a great deal of time on the journey to the Crystal Caverns plotting what she was going to do once they had the cure.
Shadirra nodded her horned head. "Yes."
"You'll never be able to set foot in a city again, you'll never be welcomed in even the smallest rural village."
"Not in Oruma. I would be welcomed in Eynflaim." Shadirra said, naming the Realm of Fire, a place where strength and skill was appreciated and treated with respect, no matter the look of who held it. Not like the Realm of Earth at all. Cold, uncaring, unchanging, stubborn.
"Don't be stupid, Shadirra, you'd never make it that far. The poachers in Darken Wood'd have your hide. Get in the water. Now. Before I lose my patience."
"No!" Shadirra growled.
"Young lady..." Rialo said through clenched teeth, "I will not have my child become a beast. You will step in the pool, you will turn back to your true self, you will come home, and you will be married. You have a wedding to look forward to."
Shadirra turned her head, looking over Tinyon, who was drinking from his canteen. "I don't like him, Mother. He's a pompous ass."
Rialo yelped as the warrior spit water all over her. "SHADIRRA! Apologize to your future husband!"
Rida finally spoke up, "Why should she? Especially when it's true! I know you've had to have seen the way he treats he, the was he looks down his nose at her when he sends her scrambling off to fetch something for him. You know damned well that he treats her like little more than a servant. You and Daylor concocted this whole marriage for political purposes. You didn't even think of Shadirra's feelings. How do you think she felt, waking up on day and hearing you say, 'Guess what dear? You're getting married to the big nosed git that used to push you in the rose bushes as a child.'"
The warrior simply stood dumbfounded. No one dared to insult him in Oruma, at least not to his face.
Rialo snorted, "Be silent, Rida, we are all aware of your dislike of men in general and preference for your own gender. Don't attempt to force your preferences on your sister."
"Oh, that's rich, Mother, considering you've controlled every single facet of her life that you were able to."
"Disobedient brat, I..."
"Oh a brat am I? I must take after my mother."
Rialo fixed her gaze on the Behemoth, "Shadirra, see reason, if you leave, you place the future of our house into the hands of your irresponsible sister. You need to stop being a selfish little bitch and think about how your decision would affect your entire family, and the entire realm as well! I don't see it. How can you possibly defend you decision?!"
Shadirra lowered her head and smiled, "I can defend it with one word."
"Can you now?" Rialo said with a snort of disgust.
"I can." the Behemoth rumbled, grinning even wider.
"And that word is what?"
"Teleport."
-o-
Shadirra yawned and stretched, her dark purple body eager soaking up the warm rays of the sun. She blinked her eyes a few times to clear the sleep from them. She had had the dream again.
The Behemoth gasped softly as she got to her feet. She still had her... condition. It hadn't gone away over night. She had thought that she would be just fine on her own, be herself out in the wild, and for the most part she was right.
Her hunting instincts had served her well after she had used her magic to warp herself out of the cavern, giving her a good hour's head start to making it towards the wilderness and hiding herself in the forest. She had no idea if her mother had gone looking for her or not, but she hadn't found her.
Shadirra had made a nice place for herself, near the place where Oruma's boarder met that of the Realm of Water, far enough towards the Realm of Fire that encircled the other three that it was nice and warm all year round.
She didn't miss her old life at all, though she did miss the company, having someone to talk to. Yaqueran sailors came ashore sometimes to hunt game for fresh meat on their way up the coast to the trading city of Isdril, ferrying goods back and forth between it and Oruma. Most Water Realm folk had some fish-like traits, scaly skin, a few fins, frills, or spines, a few had tails, and almost all had comparatively strange colorations compared to Orumans, so Shadirra wasn't all that odd to them.
A soft sighed escaped her lips as she adjusted her loin cloth. Her sex was puffy, pink, wet, and aching. She was in heat, the need to mate filling her more and more each day. It had started about a week ago, a faint twinge that and grown into a throbbing desire. Shadirra wasn't sure how much longer she could go without darting towards the nearest village and pouncing the first male she saw. A few more days and she might even be open to... doing it... with one of the feral creatures her scent seemed to draw.
Mmm... she could almost imagine a Rock Lion, a kind of massive lizard with a passing resemblance to a lion, snuggling up to her. She had seen a few, and was more than likely to draw one soon. Oooh, she needed to mate so badly.
She found her fingers creeping towards her loins. It only dulled the ache for a little while, the itch that needed scratching was far, far deeper inside of her than her fingers could reach. She needed a male. A smooth scaled, sexy Rock Lion male. Biting down on the scruff of her neck, forepaws on her back, mounting her from behind.
A sudden movement caught Shadirra's eye. She sighed softly as she saw what it was. The tip of her tail twitching, wagging rather like a happy dog. She rather liked her tail, it was quite useful. It helped her climbs trees and keep her balance while walking over logs. It also served as a quite effective weapon, as the mass and all the muscles behind it made it hit with the force of a club.
Shadirra ran her hands over it, she rather like the smooth scaled, tapering flexible... a smile spread over her face. The Behemoth rolled onto her back in the soft sand, spreading her legs. She pulled off her loin cloth and tossed it away, the only article of clothing she wore. She found she didn't mind going naked at all, but it tended to slightly put off the few people that would talk with her.
Her tail was flexible, but not flexible enough that she could move with precision while bent. She took the tip in her hands, and guided it toward her sex, sliding it in slowly. She guided more and more of it into her, a few inches disappearing into her womanhood. There was some resistance to her tail, which made Shadirra push a little harder, causing a brief pain.
A sudden laugh came from her as she had realized what she had just done. Ah well, it didn't serve any sort of purpose out here anyway. No big nosed, foul tempered, rather unpleasant noblemen to be forced to marry that required a girl to keep herself 'pure.'
With her maidenhead broken, her tail went in much easier. She moaned loudly as a jolt of pleasure went throw her body. Oh yes, there was the spot! That nagging itch that needed to be scratched. She pushed her tail in deeper, spreading herself wider. She found that she could flex some of her tail muscles, making it wriggle deliciously inside of her.
Almost half of her tail had been pushed inside of her. It felt so nice, it made Shadirra want more. But unfortunately the appendage didn't bend properly, making her unable to pull in any more. She removed her hand from the length, she would have to pull it back out again, it shouldn't slide out accidentally. She had more fun things in mind for that hand.
She brought both to her breasts, large, heavy breasts. Smooth scaled and capped with dark purple nipples that were incredible sensitive to the touch. It was why Shadirra didn't wear a top. Her growing body had overcome the silk robe that she had worn when she made her escape, and the animal hide that Shadirra used for clothing had too much texture to it, so it rubbed her uncomfortably and made her horny.
Shadirra yowled, thrusting her hips, clawed toes scratching furrows in the ground. Her forked tongue lolled out of her mouth as she tail-fucked herself. She could feel her tail beginning to slip out with each thrust. She was about to reach down to stop it when she felt the sensation of her scales caressing her inner walls.
The Behemoth let out a roar as she came, hips thrust up in the air, back arched, breasts squeezed tightly in her handpaws. Her tail whipped out of her, wet droplets flying through the air from it, a fountain of Behemoth sex juices erupting from her cunt. She gasped softly with each tiny aftershock, each accompanied by a further gush of wetness.
The ache had faded. It wasn't gone, not entirely, but it was tolerable. Shadirra brought her tail to her mouth, licking it clean of her tasty juices. Mmm... she didn't need a male now. Her tail would do the trick. Her wonderful, lovely, sexy, perfect tail. She didn't need a male, but she wasn't totally adverse to the idea. Especially if it was a cute Rock Lion, or better yet, a male Behemoth. Though the powerful, but slow breeding, monsters were quite rare.
She would hold out for a creature she could breed with. Shadirra wouldn't be lonely then. She began to stroke her clit lazily as she smiled, trying to imagine the look her mother's face would have upon seeing Shadirra on all fours, tail raised, a purple scaled juggernaut pounding into her.
Shadirra giggled, she could just imagine it. Her sister on the other hand would just give her a wink and a thumbs up, telling her to go for it. Mmm... sexy thoughts of being mated made the itch return. With a happy purr Shadirra took her tail in hand again, putting it back where it belonged.
Considering how big an individual Behemoth's territory was, their scent had to be able to travel a long way to draw a male when a female was in heat. She hoped that the scent of her need would travel on the wind to the awaiting nose of a male. But she also hoped that he would take his time. Shadirra wanted to spend some good quality time with her tail.
Now to see how pistoning it up and down with her hand felt... |
Goo Symbiote Saga Romeo and Goo-liet
The surprised shrieks and panicked cries coming from the class room had quickly transformed into soft, wet, burbling sounds, muted cries of pleasure, and some not so muted cries of pleasure. What had meant to be a study of biology was still such, but in this case the students were far more interested in studying each others' biology, as well as getting a first hands on look at a para-symbiotic species, as well as first hand experience in egg laying.
The instigators of the sudden outbreak of spontaneous gelatinous symbiosis and the resulted rapid pregnancy and oviposition that had several members of the football team passed out and unconscious over the sudden perceived blow to their manliness. After all, not only were they pregnant, but laying eggs as well.
But over all, most seemed to be rather enjoying it, and rather then sit back and enjoys the fruits of their labours, the first two hosts of the goo symbiotes snuck from the classroom, intent on making more. D, the furred dragon, and Billy, the kobold, darted quickly down the hall. The goo that now made up their bodies had eaten their clothes some time before, and neither had the concentration to use the stuff to take the shape of clothing.
"Man, that was fun." Billy said with a grin, "The looks on their faces when the eggs hatched."
D blushed, the tan-blue of his face gaining a purplish tone, "I dunno, I think I like the hands on method more."
The kobold sighed, "Well, I wouldn't know about that! And it's not like you're an expert in putting eggs in others with that thing, you've only done it with me!"
D shrugged, "Well, maybe we ought to go and get more experience? We'd be doing people a favour after all." the dragon said as he began to stroke his belly, rounded by the presence of eggs and goo.
"Well, yeah, I can't believe how mmm... how g... mmm.... how great this feels." Billy added, stroking something else, "Oooh, I feel more eggs coming out."
"Dammit," D muttered, "I told you not to touch it!"
"Well, I can't help it!" Billy pouted.
The dragon grabbed his partner in crime by the offending organ and dragged him off into the nearest men's room.
-o-
Pulsar paced back and forth, the feathered crest atop his head standing upright with nervousness and agitation. He tried to coax it down, and failing that, securing it beneath his hat. But neither did any good. He sighed loudly and looked up at the balcony nearby.
"Come on, Fortune, I need to get this done!" he shouted, his fox-squirrel friend was supposed to help him with his lines from the upcoming production of Romeo and Juliet, with Pulsar having landed the male lead.
"No!" called Fortune, from behind the scenes on the elevated platform behind the balcony.
"Why not?" Pulsar called, the rate of his nervous pacing increasing.
"Because someone could walk in any time!" the equally nervous fox-squirrel called back.
"So? It's not like they're going to recognize you!"
"There aren't any other yellow and black fox-squirrels on campus, come to think of it, I don't think there are any other fox-squirrels on campus, period!"
"Oh come on!"
"I still don't see why I have to wear the dress." Fortune complained.
"I need this to be as close to the real thing as possible. I just can't have you up there reading the lines!"
"You can't see the room without your glasses, so why did you say I had to wear the dress?"
"I never said you had to wear the dress! I just said you had to wear something the same color! It was your idea to wear the dress!"
Fortune sighed and stepped out onto the balcony, "Well, put your glasses on and tell me how I look in it, anyway."
Nothing but silence came from below.
"Pulsar?" the fox-squirrel repeated, leaning over the edge of the balcony and peering down into the theatre, looking for his bright red friend.
-o-
Pulsar was rather puzzled, as he found himself in a rather strange predicament. Not only had he fallen through one of the trap door in the stage, not only was he hanging upside down with his pants around his ankles, and not only was his red and black shaft being stroked, but he had a rather strange, cool, somewhat minty tasting substance wriggling around inside his mouth.
The pressure of his weight and the pushing of his bunched up pants was too much for his slip on, costume department buckled shoes to take. He plunged to the floor, or would have if something soft and squishy hadn't been beneath him.
Pulsar sat up, finding himself on the rather round tummy of a bluish dragon with a tremendous erection.
"Dreadfully sorry," he said with a giggle, "I didn't mean to get the drop on you."
Feeling a little bit strange in the head, he began to chuckle at his own pun.
"Well, I can think of a little something that you could do to make it up to me." D purred, coaxing the drugged cardinal off of his belly and onto the floor.
Pulsar gasped as D's cool body was suddenly atop his own. Usually he wasn't so open to something like this, but it wasn't like he hadn't ever thought about something of the like before. He'd hoped to snap a few pictures of Fortune in the Juliet dress for his own entertainment later, since the lithe fox-squirrel did look so very cute, and would be even cuter in girl's clothes.
He moaned softly as something cool and slippery slid into his rear, something similar wrapping around his member, engulfing it. It was like a cool, thick fluid, gripping him, but at the same time mobile, pliable, allowing him to thrust into its soft depths. He looked down, finding the dragon's tail half turned to a sort of liquid, Pulsar' member somehow embedded in the stuff.
"Umm... just don't make a mess of the shirt, okay?" he asked, eyes half lidded, gasping with arousal and need, "It's dry clean only."
The cardinal felt something in the goo-dragon's cock, something pressing up against him, something that had no business being able to fit.
But it did, and then dry cleaning was only the least of his problems.
-o-
"You look cute." Billy said with a smile, admiring Fortune's pink-clad rump as the fox-squirrel bent over the edge of the balcony.
Fortune spun upon hearing the familiar voice, his eyes wide. "Billy!" he scolded, "Don't sneak up on me like..."
The admonishment ceased as Fortune looked over his boyfriend's altered body. It was translucent, a bit bluer than the last time the fox-squirrel had laid eyes upon him. In addition there was a rather strange roundness in the kobold's middle, a thickness to the legs, and a thickness to... something else that wasn't entirely unpleasant.
Fortune couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight, "Is... that for me?" he asked, blushing.
"Oh yeah." Billy said with a wide grin, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Fortune's waist, pulling the fox-squirrel against him.
"You look... different..." Fortune whispered, resting his head on Billy's shoulder, "Want to tell me what happened?"
"I'd rather show you, it's not painful, it feels a bit weird at first, and there's the whole egg laying thing, but I don't think that'll be a problem for you." he said with a chuckle.
Indeed there was not, at the mention of eggs, the faint stirring beneath the skirt upon seeing a sleek, sexy, naked kobold accelerated to quickly reach critical mass. Fortune's blush deepened as his lover reached down to stroke the bulge beneath his dress.
"I thought you'd like that." Billy said with a chuckle, giving Fortune's cheek a playful lick with his long tongue.
"Oh geez..." Fortune whispered, trying to pull away, "C'mon, not here, not in the theater, and definitely not in this dress!"
"Why not?" Billy asked, the disappointment evident in his voice, "You look really good in the dress."
Fortune smiled at the words, though his blush continued to deepen, "Really?"
Billy nodded and let the fox-squirrel go, allowing Fortune to turn slowly, showing off the dress. The fox-squirrel's gaze, however, remained on Billy's member, which began to leak at the sight of Fortune's little show.
"Is... is that normal?" Fortune asked, pointing at the thick stream of blue goo leaking from the tip of Billy's shaft.
The kobold laughed, "It is now."
The fox-squirrel reached out and gave Billy's belly a poke, his finger sinking in, the goo giving the finger a soft suck that made Fortune blush even more.
"Better stop that before you end up redder than Romeo down there." Billy teased.
"Oh geez!" Fortune said, and tried to pull Billy back stage, where the large, dripping kobold erection wouldn't be seen.
"Nah, don't worry about it. I think D has him occupied at the moment. And besides, I think it would be fun to be caught."
The fox-squirrel couldn't help himself, he dropped to his knees and tentatively licked at the blue goo that leaked from his boyfriend. Billy gave a soft moan of pleasure as Fortune's tongue traced over his ovipositor and Fortune gave a similar soft moan as the tasty goo slid down his throat.
"I think I ought to plug this up before the rest of you leaks out." Fortune said with a grin, his blush beginning to fade. Once a kobold got an idea into his head, it was best just to go along with it. The texture of Billy's cock was different, softer, smoother, quite interesting. It was also strangely soft, even when erect. But quite fun, easily allowing the length to fit into Fortune's mouth.
The blue goo was almost intoxicating, the flavor and texture making Fortune crave more, the coolness settling into his belly. Billy reached down, gently gripping the fox-squirrel's ears, gently rubbing the lightly furred backs with his thumbs.
"Oooh..." Billy moaned, "I like that, but do you know what I'm going to like even more?"
Fortune shook his head, his eyes closed, all that mattered to him suckling on the sweet organ in his mouth.
The grip on the fox-squirrel's ears tightened to a playful tug, "This!" Billy said, beginning to expel the egg from his belly.
The fox-squirrel's eyes shot open as he felt something large and solid press up against his muzzle. He whimpered softly, thinking the object too large to fit, but he was suddenly distracted by a pair of hands pulling up his dress, tugging up his tail and... removing the pink silk panties that he had that matched the dress.
"Mine wasn't much fun." D said with a sigh, "He seemed to have a bit of a problem with the thought of an egg going into a bird. Quite a shame, I always thought it was a rather egg-celent feeling."
Billy rolled his eyes and moaned softly, "Mmm... I don't think Fortune minds sharing the experience. What do you think, cutie? The more eggs, the merrier?"
The fox-squirrel nodded, his eyes narrowing as he wondered where exactly the egg that had been pushing its way into his muzzle the moment before had gone. He felt a strange new weight in his belly, but there was no way that the hard shelled egg could have made its way past his jaws and down his throat so easily. It just wasn't possible.
Thoughts of what was and was not possible left the fox-squirrel's mind as D's thick, plentiful ovipositor slipping inside him, complete with its own supply of thick, cool goo.
Fortune felt the bodice of his dress beginning to grow tight as more and more goo flowed into him. He moaned softly, sandwiched between a pair of goo-dripping ovipositors. He felt eggs being pushed into him from both ends; D's large, soft eggs, and Billy's smaller, more solid ones.
The dress began to feel uncomfortably tight as the eggs entered him, but the coolness of the goo seemed to be spreading, and that made things feel a bit looser. The large and small eggs seemed to meet in his middle, causing a powerful sensation that made Fortune shiver, his muscles tensing.
He felt himself erupt with climax, his seed dribbling down the dress in thick, white rivulets, but the flow didn't decrease. Though he couldn't see, each gush of cum was slightly more blue than the last, until a final gush of blue goo left Fortune's enlarged ovipositor.
Still gripping the two members tightly, coaxing more goo from his lovers, Fortune felt the stuff consume him, alter him, transform him to better carry and spread the gift.
Knowing the fondness Billy had for the dress, the goo symbiote left most of it alone, eating only the bits that would be uncomfortably tight, mostly the bodice strings. Fortune was now very fluid, his body able to shape itself at his will, but there was one aspect none of the goo-filled could change, their rounded bellies, where the bulk of the goo, and all of the eggs laid.
Fortune felt his belly swell deliciously, soft, sensitive roundness making him purr. His legs grew thicker, more muscular, the goo solidifying into crystalline bones and thickening in places to become muscle, making the goo-host's increased weight easier to move.
The fox-squirrel's tail thickened as well, a hefty weight to balance the bulk of his belly.
Billy tried to withdraw his ovipositor, but he was stopped by Fortune's soft growl, he wasn't going to relinquish his prize just yet.
"I..." Billy gasped as Fortune renewed his interest, "I think we've made a monster."
D winced and cried out as Fortune put his new fluid form and flexibility to use, milking and caressing the furred dragon's massive length.
"Th... this was your idea!" D groaned.
"W-well I certainly wasn't all horny like this when I started laying eggs!" Billy protested.
Sandwiched between them, his new ovipositor leaking slime, preparing for its first egg, Fortune grinned, looking forward to a future with his goo-symbiote, he was already making a list of people to give his eggs to.
It was a very long list.
-o-
Pulsar peeked out from behind the curtain, watching the trio. He didn't particularly want to join in. Truth be told he found watching just as much, if not more fun.
He'd awoken and found himself a bit different, but it didn't really matter. It felt nice, and the huge egg going inside him hadn't hurt him or anything. Though if he was going to play Romeo, he was going to have to get a new shirt, since his egg-filled tummy hung out of this one.
But that wasn't a problem right now, there was something sexy to watch not too far away, and what did it matter if he was leaking bright red goo and red and black speckled eggs instead of the thick, white goo of a somewhat similar nature.
Besides, the cast of Phantom of the Opera would be here to rehearse in about an hour or so, and the red eggs blended well with the red curtains.
Pulsar giggled, at this rate the angel of music would be more like...
He began to laugh, looking at a handful of red goo.
"More like an angel of mucus." he snickered. |
Adjust the tie, check the shirt for any wrinkles, adjust the suit so that it hugs the form just perfectly enough to keep people guessing if something is hidden underneath. Snap the fingers and call for the help to provide whatever assistance they could, scurrying around at her feet trying to be slightly useful and yet failing miserably; she didn’t keep those things around for their ability to get anything done though, the lizardess just enjoyed watching them flail in their pitiful attempts at getting some attention out of her. It always made her feel wanted in that odd way that only having subservient slave creatures could.
Still, she had more important things to do than attend to a group of kobolds that barely even reached her knees, let alone get remotely close to the size they needed to be to even so much as capture a single sideways glance from her; tonight was board meeting night, yet another opportunity for Aleksi to put herself on display and cow her supposed peers into submission, again, through sheer force of presence. Not like they had any choice in the matter; they may have moral compunctions regarding the large number of black sites that the company hadn’t been running ever since the lizardess took over the mantle of CEO, or the wide range of equally-secretive and non-existent projects that weren’t generating oodles of profit from sales that didn’t actually take place, but trying to raise their voice to raise an objection meant doing so to her. And while plenty of those spineless, gutless cowards might be happy to plan her downfall when she wasn’t in the room, even so much as staring at her directly was far beyond the capabilities of any of them.
She liked that notion, it made her smile. To know that all it took was to step into a room for the temperament of all those within to be quenched, smashed to bits and promptly ground up into a fine powder for her to blow through an open window. She’d made a game out of it too, just sitting down in her fancy chair and waiting for someone else to start talking, only to shift her head to face them and stare them down, hoping that someone, some day, would garner the courage required to actually keep speaking after she did so; none had so far, but Aleksi still did it, rolling the dice each time… and that day wouldn’t be any different.
The meeting had been called by one of the junior partners, who expressed a “pronounced worry” regarding some of the operations that had been expanded into the southeastern Pacific, specifically the parts where the company was allegedly diverting funds for the creation of airstrips designed to bring in materials to help construct “large-scale, military-grade fortifications” that were “excessively visible” from satellite imaging. Now, Aleksi knew for a fact she couldn’t possibly explain that away, not even with her own brand of exquisitely-crafted bullshit, but that was the thing.
She didn’t need to.
On the way over to the meeting room, her kobolds ensured that the final touches were put in place in order to maximize the impact the ten-foot lizardess would have on walking through the door. It wasn’t enough that everything in the upper level of that building had been built to her specifications, leaving all of her “peers” seriously undersized compared to the upholstery and furniture, but she had to know for certain that all eyes were on her. Thus, her little helpers “adjusted” her clothes, opening up the buttons on her shirt so that her cleavage spilled out just enough to be impossible to notice, tightening the belt so that her hips flared out even more, picking away at the seams to leave them just vulnerable enough to rip properly once she had to pull out her lewder tricks.
They were quite useful in that regard at least; bunch of horned-up, lustful little ‘bolds whose existence revolved around servicing their “goddess”, of course they were happy to get their hands on her. At least they knew when to back down; a single clap of her hands and an angry stare was all that was needed for the crowd of kobolds to disperse back to their quarters, lest they have a repeat of what happened to Torz a couple of months prior. Still hadn’t recovered.
A moment before entering the room, Aleksi undid her tie even further; the only reason it was there was for the entrance anyway, where she would take it off and throw it at the closest member of the Board, so there was no point keeping it in place any longer. The giantess took a step forward and swung the door open, every single eye in the room instantly turning to look at her, transmitting just the right amount and kind of information back into their brains to have a blush develop beneath each pair; Aleksi herself made sure to accentuate her curves by deliberately sashaying with each step, before sitting down at the very end of the table and swivelling a couple of times around on her chair. It was a childish move, sure, but it just served to drive the point home that she could literally do whatever she wanted to “denigrate” that meeting’s “standards of decorum” and there wasn’t a single thing anyone could do about it. ‘Twas only then that she noticed the tie was still hanging loose from her neck and onto her cleavage, though given what she was going to have to do eventually, Aleksi figured it’d be best if it stayed there.
As usual, she said nothing. The lizard just sat there, staring at the three dozen or so members of the Board of Directors, waiting for one of them to take a stand and try to say something against her. She took special notice of one of them in particular, the little mouse who had called the meeting in the first place, and was now attempting to blend into the environment as he conspicuously avoided looking in Aleksi’s direction. The giantess didn’t even try to hide how much she was enjoying it, licking her lips openly and even being so bold as to occasionally grope one of her breasts in a way that could charitably be described as “somewhat discrete”, not that it stopped anyone from seeing it for what it was. It was all part of the game, all part of the performance that she put on each and every time she was called to that room; they demanded to speak with her, so she presented herself and waited to be yelled at, and yet surprisingly, always had to start the conversations herself. Funny how that worked.
Not a single peep came from her captive audience, whose spines had all mysteriously vanished and were nowhere to be seen. A few dared to sneak a couple of glances in her general direction, but never anything more than that; to go further would be to confront her, to engage in conflict with a woman they knew they couldn’t measure up to, and that would be naught but folly to a group of, effectively, worthless corporate executives. It made for a wonderful soirée at least; if not for that meeting, Aleksi would probably be sitting around in her bedroom watching trashy television. Then again, shit TV would probably be more entertaining than sitting in a silent room for upwards of an hour, so the lizardess began to check her wristwatch every once in a while; as soon as fifteen minutes passed, she would make the first move herself.
As was to be expected, someone in the room cleared their throat, presumably in an attempt to start saying something, and Aleksi quickly scanned her audience for whoever it may have been, identifying the source as one of the people she herself put in charge of a research subsidiary somewhere in the middle of sub-Saharan Africa. The young man very rarely spoke up at all, given the tenuous position he was in, and that he would dare think to get the first word in was actually enough to slightly annoy the lizardess, whose stare could probably pierce through reinforced steel with how intense it was; predictably, the little cat quieted down and said nothing more, sinking into his seat in an attempt to pass by unnoticed for the rest of the meeting. Content in her dominance once again, Aleksi sat back on her chair and resumed her passive observation, absentmindedly playing with her loose tie.
A tie that gave her an idea. It wasn’t every day that she got so many people in one place who all had to pay attention to her, so why not kill two birds with one stone and enjoy herself during work hours? After all, those nanites she had injected into her bloodstream a couple of weeks prior had worked wonders during her more private hours, so surely they should be capable of doing so during more official ones; besides, with the amount of cleavage she was already sporting, adding a little bit more to it wouldn’t really hurt, plus it served as a wonderfully effective intimidation tactic in those vanishingly rare occasions she’d had to try it out.
As such, the imposing giantess allowed the nanoscopic machines coursing through her to start congregating in two very specific spots on her body. Suddenly, her chest began to feel hot, a comfortable warmth that filled her just as much metaphorically as it did physically; with the nanites replicating at their maximum allowed speed, it wouldn’t take too long before her tits began to swell outwards with renewed mass, very quickly filling up her entire shirt, pushing heavily against her bra and straining the fabric to the point where it began to audibly groan. Aleksi made sure the expansion was kept at a reasonably slow place though; growthsplosions where she lost control of herself and ended up buried by a pair of body-sized mounds as both of her hands were squished by a set of thighs thick enough to smash through doors while pleasuring her nethers were fine and all, but those were better left for behind closed doors. What she wanted here was something to cow her Board of Directors into submission, and keeping her growth at a state where they’d have to keep looking to make sure that it was happening was the best thing she could do in that regard…
… at least at first. Even the most unobservant among them would eventually notice something was off, since even an inch every few seconds added up to create a bust that spilled obscenely from her much-too-tight shirt, riding lower and lower against her chest and closer to the table they were all sitting at. Aleksi even went as far as to deliberately ignore it happening; she could’ve very easily brought her hands to her tits to openly grope them, but it made for a far better scene if she instead kept her fingers interlocked right in front of her face, as if she wasn’t relying on her peripheral vision to inspect her slow swelling almost as much as she was observing her peers for their reactions. It was a shame she hadn’t decided to stuff those things behind buttons; would’ve been great to see what those stuffy executives would do once those things started flying off after being kept on the edge of breaking for however long it took.
And still, none of them said anything, giving the lizardess plenty of reasons to keep bloating, even past the point where her areolae became visible and her nips bulged out so much against her shirt and suit that their shape was practically unimpeded by her attire. Everyone in there could hear the cloth groan, complaining loudly as it was torn apart at the seams, ripping open to vent some of the soft flesh desperate to bulge out from within. There was more skin and scale visible than hidden at that point, with the squished cleavage widening and deepening as Aleksi’s clothes ceased being able to keep her contained; though they fought valiantly, they had their limits, and about five or so minutes after the lizardess first allowed her tits to start swelling outwards, the Board was treated to the sound of her business shirt loudly ripping apart, Aleksi’s tits smacking against her torso before flopping out from her open suit. They were past the halfway point to her navel and still growing, their underside already resting against the varnished surface of the table, now forced to billow outwards as they smushed against the wooden furniture. By the end of it all, they were left big enough to hang down to her waist and jut out a good foot or so from either side of her torso, should Aleksi stand up, and given the way she was sitting, everyone else was left looking at a pair of breasts big enough to leave only their boss’ face visible.
It was at that point that the giantess decided that enough was enough. If no one was going to say anything, she wasn’t about to sit there and do nothing for goodness knows how long… especially not now that she’d inadvertently made herself horny enough to have her hands almost subconsciously move towards her nips, unashamedly playing with them using her index and thumb until they began to harden, and her arousal started to slip out of her control.
“You dragged me all the way over from my penthouse, presumably because you wanted to shout at me for turning this company around,” she declared, making everyone else present wince, “and yet now I sit here, wasting my time, when I could be using it doing literally anything else remotely useful. Our operations in Sicily aren’t going to run themselves, you know?”
She could feel herself growing hotter again. Her hands couldn’t stop, massaging the front of her breasts, pulling and tugging on her nubs, only egging her on further. She would start growing soon enough.
“So unless any of you have anything of worth to say, I’m calling this meeting off,” Aleksi carried on, having to work double-time to keep her voice under control, “and heading back home to actually do something worthy of my limited time. Anyone?”
The question wasn’t meant to be answered, especially not given that the CEO was now openly pleasuring her own tits and seemed unable to stop, even after getting up… and revealing that her lower body had surreptitiously gone the same way as her upper half.
“Good,” she concluded, “then I guess we’re done. Please try not to call me again unless you have anything of note to say, or else I might feel inclined to reassign you to a more practical staffing post.”
With that, she turned around to face the door and promptly marched out, hip-checking it on the way out in order to shut it close. Her breathing was labored, her brow sweating, the blush on her cheeks becoming brighter; the increased sensitivity of her bust constantly caught her by surprise, and now she couldn’t stop herself. Her hands danced across her breasts, squishing and kneading them to her heart’s content, squeezing them to stimulate further growth. She was going to be buried by those things and moaning loudly enough for the whole building to hear soon.
Back to her room. |
Pleasure Snake Part III
"So that is what I have in mind for you, Richard." The Doctor finished, stroking the glass lizard's scaled, sensitive body with an equally scaled hand. The snake-like Richard sighed softly with delight at the sensation.
Compared to the humiliation, pain, and shame of egglaying, the offer she had been given seemed to be quite tolerable in comparison. Perhaps because Richard had already experienced the act that her new 'job' would entail and found that she liked it. Really liked it.
It wasn't like the way her body overwhelmed her with lust to the point where she was forced to cooperate, though it had started out like that. The feel of warmth, moisture, and tightness over her soft, sensitive, scaled skin was heavenly. The sensation struck a chord within Richard, it felt like something that had come from the depths of her own mind, a desire that had never been given so much as a single conscious thought.
It wouldn't be bad at all, at least when the other option was being made full of eggs over and over and over again. Richard wondered what the recurrent theme of sexual humiliation for all the Doctor's captives was supposed to accomplish.
She supposed that all the captives were essentially living sex toys of one sort or another. Serving as a literal one wouldn't be much different. And the Doctor promised to restore her to a more human-like form in a few months time if she cooperated. Richard missed her arms and legs.
If all she had to look forward to in her future was clutch after clutch of pleasurable, painful eggs, then Richard was sure she would go crazy before a month was over. This seemed like a much easier path.
She looked up at the Doctor and nodded her head. She would be what her captor called a 'pleasure snake,' her role was to enhance the pleasure that the other captives felt from the acts of mating they were to carry out as part of their punishment. She would help them, in a way she would make them feel good, help to ease their settling into a new life.
The Doctor chuckled softly and removed a small, glowing green object from a drawer of the desk. It looked rather like a translucent egg filled with shimmering fluid. The sight of it made Richard's mouth water.
"Now, by skipping meals you've burned off a great deal of your mass in your transformation, eating this will not only make you the proper size to serve as a pleasure snake, but it will add a few things to your form to make use of you as pleasurable as possible. There will be no pain and no discomfort, just a strange sensation." The Doctor said.
Richard opened her maw, eager to swallow the egg. She hadn't eaten anything in quite some time, only eating a single bowl of 'food' that resulted in her rapidly being filled with eggs. Well... and a belly full of her brother's seed not to long ago. The glass lizard blushed at the thought and quivered slightly, her body recalling the wonderful sensations she had felt sandwiched between her two brothers.
The egg didn't really taste of anything, but the smooth shell allowed it to easily slide down Richard's gullet, cracking as Richard's muscles tightened to squish the egg and make it smaller and more compact.
She felt a tingling warmth spread throughout her body, followed by a gentle tugging that seemed to be happening at once all over her flesh. Richard gasped at the sensation, her body growing bigger, thicker, longer. She felt her arousal begin to raise, not the forced, needful ache of the lustful heat she had been stricken with, but something else.
Softer, more gentle, pleasant pressures in her most sensitive areas, areas that seemed to comprise most of her body. Her scaly skin, her mouth and tongue, and especially her sex. But to those places something new was added two-thirds of the way down her plentiful tail. A pressure began to build inside of her and Richard felt something slither out of her.
Turning her head and a portion of her upper body, Richard looped around to see the new addition. It made her blush deepen, she was male again, at least in part. Much like the member her brother Kyle had. It looked a little silly; as it was nearly as thick as her own tube-shaped body. It was far too large to be natural on a creature Richard's size.
She watched as her scales grew even smoother, her body nearly as smooth as glass. But her attention was drawn primarily to the places that began to fill out on her back and sides, strange lumps and bumps and rings and ridges, adding a pleasurable texture to her otherwise smooth body.
The Doctor picked Richard up, scaled hands caressing Richard's smooth and sensitive skin, making the pleasure snake pant with delight. "In time you'll be able to shift your texture around to better suit those you pleasure." The Doctor said softly, "You will be a wonderful and versatile lover for anyone who uses you. But for the moment I've given you a configuration that I find quite fun."
The Doctor picked Richard up, clawed fingertips delicately teasing the pleasure snake's member. Richard had only the faintest awareness that they were moving. Richard only opened her eyes when she heard the soft creak of bedsprings.
The pleasure snake gasped in awe at the sight of her captor. It seemed that the Doctor did not only use her methods of full body transformation on those she kidnapped, but on herself as well.
Richard was thankful for the perpetual darkness the Doctor kept her office in. If he had seen her as she truly was the first night, he would have shot her out of fright.
The odd movement Richard had seen behind the desk had been the tip of the Doctor's tail, the serpentine length quivering instinctively, on tree dwelling serpents it was a warning that there was an angry serpent who did not want to be bothered. But with merely air, the tailtip had made no noise.
The Doctor was an amalgamation of features from many reptile and amphibian species; thick, heavy scales on most of the body, softer, smaller scales on the belly and breasts, becoming the long plates of thick underbelly scutes below the waist.
Richard found her form incredibly sexy, her male human mind and her hermaphroditic reptile instincts agreeing on a form that they mutually found attractive. The Doctor seemed more serpent than human, as she had no legs, instead her locomotion was provided by a thick, heavy, serpentine tail.
Above the tail was a scaled framed that would be the envy of any supermodel, muscular, well proportioned, and featuring perfect curves; though the Doctor's blunt muzzle, protruding fangs, long, serpentine neck, and trio of frilled crests rather than hair that would likely cause shrieks of horror on any supermodel that happened to awaken with them.
The Doctor smiled at Richard's admiration of her form, "You didn't think I would let my pets have all the fun of beautiful, bestial bodies, now did you?" she asked with a chuckle, "I've tried a number of different shapes over the years, but I keep coming back to this one, the feel of the floor beneath my tail, the way I can taste the air, and most of all..."
She sighed softly; bucking her hips as a long, thick, blue length of flesh slowly emerged from a slit that Richard had assumed was the doctor's cunny. The pleasure snake's mouth began to water at the sight of the erect organ; it was slightly bigger around than Richard was, and featured a wide, blunt head.
The Doctor stroked her semi-equine member and grinned, "Of course I've added a few mammalian traits here and there. Go ahead, Richard, show me how badly you want to be a pleasure snake."
Richard slithered down between the Doctor's plentiful breasts, down over her belly, and slowly and sensually curling her body around the lamia's member, pushing herself up a little higher for each loop she made around the thick, warm organ. Richard's forked tongue flicked out, taking in the Doctor's scent. It calmed her, relaxed her, made her even more eager to take that big cock into her mouth and throat.
She teasingly tickled her master's member as she climbed up higher and higher, drawing a soft moan from the Doctor. At long last she reached the top, opening her jaws wide, feeling a soft pop as her jaw naturally dislocated, allowing her to take in the comparatively large 'meal.'
It slid so easily into Richard, the pleasure snake having no gag reflex to trigger, her body stretched to accommodate the Doctor's mutant manhood. The presence of the cock inside her brushed up against small pleasure centers in her throat, and girth of it stretching her made Richard's oh so sensitive skin light up in delight.
It seemed all too soon before Richard's snout met scaled skin. The pleasure snake found herself craving more. Feeling a warm wet trickle from the length of her body that was not occupied with the Doctor's maleness, Richard found herself moving her tailtip around, more flexible and agile than most serpents, allowing her the fine, minute control required to pierce her master's awaiting femsex, inch after inch of sensitive tail disappearing into the opening.
The gentle pressure against Richard's tail was just as it had been the previous night, soothing, comforting, it seemed to complete her. Inside such a place was where her tail belonged, her rippling movements bringing another creature pleasure, just as that creature would pleasure her.
Richard's own member slide across her underbelly as more and more of her body was pushed into the Doctor, and much to the pleasure snake's delight, she found that its position with her femsex lined up perfectly, allowing her to fill herself, every sensitive portion of her body filled and caressed by the act of giving another pleasure.
"Aaaah... good girl, Richard..." the Doctor sighed, reaching down and wrapping both hands around the pleasure snake and her own member. She stroked slowly, her grip able to be felt through the pleasure snake's body, Richard serving once more as a sort of living condom.
Almost against her will, Richard felt her fear begin to fade away. Her fright, her discomfort, her anger at the Doctor, she felt it all evaporating as she gleefully suckled her captor's cock. The Doctor's soft moans and pleasured cries, as well as the rapidly increasing pace at which she stroked the two of them made Richard feel strange. She shouldn't really feel happy about what she was doing.
After all, she had been kidnapped, held prisoner, raped by a snake, forced to birth eggs, and now she was a living sex toy. But the result was strangely liberating. She didn't have to worry about managing the farm anymore, didn't have to do so out of a sense of obligation to her family. She wouldn't have to worry about money or clothes or taxes or anything like that.
All she had to do in order to serve her purpose now was to give and receive the delicious, addictive, intoxication pleasure that washed through her. She would always have a goal in front of her and purpose to serve.
Richard remembered the fearful, crushing despair she had felt after her transformation. Now she had the ability to lessen that fear in others. And perhaps she could even help to make impregnation more caring and affectionate. She had a cock now; she could easily be used by the Doctor to fill others with eggs. Maybe she could even work in tandem with Kyle?
The salamander's aphrodisiac slime would work so well to help calm Richard's future breeding partners. Their combination would be much more effective and efficient than either of them working on their own.
Richard's thought of aiding her master were put on hold as Doctor cried out, her grip tightening to an almost painful level as she thrust her hips HARD as she pulled Richard further down. Her inner walls clamped down deliciously on the pleasure snake's tail, and Richard felt herself climaxing along with the Doctor as thick, tasty jets of seed spewed out into her belly.
That was only the first of many climaxes Richard received that night, by the time the Doctor's lust was finally sated, Richard felt rather like a water balloon, heavy and sloshing with seed. The pleasure snake was too tired to even pull her tail from the Doctor's snatch, requiring the lamia to slowly pull her toy out by herself.
The Doc hugged her sticky, worn out sex toy. She always enjoyed it when a pet accepted its fate and became eager to cooperate. Once a pet agreed to a treatment it made things so much easier. After all, if a pet had no objection to performing a certain task, there was no harm in giving the pet a bit of a mental push, now was there?
After all, she was just helping things along, making the process speedier and more efficient. A happy and eager pet was a productive pet, and it made her job a great deal easier. Of course some of her clients were adamant on making the new pet suffer as much as possible.
But suffering and struggle made things messy and inefficient. The Doctor wondered what sort of an upbringing resulted in the terrible things that some people wanted to inflict on those that damaged the environment. They were very... creative, and also very angry.
The Doctor got up from her bed and slithered out into the hallway, intent on putting Richard in a proper enclosure to rest and recover. She was quite sure that Richard would make an effective impregnator for use on the 'general' pets that didn't require any sort of 'special' treatment. Her other pleasure snake enjoyed being cruel far too much for her tastes.
But ah well, money was money, and she was helping the environment and helping declining species repopulate; though she was getting rather worried about one of her clients, the one that had commissioned the transformations of Richard and his two brothers.
Cutting Richard up, feeding him to his father, and then having him re-grow from the severed tail section seemed exceptionally nasty. Some clients and more money and hate than sense, and the Doctor had few ideas of what to do with such people.
Perhaps a few years as a lioness, birthing and suckling cubs would mellow that particular client out. Or a ligeress with lion or tiger based ovaries, larger cubs were healthier cubs, and there would be room for more of them. It would be more efficient. Yes, that seemed like the best course of action.
She opened the door to the enclosure and slithered inside, resting Richard down between the bald eagle, the alligator, and the human-like salamander, all of them asleep on the soft grass of the indoor habitat.
The Doctor smiled down at the sleeping foursome, a family reunited. She slithered off, closing the door as quietly as she could. Now why would someone want to do such horrible things to such a cute family? Now, what else could she do with a big, pregnant she-liger? Hmm....
Such possibilities. |
He didn’t think he’d take so well to these new implants, but he was happy to have been mistaken. They might’ve taken a bit longer than expected in order to calibrate, but as soon as that was done it was almost as if they’d always been there with how natural they felt, truly some of the company’s best work to date; the owl made a mental note to drop an extra-sizeable donation into their coffers whenever he had the chance to do so.
The previous mechanical augments he had installed on him were… functional, but not exactly to specification given what he had in mind for himself. Yes, they performed admirably and adapted to his body in ways that the first line never did, not to mention they provided a certain level of agility in flight that left him unmatched whenever he decided to take to the skies, but much like most cybernetic arrays of their sort, they didn’t really scale well; they were designed and built to function within certain specifications, and though they did so wonderfully well, they had no capacity for adaptation beyond it, nor could they be changed or swapped out on the fly, requiring extremely work-heavy intervention on the part of the robotics company that built them, or a mechanist worth their salt and in possession of several million dollars’ worth of advanced power tools. Given what Mephiston intended to accomplish, this just wouldn’t do; his implants needed to be as malleable as his organic half if he was to reach his size goals.
For quite a while, the owl had intended to start working out properly, bulking up in order to achieve the sort of physique that he occasionally spent far too long looking at whenever he happened to catch a glimpse of it somewhere online. It had always been out of his reach though; being half-mechanical as he was, he couldn’t really bulk up without having to constantly readjust his cybernetic parts, and that required so much time and resources that it felt like a daunting project purely on the basis of how high-maintenance it was. However, the very same company that had (effectively) rebuilt him had recently come out with a brand new line of augments based on bleeding edge (and highly experimental) nanite technology, designed to not only be fully modular like their previous lines, but able to be modified “on the go” via the use of specialized injectors delivering a slurry of automated nanomachines. It was nominally supposed to react to “semi-conscious” user input, allowing individuals with cybernetic augmentations to reshape themselves at will, assuming they allowed the nanites themselves to go through the several-week acclimation period within their bodies.
For Mephiston, this couldn’t have come at a better time, as the owl was dying for an opportunity to make good use of that gym membership he had gotten a few months prior; it was important to keep in shape in order to match up his organic bits with his cybernetic half, but every time he had to stop short of actually improving himself, it felt like a stab between the ribs at how much of a wasted opportunity it was… but not anymore. He signed up as soon as he heard about this new line of implants and, thanks to his record with the company, was fast-tracked as one of their “display models”, so long as he agreed to show up every other week for a photoshoot in order to serve as a living advertisement. The owl nodded along to everything the company requested; he had better things to do than waste his time with bureaucratic nonsense.
At home, he had something waiting for him, a special injector that he had acquired through less than legal means via the help of a “concerned friend”, so to speak. He wasn’t intending on making use of the proper nanites, nor was he in any way wanting to just wait for several weeks before finally grabbing hold of his destiny and moulding it to his liking. Instead, he had procured for himself an experimental line of nanomachines that were supposed to be extremely reactive and far faster-acting than the so-called “safe” alternative provided commercially; it wasn’t exactly available to the public, nor was anyone supposed to have them outside the walls of a very specific compound in the middle of the Arizona desert, but there was a vial in Mephiston’s home and he was going to use it properly. In fact, as he sat down on his bed, inspecting the brand new implants attached to him, he couldn’t help but tap his feet impatiently as he thought about what was going to happen, only kept back by the understanding that he had least had to try and give himself a full once-over before doing anything more drastic.
Still didn’t mean he couldn’t rush through it, giddy as could be at the prospect of finally bulking up and showing off some muscle for once; the injector was practically burning when he picked it up, sweat pouring down his brow as the dream of a lifetime was about to made a reality, no thoughts spared for how dangerous it was or how easily it could backfire on him. All he cared about was that mental image of himself as a hulking giant capable of tearing through walls without so much as a second thought, of his body going from merely athletic to so built-up that the mere mental image of it was enough to get his mind to start wandering to very lewd places and his muscles to clench as if by instinct, desperate to engorge themselves until reaching that dream size. He couldn’t wait any longer; with a swift motion of his left hand, he placed the injector into the correct port and pressed the right button to start the delivery of nanite fluid, holding it in place for as long as needed to ensure that every last nanoscopic machine was pumped into his body before yanking it out and throwing the autoinjector across the room, where it shattered into a thousand little pieces against a wall.
He didn’t have to do it, but he felt like he should; it fit the theme he was going for, the idea that he would soon turn into this enormous hulk of muscle mass that could barely control his own primal need to bulk up even harder, a tiny movie that he had conjured up for himself and had played inside of his head so many times that he could probably draw it all if only he had the slightest artistic inclination. Reality, however, was far more disappointing, refusing to give him what he wanted when he wanted it; there was no glorious explosion, no sudden transformation into an incredibly muscular version of himself, no broken bedsprings or shattered walls, just himself, sitting on his mattress, staring down at a body that refused to change… and was getting uncomfortably hot now that he came to think about it.
It wasn’t just his imagination either; his internal sensors were going off like crazy and warning him that his cybernetic implants were under extreme stress, practically shouting into his sensory cortex that something was dreadfully wrong and that “foreign bodies” had invaded the inner workings of his robotic half. For Mephiston though, things couldn’t be any more right; this was a sign that his plan had worked, that the experimental nanomachines actually did what they were advertised to do, and that the small fortune he spent on them hadn’t gone to waste! Immediately he got up, rushing to the bathroom where he kept a large mirror; if he was going to transform, he wanted to see it.
Mephiston could feel it on the way already, even if it was just subtle enough that he had to pay attention in between steps to make out what was happening. He felt heavier, more heavyset even, as if his body had suddenly grown denser and harder to move around, and yet rather than dragging himself each inch of the way to his destination, he found that not only was he perfectly capable of doing so, but that it was easier to move around than it had been before, like his whole body had been oiled up and given a tune-up, or like the air had simply grown more rarefied and less resistant to his motions. By the time he arrived in front of the mirror, the reason for this became obvious, enough that his eyes widened and his beak opened wide in equal-parts shock and unbridled joy, because he had finally gotten what he wanted.
It wasn’t even just a slight adjustment, not merely his musculature becoming more well-defined and eye-popping as he dreaded would happen, but something more entirely: he had genuinely bulked up, gaining muscle mass in far greater quantity than should really be possible in such a short notice, almost as if his many, many unspent gym hours had suddenly taken place and his physical form readjusted to this new alternate timeline he created for himself. He couldn’t help but look down at himself, at his rock-solid abs, at his bulging pecs, at his powerful arms and the incredibly thick biceps that only grew thicker when he decided to flex them; his was an Adonis-like physique that would make even the greatest of bodybuilders jealous purely from gazing upon it, and it had only been… a minute since his injection, perhaps even less?
The owl could still feel the heat coursing through him, his internal sensors still yelling at him that something was wrong and he should do something about it as the nanite fluid continued to wreak havoc across his cybernetics, modifying them to match this new body of his. It didn’t occur to him that this shouldn’t have taken place until the transformation happened again, this time right there in front of him, and by that point he couldn’t really bring himself to care about how the nanomachines were deliberately messing with his living half in addition to his mechanical one.
It started off with his robotic parts, with them bulging out as if being inflated from within, appearing bulbous and semi-organic for just a few seconds before the extra mass was distributed and settled in a far more natural manner, making his body look significantly lopsided after his cybernetic right side became sturdier and quite a bit larger, enough to force him into an uncomfortable leaning position for the second or two before the rest of his body caught up to the newest growth spurt… and what a way it caught up to it as well! If his mechanical section was impressive-looking with how natural it looked and how well it adapted to its size, then his proper body, his meat-and-bones physical form, became something of legend.
Mephiston instinctively bent down once he felt himself rise up towards the ceiling, hoping not to bang his head against it from how quickly he was ascending, every inch of his organic self burning with flames that left him feeling even more powerful than before, a raging inferno that made him want to scream out towards the heavens, that all may bear witness to just how good it felt to be transformed into a hulking giant capable of bending steel with his bare hands. Everything, from the sheer state of how sculpted and pristine his brand new form was, to the vascularity, even the (positively alarming) fact that the dividing line between his feathers and his mechanical augments had effectively been erased by the nanites fusing his two different halves together in a seamless merger of man and machine, everything contributed to leaving him feeling like a true god among his lessers.
He turned around, needing to see how he compared to the door after already having had some trouble squeezing through it on the way in, and was delighted to find that his head was now over the top of the frame, and his torso had become wider than the damned thing itself, leaving him unable to use it properly and probably well on the way to it becoming even more pitifully undersized now that he felt the by-then familiar heat begin to build up inside of him again. He wasn’t even thinking straight, not when the alarms going off inside of his head had begun to shut off one by one, replaced by a brand new voice that he didn’t recognize, the collective chorus of the experimental nanites telling him that everything was fine, everything was ok, and his job was now to push his body to its limits and show off to as many people as he could, to assert himself as a half-mechanical deity of raw power.
With his eyes half-lidded, Mephiston’s hands grabbed the sides of the door frame, and with so little effort that it left him legitimately surprised for a few moments, pulled the whole thing off the wall, crumbling a large section of it in the process! The owl ended up with broken bits of wood in his hands and a growing hole leading into the hallway outside the bathroom, and while he had initially envisioned himself walking out the front door and onto the streets below, it was quickly becoming obvious that it just wouldn’t happen that way.
It couldn’t, not with what he was feeling welling up inside of him. That warmth, that sensation of pressure, the knowledge that he was about to burst free of even this new and engorged form of his that he had dreamed of for years, the certainty that he was about to become something even greater and damn the consequences, damn the whole building and whoever happened to be in it! All he could feel, all Mephiston could think about was how the nanomachines inside his body were singing to him, soothing him with sweet nothings as they multiplied endlessly within his mechanical components, forcing them to grow larger and more misshapen before they once again settled into a greater, grander form, one that broke through the roof above his head and only failed to collapse the floor because there was nothing but solid foundation underneath it… a new form that would be mirrored on his organic half as soon as the nanite fluid was injected into his bloodstream, effortlessly augmenting his cells, muscles and tendons, turning them into better and more resilient versions of themselves.
Why should he worry about such paltry things as walking through façades and strolling down the street lifting cars and bending light poles into odd shapes when the very building around him was about to crumble underneath his growing magnificence? He could already feel the top of his back and shoulders pushing up against the second floor above him, screaming coming from his upstairs neighbor as they quickly hurried out of their own bathroom and ran down the stairs thinking it was an earthquake. Mephiston could feel as the structure containing him broke down once he stretched out his arms, flexing them and breaking through walls, both in his home and the ones around it. He could feel as the surge of nanites grew stronger, consuming the rubble and debris created by his ascension and transforming it into even more usable mass for his body to burgeon with.
He could feel it all, rushing into him and making him ever stronger, ever larger, ever more muscular and colossal.
And he wouldn’t stop. |
Designer Tail She itched her back, well as much as she could reach of it anyway. The skin burned where the tech had inserted the needles.
“Are you sure about this?” She asked, trying not to peel her skin off her own back.
The tech didn’t even look up from putting away the injectors. “Yeah, you’ll be fine in a few hours. Just give it time.”
“It just itches so much.” She whined, rubbing at the small of her back. She swore she could already feel a raised bump there.
The tech brushed off her complaints. “It’s normal, relax. In a few hours you’ll have a one-of-a-kind look.”
She “Yeah, until someone else does it.”
“No one else has ever asked for this, and honestly, I had to make up this batch special for you. I promise you’ll be a hit with this.” The tech finally finished stowing his gear.
Her gaze fell on him as she rubbed against a support beam in the apartment, her body on full display. It was clear he was trying not to stare at her naked body, not that he hadn’t had ample time to as he’d had her take off her clothes for the injections from her shoulders to her tail bone. She might have even been a little bad and wiggled a bit a few times to get his attention. He was a good-looking guy after all.
“Look, I need to go, I have another client waiting.” She nodded, a bit disappointed he wouldn’t take some advantage of her, but right now the itch was driving the thoughts of sex from her mind.
After he left, she turned to the bathroom. The full-length mirror on the door showed her back as definitely enflamed. There were small raised ridges starting to erupt from her spine, she could feel them pressing against her skin. She grimaced as the first one broke through, a dark tan color, not her favorite shade, but it worked for her. The heavy bones broke the skin, one after another as they trailed down her spine to her growing tail.
She could see her tail. The skin already broken as dark tan plates began to coat the length of it. Heavier and firmer, it began to swing free, new lengths adding as it began to drift towards the floor.
Shuddering slightly with the excitement she realized the plates were now coating the middle of her back, stretching between her shoulder blades downward, their dry hard exterior melding seamlessly between her spine and her new posterior. She wasn’t sure how long she stared as her body continued to change. Minutes? Hours? She wasn’t sure, nor was she sure she cared. She was fascinated by the appendage growing over her shapely posterior.
Not that she disliked her posterior. It was firm and well rounded in it’s own right, but designer tails were in. She didn’t want the cat tail or dog tail like most women went for. Nor something mildly exotic like a giraffe. No, she wanted something unique. Her smile brightened as the length began to sweep the floor, the tip spreading wide into a heavy boney pendulum.
She could feel it swaying, experimentally she gave it a swing only to have the pendulous growth slamming hard into the bathroom wall with a thud. She jumped slightly. Oh my, this was nice. No one was going to expect this at the party, certainly not from her. Carefully she pulled out the backless dress she’d chosen, custom designed to allow the tail to fit out the back, and pulled it up her curves, leaving her new back exposed, along with a good portion of the top of her ass. Not that she minded. She was always a bit of an exhibitionist, and tonight it was going to be clear she wasn’t wearing any panties either.
Licking her lips, she wondered who would be willing to try to take her home. She could tell she was already wet from just thinking about the new opportunities to be kinky. Her heavy tail swayed at the possibilities of lifting for the right guy. After all, who else would think to chose a dinosaur tail for a dinner party? And one so unique as an ankylosaurus?
She grinned as she finished tying the straps around her neck. With purse in hand, she began her descent to the streets below. She’d catch a ride to the party, and then the fun would begin. |
Altara's Addiction Episode I: The Ooze Creature
Altara ran through the dungeon, the monster in hot pursuit. Who'd ever have thought that a Bullette could be so moody? The huntress' booted feet made loud splashes in the standing water beneath her as she ran. The dungeon was wide, wide enough that the Bullette wouldn't have to squeeze to continue pursuing her. The human could hear the creature's angry roar echoing off the walls as it drew closer.
She rounded a corner, hoping the much larger creature wasn't anywhere near as agile as she herself was. It skidded as it attempted to turn the corner, plowing sideways into the wall, making the whole dungeon complex shake. She turned to watch the beast gain it's bearings, and even with the delay, it was quickly gaining on her.
She needed to find a small hole, or a narrow tunnel, or someplace where she could hide. The creature's armor plated skin was far too thick for her swords to damage. But no suitable sanctuary was to be found. The hallway ahead spread out into a large room with a shallow pond. There was no way that she was going to make it across the room without being run over by the rampaging beast behind her.
Altara was so occupied with looking behind her, she didn't notice the green-gray hand that reached up from beneath the water on the floor. Not even when it seized her leg. The ranger felt something cold and sticky on the bare skin of her leg, gripping her tightly. She saw the water covered bricks of the floor rushing up to meet her as she tripped, her foot finding no ground beneath her, only water. She saw the water meet her face, then she saw no more.
-o-
The ranger moaned, bringing her hand up to her achy head. Where she hurt she found wet, slimy globs that resisted any attempt for her to grab a hold of them, brush them off, or pull them away. She sat up, and found that her other wounds from her dungeon crawl had been 'bandaged' in a similar way. A semi-transparent gooey gray-green slime covering the wounded area. It somehow stuck to her, and managed to be too slippery to get any sort of hold on. But whatever it was, the pain was decreasing, and judging from the large gash of her leg from a goblin's dagger, it was causing them to heal too.
The light of her Everburning Torch illuminated the small room she was in. She was laying in several inches of water, which seemed to be dripping down from the walls and ceiling. Her backpack was nowhere in sight, and her Bag of Holding was no longer at her belt. Her swords were absent as well, all she had was the torch, stuck upright in the mud next to her.
Altara stood, picking up the torch, looking around the room for an exit. The original exit seemed blocked off by an old cave in, the only way in or out of the room seemed to be the large crack in the wall opposite the door. She entered it cautiously, the torch held out in front of her.
The crack appeared to lead out into a hallway lined with alcoves, where stone statues of monsters stood on pedestals. Altara hoped they were just statues, and not placed their by a Medusa, or the proud owner of a basilisk.
A glimmer out of the corner of her eye caught Altara's attention. She turned to face the source of the gleam, another statue, but different from the rest. Rather then simple stone, this one appeared to be fashioned out of jade. A radiant, bright green color. A good sized piece would make this trip worthwhile. If only she had her tools with her she could chip off the head and take it with her. Maybe she could wrench it off by herself?
The huntress reached out a hand to touch the jade statue, and found that it wasn't a statue at all. At her touch the gargoyle's eyes opened, her face reflected in the featureless green orbs. The creature leaned against Altara's hand, purring softly. The creature felt slick and slimy to the touch. In a few moments it went from being bright green in color to a dull green-gray.
Altara gasped softly as her fingers sunk into the creature's face. Her hand was filled with an odd sensation, a pleasant, warm, tingly feeling that seemed to go right through her body and straight to her pleasure centers. Just touching the creature made her feel good all over. It leaned forward to kiss her, its tongue sliding into her mouth.
It didn't taste bad, or good, or much like anything. It was just slick, wet, gooey, and felt real good. Altara's eyes half closed as she hugged the creature to her, pressing up against it, wanting to feel it all over her body, she wanted to feel the creature against every inch of her skin.
And then suddenly the sensation was gone, the creature had broken the kiss, and had moved away. Altara realized she'd been standing there for several seconds at least. Long enough for the creature to reach behind the pedestal and pick up her backpack and weapons. It held them out to her, head tilted to the side, looking at her curiously though those uniformly colored eyes.
"Thanks." Altara said with a nod, taking her things. The strange green-grey creature smiled at her then leaned back on its haunches watching the ranger. The huntress looked over the strange gargoyle-like beast, trying to figure out what it was. It was, if it stood up, perhaps a little bit taller then herself, it was humanoid and had a lithe build. It was uniform in color, that odd shade of green-grey.
The huntress reached out a hand to touch the creature again, preparing for the powerful, pleasurable sensation that came with it. As her fingers sank into the gelatinous mass of the creature's shoulder, there was a pleasant feeling, but not nearly as powerful as before. The creature's eyes closed and it began to purr happily.
It seemed to feel no discomfort as Altara pushed her hand in to the wrist, and judging from the loud purring, apparently it found the act enjoyable. She moved her hand downward, and while there was some resistance Altara found that she could easily move her hand around inside the creature's body.
She moved her hand downward, through the creature's torso. Its eyes widened and it gasped softly as Altara's hand slide through its chest. Her chest. There was a definite outward bulge that indicated breasts, as several inches of Altara's arm became embedded in the creature's body as well.
"Sorry." Altara said with a wince, removing her hand. Apparently the gargoyle found contact in that area sensual and erotic. The gargoyle stood up and yawned, stretching her body, literally making her limbs and torso longer and narrower. Gargoyle wasn't quite the proper term, as she didn't look at all fearsome or scary, and most definitely was not comprised of stone.
She looked more like a mixture between dragon and catfolk, a feline face and ears coupled with a lithe build, as well as large bat-like wings, horns, large claws on the hands and feet, a thick tail, and muscular digigrade legs.
The Dragoncat licked her lips and took Altara's hand in both of her own, bringing it back up to her breast, and pushing it inside. "Oh! Hey!" Altara protested, "I didn't mean it like that it was an... AH!"
The sensation return with a vengeance, filling Altara with a burning desire, a need to press up against the creature, to have it ooze over her, to caress her, stroke her, make love to her. She guided the huntress down a sitting position on the stone slab, wrapping her legs around the ranger's waist, pulling Altara's other arm to her other breast, pressing up against her.
The creature's arms lost definition, oozing down Altara's shoulders, oozing in through the neckline of her leather armor to return the favor, giving soft, sweet caresses over her breasts. The creature's body also sought out the ranger's own sex, the sensation of cool wetness pressing up against, then into eagerly awaiting netherlips.
"Mmmm... what's happening?" Altara moaned softly, looking up into the Dragoncat's smiling face. The ooze creature licked her forehead reassuringly, the tongue traveling downwards, seeking Altara's mouth. The creature's wings folded around her, essentially molding the creature to Altara's body, covering her entirely between neck and waist, easily seeping into the gaps of her armor to come into contact with Altara's skin.
The merest touch from the creature was enough to send pleasured shivers through the huntress' body, being so well covered sent her into the very throes of purest ecstasy. She would have been held immobile if the creature hadn't extended a portion of itself up inside her sex. It wriggle and writhed and oozed around inside of her cunt, making her howl and buck her hips wildly.
Altara felt the mass of slime inside of her growing, pulsing, stretching her wider, plunging in deeper. The ooze creature clung to her tightly, her entire mass gripping the ranger gently.
The Dragoncat broke the kiss, throwing her head back and roaring as she climaxed, pushing Altara over the edge into the same. The huntress felt something thick and warm shooting up inside of her. It wasn't cum, it was heavier then that. But it felt wonderful, and there was lots of it. Her climax refused to dissipate as the ooze creature pumped more and more of the mysterious goo inside of her.
Altara could feel her leather armor growing tighter around her midsection, her belly stretching from the contents of what was being pushed into her. It didn't feel unpleasant at all, in fact the added weight inside of her felt incredibly comforting. Altara felt her climax begin to subside, and the creature pulling from her body.
The incredible need to touch the ooze creature had passed once again, but this time it left a sense of pleasant satisfaction. The creature snuggled up against Altara, resting her head on the ranger's shoulder. The huntress placed a hand on the back of the Dragoncat's head and petted her gently.
"Wow, girl. You're amazing. That was the best sex I've ever had, and I didn't even take my clothes off." she said with a giggle. Looking down the ooze creature's back, Altara saw a shift in color spreading from the creature's groin. The Dragoncat seemed to be changing color, the dull gray-green brightening a few degrees to become more green then gray.
"You must've fed off my fluids, or the sexual energy or something." Altara said to the creature, who began to purr happily.
The huntress stood up, the creature reluctantly letting go. "Well, now that you've eaten, do you think you could help me find a way out of here?"
Tilting her head, the ooze creature just looked at Altara, not understanding. "Up." Altara said, pointing at the ceiling. "Up and out."
The creature seemed to understand. She turned and began walking down the hallway, looking behind to make sure Altara was following, which she most certainly was. She didn't want to get lost in a part of the dungeon that she had never been in before. The whole place was like a maze, an old section of the city that had been pulled underground in an earthquake, then reopened with sewer expansion. Altara had found the information in an old journal, and she was quite sure that she had been the first adventurer down here since... well... since it fell under in the first place.
Around a corner the hallway abruptly ended, a large cavern stretching downward for further then the light of Altara's torch could reach. The Dragoncat simply spread her wings and stepped off the ledge, taking flight. The ooze creature fluttered around inside the light of the torch, looking at the huntress expectantly.
The human looked down at the drop, then up at the Dragoncat. "I can't fly. No wings." she said, pointing to her back. The creature returned to the ledge, looking over Altara, looking at her back. The creature pressed her lips up against Altara's, the pleasurable sensation of contact made the ranger feel weak in the knees. She leaned back against the wall to brace herself as the creature's tongue pushed into her mouth, and seemingly down her throat.
It almost felt like there was something being pumped into her. But Altara found that she didn't particularly care if it was or not, the ooze creature's kiss felt so good. She felt her belly growing bigger, another very pleasant sensation. Her magicked armor shifting slightly to provide the perfect fit for her shape.
Altara dropped to her knees as the creature pulled away. The human moaned as an incredible sensation flowed through her body. Her chest, back, and shoulders felt kind of strange. Strange, but good. But that wasn't all.
The huntress felt a sudden presence in her sex, like a phantom cock, pressure, but no substance, driving into her. It felt weird, making all the motions of being fucked doggy style, but without any weight atop her at all. Gentle caresses over her breasts and back, against her clit, and inside her sex itself quickly drove Altara to the point of climax. It was like somebody, or something, knew just the right places to touch to make her cum as quickly as possible.
And cum she did. Altara arched her back as she came, dark red wings erupting from her back through shifting armor. "Oh Gods!" the ranger panted, "That was incredible!"
She stood, ignoring the sensation of gooey wetness in her crotch, admiring her wings. They were a deep red and glistened in the torchlight. They were slightly opaque, made of slime like the Dragoncat's body. Or they had been. Altara watched in fascination as skin seemed to grow over her new appendages, matching her own skin tone perfectly, the wing membranes maybe a shade darker.
She raised her hand, running it over the edge of her wing, a pleasurable shiver coursing through her body as she stroked the sensitive flesh. "Thanks." Altara said to the ooze creature, "I don't mean to sound ungrateful though, but can you get rid of them when... AH!"
At the first thought of her wings vanishing they did so, returning to their slimy state and oozing back into her with an erotic thrill shooting through her body. The shift caused Altara's breasts so swell, growing several cup sizes, though she was quite sure the mass wasn't equal to that of her wings.
The huntress gave the ooze creature a peck on the cheek. "Nevermind. Thank you very much for the gift." she said, mentally willing her wings out again, shivering at the delightful sensation they gave when the mass of slime shifted from inside of her to the outside, solidifying into beautiful draconic wings.
"Now, you're going to have to teach me how to use these." Altara said. The creature just smiled and shoved the ranger off the ledge.
The huntress panicked for a moment, but found that she seemed to instinctually know what to do, spreading her wings wide to catch the air and making the proper motions to stay aloft. "Hey... this is fun!" she calls up to the ooze creature. |
Everyone in the gym knew when to vacate that particular spot.
Though no one person technically owned the rights to its exclusive use, none of the customers, either regular or not, were brave or stupid enough to challenge the lizardess after she made a claim to it, nor were they willing to go through the extensive procedures required to bring the various pieces of equipment back to a state where they could be used by regular people. Though Aleksi had to start at the bottom, ever since they had begun their newest workout regimen, their gains had been… something; it was hard to describe it, seeing as their whole body underwent a transformation that felt more like a metamorphosis, a true change in what they were, rather than just muscle mass. Or, at least, that’s how the gym-goers chose to interpret it, seeing as the giantess’ mere presence was often enough to cow them into keeping their eyes stuck firmly on the floor, lest they find themselves in the path of the lizardess’ “affections”.
Though many among them were more than keen on being smothered by a thick pair of thighs, very few were so foolish as to believe themselves capable of withstanding ministrations by someone as big as Aleksi was, and those who did were kept in check by the rest of the clientele, lest the amazon develop ideas as to how eager everyone else was. As per usual, the first warning signs came from down below, from the underground locker rooms the establishment provided for their regulars; in truth, it had begun when Aleksi walked in through the front door, her footsteps powerful enough to be heard even when she was outside, but the entrance to the gym itself was mercifully separated from the rest of the building by a fortuitously opaque wall, allowing those within to maintain the illusion that everything was fine, and that they could just keep going without any concern for the incoming storm.
This polite fiction was consistently shattered when they all heard the heavy footfalls emanating from underneath them, strong enough that the very foundations rattled and the gym rats could tell exactly where the lizardess was purely from where the impact was coming from, prompting many of them to follow the noises and quaking as they traced the giantess’ trail… right up until she opened the door to the main gym floor, at which point everyone in there quickly looked down and tried to focus on whatever they were doing rather than the spectacle unfolding just feet away from them.
Aleksi’s body was unrecognizable from what it had been just months prior, owing to a strict exercise schedule coupled with an even stricter diet and what she could only assume were some incredibly lucky genetics wrapping the whole thing up with a neat bow. There used to be a time when she was regular-sized, if on the shorter end, and so puny that she could barely even imagine herself lifting a single weight beyond the amateur level, let alone any of the heavier equipment; nowadays, however, she had to go out of her way to cannibalize multiple machines just to create something that could begin to challenge her, and as time progressed and her body continued to bulk up, it was becoming clear that she’d have to invest in a personal gym for her own home, because any commercial establishment she could possibly find would be unable to cater to her very specific needs.
It was bad enough that her head nearly scraped against the ceiling whenever she took a step; though the hard surface above her was elevated to give the main gym floor more breathing room, that hardly mattered when she recently broke eighteen feet in height, towering over everyone around her even when she wasn’t actively trying to, and giving her proportions a boost that left whoever laid eyes on her loopy from overexposure. It would’ve been good enough if her body remained the same shape as before at the same rate as she she grew upwards, given that her workout gave her enough musculature on its own, but the taller she got, the more Aleksi came to realize that each additional inch granted some bulk of its own, adding on top of her regular gains for some truly spectacular results.
Her initial plan, back when she was still new to the entire routine of regular exercise, was to give herself a more athletic build: nothing like the way she was now, but rather just… slim, yet fit, the kind of physique one would expect of someone who ran marathons as a hobby. It was only after she became aware of the effects working out had on her that her goals had to be readjusted, though by that point, the lizardess was more giddy at the prospect than anything else; having convinced herself that getting fit would be a pain in the neck, the stupendous ease with which she sculpted her new body for herself served as an endless, bottomless wellspring of motivation, motivation that was only ever used to force herself to exercise even more, creating a vicious cycle that led to her becoming the behemoth she was nowadays.
Every part of her body screamed tightness; if anyone tried to touch her, tried to press their fingers against her, they would be faced not with soft pudge, not with hardened flesh, but with the biological equivalent of steel. Even the strongest among the rest of the gym rats would have trouble doing anything more than creating slight dimples on the surface of Aleksi’s muscles, and that was without her putting in the trouble of flexing to begin it. And yet, despite this, her overall shape was still quite compact; rather than bulging, colossal musculature making her look like she was wearing some sort of organo-mechanic suit of power armour, she looked like she’d been hitting the gym for months… just on a scale so much higher than anyone else that it was difficult to truly comprehend.
Her arms alone were about as thick as the largest weight plates that the establishment had available, her toned legs roughly the same size as a fully grown adult’s torso; her pectorals were developed to the point where, despite the fact that her breasts had similarly grown outwards to where they should cover about half of her chest, they instead remained firm and perky, allowing everyone to get a good look at a set of abs that were probably hard enough to chisel diamond on. To make matters worse, the lizardess had taken a shine to showing off whenever possible; she could have simply found clothing that matched, or at least bought some custom-tailored pieces online, but what was the fun in that? The giantess would much rather buy a series of sports bras that were clearly too small for her, inevitably leading to plenty of ripping and tearing of cloth whenever she did anything that even remotely strained her, though never to the point where her tits flopped out completely; similarly, though her shorts were just big enough to keep her on the correct side of public indecency laws, the amount of ass that was shown bordered on the downright scandalous… and there was a lot of butt to go around, surprisingly plump and bouncy for someone whose frame was dominated by dense musculature.
All in all, a figure to end all figures, an amazon whose mere presence was more often than not enough to shock everyone away from interrupting her whenever she got down to actually exercising, which as far as she cared was a big, fat plus; she didn’t feel like being interrupted, not when her mind focused on whatever she was doing, so being able to go about her day without having to worry about some horny jackwad trying to court her was exactly the sort of thing that Aleksi craved.
And indeed, the rest of the gym goers had learned quite a while before that when the lizardess sat down and began preparing her equipment for the afternoon, their job was to stay out of the way; if they were lucky, she would let her guard down enough that they could watch, which as far as Aleksi was concerned, would be the only reward the little ones around her ever got. Gone were the days where she considered herself part of the crowd, when she was still getting started and her body was puny and helpless; hard to believe it hadn’t really been that long, but after the sort of alteration that she underwent, could anyone truly blame her for letting her size get to her head, especially when she had to take extra care not to break entire weight benches in half just from the amount of stress she put on them by default?
It was made even worse by how her body had, somehow, slowly become more amenable to further improvement; perhaps it was a case of her workout regimen being even more effective than she thought, but while it had taken her quite some time before the first signs of change were noticeable, the lizardess had to admit that she could get results with relatively far less effort than she used to require, placing her in somewhat of an awkward situation. While Aleksi was absolutely in love with her new self, she didn’t intend to become some grossly over-proportioned bodybuilder that looked like they’d overdosed on synthoil; rather, hers was an amazonian figure to sculpt, to mould to perfection, where every inch of her body would complement every other, until none would be able to look upon her and not drop to their knees in supplication.
Aleksi wanted to be able to walk into a room and immediately make at least half of the people in there need a change of pants just from her presence alone, a trick that, unbeknownst to her, she’d already mastered without even trying; to that end, her plan was quite simple: keep working out, but only in such a way as her body would become further refined, without going overboard. It was an art form, really, so much so that most of her time was not actually spent pumping iron or lifting weights, or whatever else the little ones around her were so keen on her doing to satisfy their own morbid little lewd minds; rather, she had to be extremely careful with every ounce of effort she put into anything, at times requiring the lizardess to outline an entirely different exercise plan based on the one she’d been following, and more often than not leave enough gaps open that she could could improvise on the fly.
Just about the only thing she ever allowed to happen was having more height added onto her, if only because the proportional increases were always in line with what she imagined for herself… and also because it just so happened to make everyone else utterly terrified of her very presence, all while needing to grapple with some incredibly confusing and conflicting feelings regarding their own arousal. It was part and parcel for the sort of passive domination that Aleksi had grown so fond of, and the biggest reason why she hadn’t simply cancelled her gym subscription when it would’ve been significantly more convenient to simply exercise at home: she didn’t have a whole crowd of admirers back at her place, at once struggling to keep their eyes on her, yet also desperately wanting to ogle until their peepers fell off. The sheer degree of tension in the air was such that someone could probably cut it with a knife, enough that it felt as if even the background music was muffled underneath a thick curtain of apprehension; no one wanted to make a move, no one wanted to risk saying or doing anything that might set the lizardess off, not knowing that all it took was not acting like an overly manly chud with more dick than brains.
Aleksi would have adored the opportunity to flirt with someone who treated her the way she wanted to be treated: like an objectively superior athlete, but still ultimately just another person. Despite everything, and despite her very real belief in her own physical superiority, there was something unbearably hot about the idea of having someone a good half of her size just talking with her as if it was the most normal thing in the world, a workout partner who’d be happy to shoot the shit on topics that didn’t have to do with how gorgeous or beautiful or stunning or mind-meltingly sexy she looked. She had the rest of the world for that, enough so that most of her days coming back from the gym were capped off by at least one car in the street having to pull on their handbrake because they were looking at her rather than the road; sadly, to date, no such person made themselves known, giving Aleksi more cause to make herself even better, more perfect, to stretch her limits even more in the hopes that perhaps she could execute some kind of biological stack overflow: maybe, by becoming so overwhelmingly imposing, she’d manage to short-circuit a couple of brains into just treating her normally.
In the meantime, the mini-giantess was hard at work getting rid of the “mini” part of the equation, having recently discovered how best to optimize her workout so that it would go straight into her overall size, rather than bulking up just one part of her. It was only after she got started that Aleksi realized how hard she hit the bullseye; while she was convinced that the adapted routine would work wonders for her height, she couldn’t have expected to feel as her clothes were stretched in real time, her form expanding in every direction at such a fast rate that she could tell she’d have to go home early… either that, or spend a couple of hours flirting with people to burn off some time. It was almost cheating how easily she packed on the extra inches, very quickly feel how much her body exploded outwards until she was practically left touching the ground even while on the bench; the amazon was beside herself, mouth open in a wide, toothy grin that was just as jubilant as it was predatory.
She could see herself after getting back up: enormous, gigantic, big enough to smash straight through the ceiling if she wasn’t careful, able to loom over even the biggest of the big, all without even trying… and indeed, after she was content that the first found of exercises had done enough for her, at least for the immediate future, the lizardess didn’t hesitate in rolling out onto the floor, leaving an indent as she did so, having to take care not to tear apart the near-shredded remains of her shorts and sports bra. Somehow, those things had held on, hiding just enough of her body that she couldn’t legally be requested to put something else on, yet leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, somehow even less than they already had; hell, one errant movement could very easily expose a nipple (or two), not to mention how her cheeks were bulging out so hard from between the tattered strips of cloth that if anyone managed to beat back the desire to squeeze them, then they would be the anomaly.
With a final look around, Aleksi scanned the gym, hoping perhaps to find someone who could stand up to her… and as usual, not a single pair of eyes was looking back at them.
No problem. There was always the day after. |
Why exactly he volunteered himself to clean up the hazardous waste left behind after Chemistry exploded itself again was something he would never know, but at least it did give him a good reason to break out the hardsuit, and any excuse to do that was always a good one; clanking about in something designed for a sentient at least one and a half times his size was about the only time that Aleksi ever felt powerful, especially considering the sort of people he usually worked with, and while he did his best not to let those particular thoughts slip out, it was obvious to anyone who knew him more than just in passing that the lithe lizard had a complicated relationship with his size and proportions.
Hence, his constant struggle to get into a hardsuit as much as possible, leading to such wonderful situations as him being on the receiving end of “sunbathing” jokes thanks to being the only person who bothered to check up on the solar arrays in any active manner. Still, sometimes clean-ups had to be performed, and seeing as he’d drawn the short stick that time around, he was the one sent to fix what Chemistry had broken (again), with secondary instructions to remove whatever it was that caused the incident (again) until such a time as the sub-department’s staff took a health and safety course and was actively reminded not to make experimental drugs while on company time (again).
It wasn’t the first time and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but at least it was something to do while the shift wasn’t over, especially given the lack of anything more substantial; there were days that Aleksi legitimately wanted something terrible to happen, if only so he could have some work to do. In this particular case, not a lot of expertise was required, just a boatload of patience and the janitor’s intercom on speed dial for after he was done cordoning off the whole area… or it would’ve been, had the damage not been far more severe than the original report indicated. With the CMO letting the engineers know that it was a “small explosion” and “just some patchwork needed”, the lizard assumed that all he’d see on entering Medbay would be a few scorch marks on the wall and a lot of chemicals on the ground; the last thing he expected were multiple emergency inflatable barriers set up to prevent depressurization, along with a very concerned medical staff hurriedly evacuating everyone waiting in the lobby deeper into the department, where they could at least take shelter from any potential vacuum exposure.
This didn’t at all surprise Aleksi, nor did it leave him feeling any worse for wear; department heads consistently underestimating the severity of damage done to the station was the company’s bread and butter, and this at least was something worthy of his engineering degree! With a smile on his face, the lizard slowly walked over to one of the barriers, set up his own containment force field around it, then promptly poked the plastic hard enough for it to pop… revealing space on the other side. Chemistry hadn’t exactly exploded as much as it had ceased to be, with it being a downright miracle that the walls separating it from the main access corridor outside Medbay hadn’t been taken in the blast as well; beakers filled with fluids and various bits of bent, burnt metal twirled around in the station’s gravity field, afloat as the entire area had been effectively deprived of any atmosphere whatsoever.
Full, extensive repairs would be needed, including an entirely new piping system to keep the place supplied with oxygen, because whatever the chemists did, they had thoroughly gotten rid of anything solid built into the framework of the laboratory itself. With a sigh, Aleksi hopped forward, allowing his magboots to disengage as he floated towards the opposite wall, twirling around as he did so in order to fully survey the damage: the outer walls were seriously scratched, but would hold fast, with it being the flooring that took the brunt of the damage; some structural girders and metal panelling and the whole place would be ready for repressurization… within about two or so hours, as the liz wasn’t about to call for help.
No, he’d rather do everything himself, even if it meant missing out on extra pairs of eyes that could spot things he couldn’t, such as that large blob of orange-coloured chemicals floating directly in his path when next he pushed himself off the wall, which Aleksi had completely missed thanks to his own peepers being firmly stuck underneath him, where the stars shone on the other side of the hole that used to be a floor. He only realized what had happened after his visor went completely dark, all light blocked from view as the sticky substance splattered itself all over his front; this would normally not be that much of an issue, and indeed the lizard reacted with naught but mild annoyance at first, if not for what accompanied first impact: the sounds of sizzling, and the unmistakable smell of burnt metal.
Then did Aleksi panic, as he quickly realized that whatever the chemicals were, they were strong enough to melt through the external layer of the hardsuit, which should theoretically be impossible given the sort of construction employed in it and the kind of materials the chemists had available to them; alas, with his view obscured and his sense of direction compromised, there wasn’t a lot that Aleksi could do beyond flail wildly in a desperate attempt at finding the nearest plastic flap, damn the consequences for if he vented Medbay. He couldn’t exactly wipe his visor clean without the gunk getting on his hardsuit’s glove section, nor did the external cleaning sprinklers respond when he demanded they activate, leaving him stranded in a ticking time bomb about to go off and space him just feet away from the cloning bay; a fitting death, if not necessarily a painless one.
Worse yet, the confines of the hardsuit itself, which had thus far been relatively accommodating thanks to his nature as a lightweight twink, suddenly began feeling… stuffed. Inexplicably, Aleksi found the suit to fit him a lot more tightly than before, enough for him to notice and certainly enough for it to be slightly uncomfortable; the pressure didn’t abate either, quite the contrary in fact, and before long the lizard was legitimately dreading the possibility that not only was his entire body decompressing, but the chemicals were doing something to his organic composition that was causing him to bloat outwards in some manner. He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t; the intercom was out, so no one would hear, and the moment he opened his mouth he knew he’d have a whole chunk of the goop thrown directly down his throat, as the universe tended to have a sick sense of humour around those sorts of research stations; with pressure rising and discomfort turning to pain, Aleksi prepared himself for his final moments, right before he woke up somewhere else and had to deal with the uncomfortable reality that the body he was in was not his original one… even though those final moments didn’t really come nearly as fast as he assumed they would.
He had expected his body to quite literally burst, some sort of odd vacuum phenomenon that was most likely enhanced by the Bluespace fuckery that the lads in Science were constantly engaging in, but instead, he just felt the pressure rising, albeit in a way that was… odd. It was less like he was being pulled inside out by some unfathomable pressure differential, and far more a case of his body occupying every inch of the hardsuit’s interior, without suffering any reduction in structural stability along the way; for someone used to having plenty of wiggle room inside those things, this came as a surprise to the lizard, who couldn’t even begin to think about how this was possible, and yet, the longer he lived, the more he approached his end without actually reaching it, the more he realized that he was actually filling the insides of his suit!
It felt strange as only an inexplicable organic transformation could, and for a few moments he wondered whether the explosion had been the result of some sort of SWF interference, a few moments where he actually had the reasoning ability to produce such thoughts before the pressure began to grow unbearable, before he started hearing the suit itself begin to crack, bend and shatter underneath the unrelenting onslaught of his very own body. He dreaded the notion of moving an arm, for he knew that on doing so, the metal plates holding the suit’s arm would be forcefully ripped from one another; he refused to thrash his legs about, knowing as he did that if such a thing happened, he’d probably rip the hardsuit in half like it was made of tissue paper. Yet, the longer this went on, and the more Aleksi got to experience it, the less he actually cared about whether or not the damned suit remained in one piece or not, and the more he just wanted to… feel it go.
It was a sense of power unlike any other, knowing that his body alone was capable of ripping through something designed to withstand both the vacuum of space and the deepest, most overwhelming depths of ocean trenches, that his body had become a thing of such power that all he had to do was clench his fists and he could watch as the metal surrounding them was irrevocably bent out of shape for a couple of seconds before being torn apart, leaving a wide gash where there used to be a solid plate; such was a process that repeated itself again and again as Aleksi slowly came to terms with the fact that his body was becoming something greater than it had been before, and that the chemical concoction had somehow worked to give him the sort of physique that used to be nothing more than an idle fantasy.
How fitting it was that it should happen while he wore a hardsuit, that he could undergo a proper metamorphosis, cocoon and all; really, he probably couldn’t have asked for a better resolution, though the whole “being in space” thing was probably going to end up biting him once the suit broke apart completely. But he didn’t care; in fact, Aleksi wasn’t even paying attention to how little the hardsuit covered him already, how he had parts of his scales fully exposed to the vacuum of the cosmos and it hadn’t actually done anything at all to him, or anything negative at least. It was so easy to forget, so easy to not even notice, when his pleasure centers were so thoroughly wracked by constant, unending serotonin hits that the only thing left for Aleksi was to take the final step and actually get rid of the, by that point, completely useless and entirely unnecessary shell of bent, broken metal yet keeping him from revealing his full, glorious self.
By that point, it wasn’t even a contest of strength between himself and some of the hardest materials known to sentient life, as much as it was a colossus willing something broken and the universe taking care of the details; all he had to do was flex, clench every muscle in his body and feel as not only did he bulge out even further, not only did his muscles pack on even more mass, but whatever remained of the joints holding the hardsuit together cracked like a fragile eggshell, leaving only small bits of the poor thing clinging onto his body from inertia alone.
Easy enough to get rid of, as all that was required of him was to propel himself backwards by extending one foot towards the plastic barrier in front of him and pushing his mass towards the opposite wall, coincidentally creating one hell of a dent when he landed far faster than expected and was given a lesson in just how dense his new body was. It almost felt natural to be that destructive without realizing it, so much so that by the time he had course-corrected himself and faced the right side up, Aleksi had already carved several more gashes into the plasteel he’d been leaning against, without so much as a scratch on his claws. It was impressive really… or would be, if it didn’t register as a completely natural accomplishment for the lizard’s brain; if anything, the most surprising part was that he was suspended in a breach and his body wasn’t collapsing, but instead holding so firm that he was surprised his cock was only at half-mast, though granted, even in that state it was far bigger than it had ever been for most of his life.
Trying to breathe though, that much was still out of the question; it was a vacuum, and thus he needed to be somewhere else if he didn’t want to suffer a slow and quite monotonous death by lack of oxygen. Thankfully, there was an entire medical bay on the other side of those plastic barriers, so close that if he truly wanted to, he could just throw himself at them and let the automatic atmos locks do the work for him; fortunately, there still remained enough of his old self in there to stop him from doing something so ridiculously stupid… but not enough that he wouldn’t just open the specific barrier he had come in through anyway, only remembering to grab the holographic projector when he had already jettisoned himself away from the breach.
With a simple flip, however, it was easy enough to use the tip of his tail to hold onto it before he broke through the dividers he’d set up earlier, effortlessly nailing the landing at about the same time as the atmospheric alarms went off all around him. It almost felt like a waste, honestly, that everyone was too preoccupied by the sudden lack of a stable atmosphere to pay attention to the colossus that had just emerged from within the breach, to the ceiling-high, chiseled titan of a man whose shoulders had grown broad enough for him not to fit through the smaller airlocks, to the Adonis of raw muscle mass whose mere presence was enough to make even those franticked little ones stop in their steps for a few moments before the pressure differential made them remember why they were running to begin with.
It would be simple for Aleksi to fix this issue, trivial in fact, so much so that all it really took was a flick of his tail for the projector to go to work plugging the breach, after which the atmos systems began to restabilize the area; the device was thrown away almost immediately after, because ultimately, the big hole where Chemistry used to be was no longer important, he was. The destroyed sub-department, the breach, the atmosphere loss, all of it was entirely irrelevant next to himself, and how perfect and glorious he was… and how much he was owed a certain degree of attention that he very much was not receiving, a situation that required addressing posthaste.
Aleksi smiled, looking up at the digital clock above the medbay entrance, indicating the shift still had a few hours left to go. Absolute perfection, as far as he cared.
Plenty of time to impress himself upon the crew. |
Pleasure Snake Part II
Richard shivered in her place beneath the bunk. While she had been long enough to get her front up onto it and slither up a few hours before, now she was too small to do so. She lacked the strength to keep the length of her body required for this feat off the ground to do so.
The egglaying session several days before stuck in her mind, she refused to go through with that again; the pleasure, the pain, being force to curl her body around so that her face was not far at all from her sex, the humiliation as she climaxed with each egg expelled from her. But the worst part was her own fluids, her sexual juices. There was so much of them, an impossible amount to be contained in Richard's tiny body. With each egg she managed to push from her serpentine body, its departure was accompanied by a torrent of hot, sticky, wonderful smelling slime that splattered onto her face.
The glass lizard had refused her meals, and lacking sustenance her body had begun to shrink. First to go had been the remnants of her human form, curves that suggested shoulders and hips had melted away, leaving her body straight and smooth, almost entirely tail.
Her body ached, her empty stomach hurt, and if her body hadn't been drawing on itself for nourishment and had grown smaller, likely she would have gotten sick from dehydration by now.
Richard's cold-blooded body became lethargic in the shade underneath the bunk, so she hadn't moved out from under it since she'd laid her eggs. She slept most of the time, and the chill kept her mind slow and sluggish, keeping the horror and pain of her situation muted and dim.
She faintly heard the door to her cell slide open and the footsteps of the Doctor's assistant, Brutus. The thug reached under the bed and grabbed Richard, who simply hung limp from the gloved hand. Richard hissed in pain as a needle pierced her skin, something cold being pumped into her.
Thankfully she was tossed onto the bed, and could slither under the covers, able to block out the featureless, empty cell. The smooth sheets and soft blanket felt good on her hypersensitive, scaly skin. Her skin tingled, itched, tickled.
Richard wriggled and squirmed, trying to dispel the strange sensation, but the friction on her skin merely made her body grow warm with lust. There were no eggs this time, and they couldn't possibly see under the blanket. So there was no shame in giving her body what it wanted. At the very least it would allow Richard to take her mind off her plight for a few moments.
She curled her tail around, trying to slip the tip into her now moistened sex, using her tongue would be too reminiscent of the egg birthing humiliation, and Richard didn't want to even think about how she had been forced to push out dozens of eggs. Dozens of soft, smooth, sexy eggs that made her body quiver with desire at the thought of laying more.
Her eyes widened and she quickly straightened herself out, deciding against pleasuring herself. Richard didn't like the strange, almost instinctual thoughts that had just run through her head. Accepting the pleasure would be like giving up, like admitting that there was nothing he could do to resist the lustful urges of his scaly form.
"You've looked a little lonely, Richard." Came the voice of the Doctor, "Refusing to eat and hiding under your bed all the time. Perhaps you're depressed that we took all your eggs away?"
Eggs. Smooth eggs. Sexy eggs. Richard clenched her jaw shut as the involuntary thought flickered through her mind.
"And since I've completed my collection of brothers, and that they've taken so well to their new forms, except for you, I figured that we could re-introduce the lot of you to one another? Though I think it will be hard for you to recognize each other. Hmm... but length wise, for the moment, you seem to match up; John being the largest, Kyle being the shortest, and the middle brother in the middle."
The Doctor sighed, sounding disappointed, "I really wish you had eaten your meals. They would have kept you at a good size for breeding. But now you're too tiny to use for such a purpose. It would be much more efficient to use John now. She seems to have taken quite a shining to the idea of being full of eggs. Of course that just might be the hypersensitivity of her belly and the effects of it being stretched while she's pregnant."
Richard sighed with relief, no more breeding for her! No more humiliation of being bent in half, climaxing on her face again and again and again. Her body shivered at the thought, half out of disgust and half of physical longing.
The glass lizard suddenly felt ashamed. John was going to suffer the fate of being a breeder because Richard had refused to share the load. The door hissed open and a muffled growling could be heard, as well as the scraping of claws on the smooth metal floor. The sound of the door once again signaled its closing, and the scraping sounds told Richard she was not alone.
She winced, dreading what she'd see. The glass lizard slowly and cautiously poked her head out from under the blanket. She could still tell, faintly, that the creature on the floor below her bed was her brother, John. Or perhaps her sister now.
John, in comparison to Richard, had been lucky. She had all four limbs still intact, though they were a little shorter and thicker, meant more for being walked on by a belly-crawling reptile. John's legs didn't look like they would let her remain upright for long, but her forelegs still had what looked like semi-functional hands.
Richard recognized elements of a human shape still left, a swell in the chest and a curve to the hips that mimicked the appearance of a human woman. John's face and muzzle were shorter and higher than a true alligator's, or possibly a crocodile, Richard could never remember what the difference was, and she sported a long, thick, heavy tail, as well as a round, egg filled belly.
John looked up at Richard with sad, frightened eyes. The gator placed her forelegs up on the bed and nuzzled the glass snake gently with her snout, which was held closed by a circle of duct tape.
The glass lizard's instincts screamed to escape the large, scaly predator, but she forced herself to be calm, knowing that her brother wouldn't hurt her. The gator pulled Richard close with a foreleg, the two transformed brothers sharing a hug.
Richard sighed softly, she felt better now that she had some company. Unable to hug back, having no arms, and being too small to coil around the gator, Richard returned the affection by nuzzling John's neck.
It felt good to be loved, John's scales felt pleasant against Richard's hypersensitive body. She sighed happily as her brother began to pet her gently. John made soft grumbling sounds, a pleading look in her eyes. Richard merely nodded. Everything would be alright now that the two of them were togeth... urk!
Richard found herself moving, being gripped in both forepaws and being pushed backward. One of John's hands gripped her just behind the head, and the other near the last third of her tail. Richard had no idea what was happening, until she felt a warm wetness at the tip of her tail.
No! No! No! This was not happening! She was NOT being used by her big brother as a living sex toy! Richard wriggled and writhed, trying to escape, but the gator was too strong, and as the glass lizard was pushed deeper and deeper into the alligator's sex, her body began to betray her again.
Richard knew the sensation of needing to fuck all too well, and that was probably what John was going through right now. The needful ache in her own loins had been maddening, so Richard could understand why she had been shoved almost entirely into John's pussy. It didn't mean she liked it.
A soft moan escapes Richard's maw as her brother's muscles began to grasp and caress her hypersensitive body. Okay, it didn't mean that Richard had to decide on liking it. She hated being treated like an animal, a toy, and a sex object. But the warmth, the wetness, and the constant caress made even inch of her skin light up with absolute delight.
She couldn't help it, instinct took control of her body, making Richard press her own sex, suddenly needful and aching, against the slick walls of her brother's cunt. It was frustrating, so terribly frustrating that she couldn't achieve the satisfaction in her own sex that John could so easily achieve using her as a living dildo.
The full body stimulation quickly sent Richard's conscious mind retreating into a corner, stuffed their by an instinctual urge to fuck, to breed, to experience pleasure. She only faintly noticed the sound of the cell door opening again. Richard couldn't keep her eyes open long enough to see who, or what had entered.
There was a sweet scent in the air, one that shut out Richard's consciousness completely, filling the glass lizard purely with the need to mate, to breed, to fuck and be fucked. She opened her mouth to moan and suddenly found it filled with a slimy tongue.
Richard blinked a few times, the kiss pulling her out of her lustful haze for a moment. The kisser backed away, and Richard's eyes widened in bafflement at the smiling, salamander-like face of her little brother, Kyle.
A black tongue snaked out and licked stray juices from Richard's face, a small, clawed hand patted her gently on the head, a slick, gooey slime accompanying it. Richard found her resistance fading completely, replaced by a sense of pleasant euphoria. She sighed happily, relaxing, letting herself be used as a sex toy. It felt good. Nothing mattered except feeling good, and making others feel the same way.
Kyle coaxed John to roll over and climbed up onto the gator's belly, allowing Richard a good look at her little brother. Kyle seemed to have retained most of a humanoid shape, though it was a feminine one. Though three feet in height, the salamander still had humanoid proportions, legs meant more for bipedal motion, dexterous hands with long fingers and prehensile thumbs, and a face with only a short, blunt muzzle.
Kyle's red and black skin was slick with a transparent, sweet smelling slime, which apparently induced Euphoria as John was making sounds of happiness and contentment. The salamander looked down at her brothers and giggled. Something stirred in her loins, sliding outward. It was red and tapered and it made Richard's mouth water.
The glass lizard found herself eagerly opening her mouth wide to take her hermaphroditic brother's member into her mouth. Delicately clawed hands gripped the sides of Richard's head, allowing Kyle to release her.
The glass snake relaxed, she could breathe easily, even with her brother's cock in her mouth and throat. It tasted nice, sweet, pleasant. The gooey slime that coated most of Kyle's body also seemed to be a thinner, less concentrated version of her precum. Richard felt herself drifting off into a state of detached lust, merely content to be a fucktoy, to act as a strange sort of living condom as she was pushed in and pulled out of one brother's pussy by the thrusting and bucking of the other.
She wasn't sure how long it lasted, or how many loads of sweet, delicious seed that Kyle poured down her throat. It seemed like they would never stop, none of them showing any signs of fatigue. But after one last climax, which made John arch her back so hard it made a few soft pops, Richard felt herself being pulled from her brother's warm, wet tunnel. She squeaked her protest, but soon found she didn't care, as a forked salamander tongue began to lick her clean.
The comparative chill cooled Richard's blood, making her feel drowsy. The room felt colder then before, and John curled up beneath the bed's blanket, her lustful heat forgotten and a feeling of pleasured bliss replacing it.
The gator curled up, nose to tail, the salamander and glass lizard resting snuggled up against their brother. With a few practiced cuts with her claws, Kyle removed the duct tape holding her brother's muzzle shut, and the gator grumbled her thanks.
For the first time since her kidnapping and transformation, Richard felt happy. Truly happy, not merely from the effects of his brother's slime, or from being so pleasantly pleasured; she was with her family now, and despite their transformed states love was still love.
Richard drifted off into sleep, dreaming not of forced copulation and egglaying as she had done before, but of sunning herself, lying on her brother's comparatively broad belly, Kyle lying alongside her, the salamander petting her affectionately.
The glass lizard was woken by the sensation of being plucked from her bed, stolen away from her brothers, and carried off into the hallway. She quivered with fear, wondering what horrible fate was in store for her now.
Richard recognized the path taken, and the animal enclosures with the names on them no longer baffled her. She shuddered; there were so many cells, and so many names. So many people transformed as she had been.
She was carried back into the office where it had all began, placed on the desk in front of the Doctor, the one who had done all this two him.
The Doctor smiled, the dim light showing perhaps a hint of points hidden within a darkened mouth. Richard's captor reached down, and the glass lizard cringed, trying to slither away.
But rather than the painful grasp she expected, the touch that came was gentle, a clawed fingertip tickling her under the chin. "You've seen the pain and suffering I can cause, Richard. You've also felt the pleasant wonder that I can grant you. I don't enjoy playing the role of torturer too often, but I can't abide somebody threatening me with a weapon. You understand, I'm sure."
Richard cringed, she felt sorry for having marched in here, threatening the Doctor with a loaded pistol.
"So, now that you're aware of what I can do here, I'm going to make you an offer. I'm not going to change you back into a human, and I'm going to make you keep that form for some time to come due to what you and your family have done to the environment, but I'm not without compassion. I can make your life here quite wonderful."
The smile widened, showing definite fangs. "As you've seen, Kyle has accepted my offer, and is quite content with her new role, new gender, and new form. I have a role for you that I know you'll quite enjoy. Are you interested in hearing about it?" the Doctor asked, the tickling becoming gentle strokes.
The glass snake nodded. She wasn't drugged right now, she knew she should be repulsed and disgusted about what had happened the previous night, but she just couldn't work up the anger for it. She had liked it, enjoyed it, and not merely because of her instincts; the glass lizard wanted to do that again.
The diminutive reptile looked up at the dark, towering figure before her and slowly nodded her head.
"Good." said the Doctor. |
The Library of Eternity The building was large, imposing by modern standards, and immense by any ancient standards. The sandstone face of it stretched across the cliff face. Kimberly started in awe at it. The pillars carved from ancient stone holding up galleries balconies that had stood for thousands of years. She wondered how such a place was so unknown, even as she climbed the worn ramps up to the colossal bronze gates.
The gates opened with little more than the faint squeal of the giant hinge, letting her enter a long dark corridor lit only by small oil lamps cunningly crafted by artisans probably long dead. Her heels clicked on the stone, echoing in otherwise silence corridors.
The corridor emptied out into a great gallery, and Kimberly caught her breath as she saw the vastness of the hall. Ahead of her lay hundreds upon hundreds of shelves. Each stuffed with books, scrolls, and tablets. The room lit by mirrors that reflected the sun from some unknown place, bathing the room in a golden glow of knowledge.
Here was the prize she’d found. A chance to explore unknown histories. She’d worked so hard, top of her class in archeology and anthropology. She’d worked her way though school to get a masters in library sciences. And then the call came, an offer for a job. At first, she’d thought it was a scam, since she’d never heard of such a place as this. But the offer tickled at her mind, eating at her until she bought tickets and agreed to meet with the woman on the other end of the phone. What was the worst that could happen? No, she tried not to think about that. If nothing else it gave her an excuse to travel the world and see some places. She’d made sure to hit some of her bucket list on the way.
Now, she found herself here for the interview they’d asked for. Well, they didn’t call it an interview. They called it a formality. She wondered where her host was as she stood waiting at the top of a ramp down into the gallery.
“Thank you for coming, I am Sadzi, your host at the Library of Eternity.” The sudden words made Kimberly almost jump. She hadn’t heard anyone come from behind her, but there looking at her was a woman of middle-eastern decent it seemed, her long dark hair pulled up in a tight bun, and in a very fashionable gray suit and skirt. But where her appearance seemed normal enough as Kimberly took it all in, she realized there was something rather large that her host failed to mention during their discussion. For out of the skirt flowed a large, very scaly, and very long serpent’s tail that stretched behind the woman for several meters.
Swallowing hard, Kimberly tried to ignore the giant snake’s tail under her hostess. It was hard as Sadzi weaved and bobbed slightly on it, giving Kimberly the impression that she was sizing her up for dinner. She tried to focus on the woman’s face instead, but that was odd too. Her smile was wide and bright, but her teeth were a little too long at the corners of her mouth. The eyes had slits instead of round pupils, and her ears stuck out slightly into long points. It all made for a disconcerting sight. “Um, hi, a pleasure to meet you, I’m Kimberly, I had a two o’clock appointment.”
Sadzi shook her hand, western style, and laughed. “Ah, I see you have noticed our little secret.”
“Pardon?” Kimberly said, confused by the serpentine woman, trying not to fidget under the woman’s dark luminous gaze.
The snake woman chuckled. “That I am a lamia, a serpent woman, as you might say.” She flicked her long tail and coiled it up around under her forming a seat that she leaned back on. “You seem distressed. There is nothing to worry about. We aren’t like the ancient woman who gave us our name. We are, hmm, a bit more civilized than all that. You are here for the job.” “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.” Kimberly said, feeling abashed. The soft tone and easy manners of her hostess were almost as disarming as her looks.
The lamia shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, it’s quite alright to be nervous. I was my first time here too. We’ve already looked over your transcripts and we adored your thesis. Very promising, that’s why we called you over for the job.” Sadzi had a way of lisping her esses that reminder Kimberly of the cartoon serpents from childhood movies. Kimberly tried not to equate the elegant serpentine woman with such characters, but it did seem to make her feel more, well, human.
Kimberly nodded, getting her academic feet under herself, and rolling into a professional mode that helped her ignore the strangeness of her hostess. “Yes! You said you have an entry level archivist’s position open?”
“Certainly,” Sadzi said, as she started to uncoil. “Follow me and I’ll give you the tour.”
Kimberly watched as she slithered off, the graceful way her torso flowed with the emerald green and gold scales. From the back it almost looked as if she were dancing. Shaking herself from her staring she hurried to catch up to the serpentine woman, her heels clicking loudly on the stones.
The tour lasted for hours. Up and down ramps, not a single stair did she see. There were hundreds of chambers. Some large, some small, a few great galleries full of legendary artifacts. And still it was if she saw but a few. Ancient scrolls saved from various historic libraries. From the lost works of the great Chinese empires to copies of manuscripts through lost with the library of Alexandria. It was a historian’s dream come true. She saw a few other figures in the dim light, each like Sadzi, a monstrous fusion of woman and snake. Each was meticulously copying or annotating great bound volumes alongside the collection.
“How long has this library been around?” Kimberly asked, trying not to sound too ignorant.
“Ah, I wondered where the curiosity was. You wouldn’t know much about us. Few do, and we like it that way.” Her hostess, paused, turning to face her again.
“But why? You have so much of the world’s ancient knowledge here. There is so much you could offer.” Kimberly said, her voice echoing in the gallery they stood in.
Sadzi nodded. “Yes, but knowledge can also be dangerous. We collect not just what was, but what might be. There are things here long lost by humanity, and for that we are thankful. It takes a special kind of person to see what cannot be unseen.”
“Oh.” Kimberly felt small and vulnerable in that moment, staring at the dark stones that lined the shelves around them.
“Come, let me show you where you will work.” The woman beckoned, her long nails almost glinting, making Kimberly realize that they were really claws.
They came at last to a small room, lit by the sun directly by an open southwesterly wall. There was a small balcony that gave clear views across the arid land scape. A soft breeze blew in, but it was still quite warm. The room was spartan, save for a large desk made entirely of stone slabs, cunningly cut.
“This would be your office. Most of your daily work will be down in the archives, but you may need to come up here to recharge or work on something that needs adequate light.” Sadzi gave her an odd, almost knowing look.
“Wow, look at the view.” Kimberly said, standing out on the balcony overlooking the wide expanse below the cliff. Other than the single road the area was a vast wilderness, some how untouched by the modern day.
“Yes, it is lovely.” Sadzi stifled a yawn, “But the warm sun makes me want to sleep, so I seldom use mine during the afternoon hours.”
Kimberly shuffled her shoe in the faint dust on the floor. “Wow, this is an amazing place, Sadzi, but I’m just not sure how I’d fit in.”
“Oh, you needn’t worry about that. We’re not all stodgy old archivists. I haven’t shown you the best part of the place yet!” Sadzi’s mood brightened and she slithered off rapidly down a small corridor.
Kimberly, almost bemused by the sudden giddiness of the woman, followed. The continued clack of her heels reminding her that she was a stranger in this place.
*** *** ***
They wound their way deep into the stone, heavy beams of wood now supported the tunnels instead of graceful carven arches. The air was getting warmer too, humid. Kimberly had to loosen a button on her shirt to keep herself from feeling faint as they continued. It was dark now, only a few small candles in sconces, lit the way, barely enough for her to see by. In the distance she thought she heard something rushing, like water.
Soon the rush of water drowned out the sound of her heels clicking on the ancient stone, and Sadzi had to shout over the roar as they came to a large carven cavern. “It’s this great!” She yelled. “What is it?” Kimberly yelled back, staring at the dim room. She could only just make out stone tiers, linked by more ramps that wound down into what looked to be a pool of water that bubbled and boiled. The rushing noise coming from a small cascade, perhaps a dozen feet high, that rippled down one wall, joining the pool. The dome of the room stretched high overhead. The room had a few other occupants, each soaking her tail in the warm waters. Even in the dim light Kimberly could see that they had removed their clothes for the bath, and were lounging topless. The young woman tried to avert her eyes.
Sadzi made a sweeping gesture. “It’s a natural hot spring, the water coming out there above is heated by the earth and full of mineral salts.” She giggled. “Isn’t it awesome? We come here to unwind.” She wiggled her tail a bit, clearly itching to give herself a chance at the bath.
“Isn’t it dangerous?” Kimberly asked wondering about carbon dioxide and other things that might come from volcanic vents.
“Hasn’t been in three-thousand years!” Sadzi yelled back. “We had the bubbles tested years ago. They’re a form of oxygen release, keeps the air fresh. Not sure how, some mystery that the geologists haven’t uncovered yet, I’m sure.”
“And you just, um, come down here to relax?” Kimberly said, trying to ignore the influx of more of the snake women.
“Oh, yes, and socialize. We’re very social. Come on, you’ve got to try it at least once. I’m sure it will win you over.” Sadzi was already unbuttoning her blouse.
Kimberly shifted uncomfortably. “When in Rome.” She muttered and started taking off her shoes.
Sadzi was naked before Kimberly even could finish unbuttoning her blouse. The image up close wasn’t exactly what she’d expected. From mid-thigh downward she was a gorgeous emerald green with golden under-bellied serpent, but above she was an exquisite figure of a woman, her golden tan legs melded smoothly into her scales. Above them, only the small mound of her sex nestled between them amidst her generously flared hips, that rocked as she swayed back and forth. It was hard for Kimberly to keep her eyes averted. The woman’s the large breasts were all but in her face as Sadzi started helping her remove her clothes. Her long claws deftly undoing buttons until Kimberly stood as naked as she.
“Come on, it’s time to join the fun.” She laughed, pulling the pins from her hair, letting the mass of dark curls cascade downward as she slithered down the rampway towards the water to join the others. Kimberly placed her hands over her small breasts and her mons, hiding herself as much as she could. Her American upbringing had left her very uncomfortable with nudity that many other cultures took as part of life. Here it seemed bath time was such a thing.
Nervously Kimberly stuck a toe in the water. It was warm, almost too warm for comfort. Sadzi beckoned her, her body almost fully immersed in the water as she laughed and chatted with several other lamia around the room. Kimberly gave up trying to be coy and shy, and let herself step down the ramp until the water reached a little over her waist.
“There we are! It’s this wonderful!” Sadzi gave her a side hug and started introducing her to a dozen different lamia that gathered there. Too quickly for Kimberly to even catch their names. Rather she found herself distracted by the bubbling waters. They seemed to caress her skin, the warmth seeping into her as she found herself dipping her fingers into the water and swirling them, delighted by the play of the ripples. Pretty, very pretty, she thought.
“Ooh, Sadzi, you’ve got a live one.” One lamia commented, her face suggesting Chinese ancestry, but her scales were dark, almost black, with a soft pale underbelly. Sadzi turned to look at her guest. Kimberly’s face turned a soft red as she flushed, her long red hair flowing down her back as she began to weave and twist. It was subtle at first, her hair seemed more lustrous, her breasts heaved a bit, swelling slightly until they were what best described as generous on her small frame. The other women clapped and oohed as they watched her hips curve outward. They all knew what was coming even as her ears stretched, and her nails lengthened. The real show was under the water.
It was so nice, so warm. It was like a waking dream as she felt herself give in to the water’s soft caress. Kimberly could feel her feet twisting and stretching, her body pulled into a great long muscular coil. She gasped, feeling parts of her touch the stone that she didn’t recognize. Her body rippled as scales emerged, erasing the soft pale skin, and replacing it with a yellow and black banded patter than stretched down from her thighs to where her tail now stretched meters behind her.
She blinked, shaken from her reverie as Sadzi gave her a huge, her breasts pressing against the newly enlarged pair that graced her own chest, a strange feeling.
“Oh, I knew you were perfect for the job!” Sadzi said, pulling back to gaze at her new sister.
Kimberly began to take stock of her new body, she felt wonderful in the heated mineral water. Her tail swished, taking in the warmth. She could feel herself swaying gracefully, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, her torso weaving just above the waterline. Gingerly she reached feel the changes wrought to her. Her hands glided over the supple hips, then upwards to her chest. Delicately curved claws cupping the large mounds. Finally running her hand up to her newly pointed ears amidst a wash of thick waves of red hair that glimmered in the low light. A newly forked tongue tapped at her fangs, her senses picking up the chemicals around her in ways she’d never dreamed.
She gazed around at the crowd, seeing the features of the woman in sharp clarity despite the dimness of the cavern. They all cheered as she slowly lifted herself from the water in all her seductive serpentine glory, pressing around to embrace and welcome in their newest sister as a fellow archivist in the Library of Eternity.
Just maybe, she realized, this would be a good fit for her after all. |
The customary ten hours of sleep had done very little to take care of the distended gut he had been blessed with, though frankly, that was to be expected after what he did to get it in the first place. In fact, had Pololi woken up with his belly the way it used to be, it would’ve been seen as a portent of ill luck, a sign that the gods hadn’t truly chosen him as their prophet of gluttony; with him having been the first true victor of the Games in what might very well have been centuries, such a state of affairs would be terrible for morale, perhaps even enough to justify grieving, as clearly the gods had abandoned them if that were the case.
Thus, Pololi was determined to make sure this wouldn’t happen to him, that he would serve the gods to the best of his ability and come out of it an even fatter, rounder ogre because of it; that was his purpose, after all, his fate and destiny, the reason why he entered the Island Games to begin with! He’d always been on the larger side, and from an early age had been the subject of a great amount of speculation; their tribe’s mystics had perhaps too much enthusiasm when it came to declaring someone an “aspirant”, someone who might one day undertake the ritual to commune with the gods, to the point where they occasionally had to be reminded that there couldn’t be multiple aspirants at the same time, in accordance with their own religious scripture.
In Pololi’s case, however, things weren’t so simple that he could be dismissed, as not only did he grow much faster than the other younglings of his age, but his appetite was ravenous even by the tribe’s own standards; his parents were lucky that the island they lived on was as bountiful as it was, for otherwise they might’ve had genuine issues keeping the poor lad fed! As it stood, however, the colossal isle of Akea gave the ogres everything they could ever possibly want, to the point where none were obligated to perform labor to keep the tribe fed; all it took was for them to walk into the jungle outside of their village and pluck whatever food they wanted from the trees or the bushes, knowing it would regrow within a few hours. Those who actually put in the time to hunt or fish were seen as performing the gods’ work, taking time out of their lives to bring even more mouth-watering dishes onto the communal table; it was, after all, seen as rude for one to eat alone within the privacy of their own home, not when there was just so much to be shared, not when the very concept of gluttony was such a fundamental part of the tribe’s belief system.
For them, lunch time, dinner time, mid-afternoon snack time and the seven other points in the day where they all got together to eat en masse were sacrosanct, so much so that their mystics began each meal by blessing the food and the very ground upon which the banquet table sat. There, in the middle of their village, was where everyone congregated, each and every ogre bringing with them an armful of food of their own choosing to add to the potluck, with special spots of honours being reserved for meat and fish acquired since the last meal. In many respects, this was what the tribe’s life revolved around, as the moment they were done with one meal they had to immediately start preparing the next one, and with endless quantities of food at their fingertips (even the wildlife seemed more interested in being easy targets than offering resistance or hiding), it became a constant cycle of emptying the communal table, cleaning it up, then promptly filling it back up again for the next feast.
It was there that aspirants were truly confirmed, there that those whose innate qualities made them candidates for the gods’ blessings were put to the test: could they out-eat everyone else? Could they devour so much food that it was seen as legitimately impressive, even by their own tribe’s incredibly high standards? If so, then this prospective aspirant might just be selected for their Island Games, a rather straightforward name for what was, effectively, an even grander eating competition: once every few years, the elders would get together and decide it was time to see if anyone in the tribe was truly blessed by their gluttonous gods, thus being worthy of the great ritual which would have them ascend to join with the rest of the pantheon, that they might gorge themselves on endless feasts for the rest of eternity.
It had been so long since anyone rose to the challenge and managed to beat it that no one alive remembered the last time anyone was subjected to this ritual; there’d been plenty of Island Games, yet at no point did anyone manage to complete all the challenges and eat enough to qualify as the victor. The details of the ascension were thus committed solely to bricks of clay, carved an unimaginably long time ago, untouched by all except their mystics, who insisted on performing the Games with such incessant regularity that, once again, they had to be reminded to mind their manners and learn some patience. Preparing for the Games was, after all, an endeavour of such complexity and scale that it dwarfed even the greatest of feasts prepared during the tribe’s holy days, enough so that the island actually looked barren after the ogres were done collecting all the food they needed… at least for a day or two, before everything sprouted back into place.
The rules for the Games were quite simple: contestants would go through a series of eating contests where they were tasked to devour as much of a type of food as possible, with the catch being that they must go through every single recipe known to every single person alive in the tribe at the time. Naturally, this resulted in hundreds of individual contests with absolutely no room for rest in between them; the texts were quite clear when they said that a true aspirant should be capable of consuming several times their body weight without needing to take even a second to recuperate. This, inevitably, meant that very few ever had the opportunity to participate in even a fraction of the full Games; much as the ogres of the Akea tribe were huge, gluttonous and ever-famished, they had their physical limits to deal with, and most of them simply lacked the ability to pack on that much food, with the remainder always tapping out some time before the end once they practically stuffed their windpipe after their stomachs filled to capacity… that is, until Pololi came along.
Just as his early development caused others to see him as a truly extraordinary specimen, so too did his puberty make it clear that he was several cuts above the rest; by the time he came of age, he was nearly five feet taller than the next person down on the height ladder, and several more feet wider than even the fattest of hedonistic gorgers. He was immense, and that was his default state, requiring no particular feasting; not that he could stay that way for long, as a body like his required a constant intake of food in order to function, only adding to the problem as he grew bigger and wider with every passing month. It was his presence that spurred the elders to call for the Island Games to be held, believing that, at long last, they had found someone worthy of the gods’ blessings; and after months of preparation, months of gathering and hunting, months of preparing the banquet and using their magics to preserve the meals until they were ready, Pololi stepped forward and took his place at the contestant’s table, along with twenty other aspiring young ones… and then proceeded to thoroughly blow away even the tribe’s sky-high expectations by seeing each and every last one of his competitors leave before he even bothered to think about complaining of being full.
In fact, hours after the Games began, when there was just him and another male left, when Pololi had eaten so much that not only was he several contests ahead but had also bloated to nearly fifty times his regular size (mostly in belly weight), all he had to do was look to the side, pat himself a couple of times, and utter four words:
“Could go for seconds!”
This was more than enough to let his fellow competitor know they were thoroughly outmatched, prompting them to throw in their support behind him and join the ever-growing crowd cheering Pololi’s name; of course, this didn’t ensure victory, as the Games only truly ended when either everyone quit, or someone finished. So… he did. Pololi kept eating, even past the point where he physically couldn’t feed himself any longer and thus required the whole village to step up and help him out; there was a moment of trepidation when he stopped reaching for the food, as he’d already become colossal, making it a disappointment of literally epic proportions if he’d given up just then… that is, until he burped, his whole form seemed to shrink a couple of inches, and the ogre colossus promptly asked for someone to pass him the next meal.
He was a titan of blubber, a blob of such colossal proportions that several other smaller ogres were actually caught in the folds of his gigantic belly, requiring assistance not to just become lost in there; it was a trek to get to his head, practically melted into a neck so flabby that it had turned into a bowl of sorts, with Pololi’s head at the bottom where food could more easily be shovelled down. It was as if his very biology was working to transform him into an eating machine, someone who couldn’t quite eat by himself, but could certainly command enough respect to have others feed them, not to mention one possessed of a stomach so deep it might as well be bottomless… which, just so coincidentally, matched perfectly with the tribe’s notion of how their gods looked like.
They weren’t stupid, they knew that their bodies should be unable to grow that much, which could only mean that Pololi’s (and select few others’) ability to do so must be divine in nature, and seeing as gluttony was so important to them, and they lived on the bountiful Akea, then surely it made sense that those feasting for eternity in the heavens should be a reflection of their endless hunger. In fact, this alone convinced the elders that Pololi had to be a true aspirant, for no matter how much he ate, no matter how much he bloated, the ogre always demanded more; he seemed to be hungrier when he was done than when he started, and if not for the fact that he was stuck and incapable of even so much as moving a single muscle thanks to all the weight on him, the giant most likely would’ve devoured the whole island several times over.
Instead, he was lulled into a ritualistic sleep through the spellweaving of the tribe’s mystics, in preparation for the ritual to be performed the following day. It had been so long that even the most fanatical of the faith had to take some time to read the instructions, especially when it came to the incantations themselves; it was designed, at least in theory, to allow one lucky ogre to commune directly with their tribe’s gods themselves, the spirits of gluttony who determined the fates and wove the very fabric of reality; technically speaking, anyone could try and do so, but it was accepted knowledge that only those worthy of ascending could accomplish this without having their souls burned from their bodies from the strain of contacting the divine.
Thus it had happened before, as the mystics were well aware that all members of their pantheon but one were all once mortals, just like them, who had ascended to become something greater by virtue of their own endless gluttony and hedonistic self-indulgence; so it was that Pololi would, hopefully, become one as well, under the auspices of the Great Father, the one who kept the divine feasting table stocked with literally infinite quantities of food, each piece so delicious and filling that it would keep their tribe alive for hundreds of years with only a single bite. Thus it was decreed and thus it was decided… the problem being how to get Pololi out to sea, which was where the ritual was supposed to be performed.
It’d be one thing to just do it where he sat, and indeed it would be very convenient, but the clay tablets were quite clear when it came to that point: the aspirant would need to be placed on a raft and sailed off to sea, where the ritual, once complete, would have them commune with the gods themselves. The construction work required for this was such that whole chunks of the jungle had to be cleared out; if not for the fact that the trees would grow back within a few days at most, it would’ve been a genuine loss. Alas, it was necessary, even if it would offend the spirits of the land, for an opportunity like that one simply did not present itself with any kind of regularity; Pololi was an aspirant, of this the mystics and elders were certain after communing with Akea during the preparatory ceremonies, and they weren’t going to let go of this one chance to have a member of their tribe become a literal god through ascension by gluttony.
No, the trees were a small sacrifice to make, and surely the spirits wouldn’t mind it too much if the proper care was taken; thus it was that most of the village worked through the night, chopping down and carrying log after log towards the beach, where the greatest raft ever created by ogrekind was assembled under the supervision of their fishers, the only people there who even slightly understood the principles of navigating on water. Thankfully, the raft itself wouldn’t need to be controlled, just pushed in one direction and swept away by the tides, as for whatever reason, the currents always seemed to pull away from Akea; it made fishing a dangerous profession, hence the respect paid to those who embarked upon it, and it would make Pololi’s departure even more complicated, as all it would take would be a stray wave for him to be tipped over, especially with how much weight would be on that thing.
It wouldn’t just be Pololi, but also several offerings of food as well, nearly as massive as the aspirant ogre himself, and according to the tablets, not a single crumb could be wasted; to resolve this, the tribe’s fishers agreed to bring their own ships, tie them to the raft, and then guide it out to sea, before retreating back to a safe distance. It was unorthodox, and probably not in the spirit of the ritual… but there was nothing in the letter of it that forbade them, so why not?
Might as well try something that had a chance of succeeding than a method guaranteed to fail, so after some re-reading, the mystics agreed to the proposal, and the grand raft project was suddenly even grander than before. Now all they needed was to bring Pololi himself over, which was, to put it lightly, far easier said than done; the ogre was already big by default, even without his usual gorging, so him winning the Island Games had left the guy in… quite a state. |
Walk a Mile: Covert Ops: Cora
Cora leaned into Morgoth's caress, the black and red dragon's clawed hand stroking the soft fur of her cheek. She clung tightly to his large, powerful frame, her head resting on his chest, her plentiful breasts and udder resting against his flank.
"You know what I have to do, my pet." he said softly, his voice rumbling pleasantly, sending a thrill through Cora as it always did, as she had been designed to.
She nodded her head, "Yes, Master. I know the penalty for a whore's disobedience. I am willing to accept that fate. You have no choice; you have to use me as an example to the rest. I know, Master. I know all too well." the bovine said softly.
"It was stupid of you to come back, Cora." the dragon rumbled, "You could've ran."
"I'm just a whore, Master, I couldn't get away. I had to make sure that my child would be well taken care of. I didn't want her to grow up with..." she shook her head, "All this. All the sex, all the violence, the kidnapping, the Companions."
"I understand." Morgoth purred. "Who was her father?"
Cora shrugged, "I don't know, Master. She looked part feline. Triangular ears, retractable claws, black and white, spotted."
The dragon crime lord looked into Cora's eyes, and found no falsehood there. He sighed softly.
"A shame; I had hoped that she would've been mine. We could've done so much with her. Kriegan could've made her perfect. I'll have to try again. This is quite an inconvenience, you realize."
"I am still able to serve in the capacity you require, Master Morgoth. You have the opportunity to improve me as you see fit, and will be able to birth all the offspring you require. The baby wasn't yours, and I didn't want her to have to go through what I did." the bovine said softly, eyes filling with tears.
"Shh, shh, shh, Cora." Morgoth rumbled, "You have no need to fear. It will be all over soon."
The dragon stood, picking the bovine up in his arms, carrying her from his 'business' bedroom into the adjacent lab.
-o-
Cora closed her eyes as she was placed into the transformation chamber. She sighed happily and relaxed, sliding down the smooth inner wall to a sitting position. Her legs were forced open by the size and weight of her udder. She slowly ran a hand over her body, as if trying to put each contour into her memory.
There had always been warnings about this. Well, not this, but being involved with the illegal brothels. The legal ones, the Leiaou ones, didn't take just anybody. They had a two year training school before you were allowed in. That had always amused her; that someone had to pay for schooling to be a whore.
She'd needed the money, at first. It had been an immigration scam that left her needing the cash. A young human from the one of the Outer Point systems, she had left home to look for something more glamorous and exciting in the more populous worlds than the mining, farming, and foresting that was what the outer worlds were generally used for.
Cora smiled and ran her three fingered hands over her smooth hooves. She had long since forgotten what it was like to have human feet. She had gone to the brothels, gotten herself hired, and had quickly made herself enough money to continue on her trip further inward towards the galactic core. But she found that she rather liked her job. It was fun, and it paid well.
Her one problem was her addiction. It wasn't drugs or VR stims like most of the other girls. She'd gotten addicted to genetic enhancements. Her changes made her a better and more popular lover, which had gotten her more money, which had lead to more changes.
It had been an accidental side effect from her second breast enhancement that had made her start lactating, and she had never stopped. She loved milking herself, and being milked. She had slowly transformed herself from a human to an anthropomorphic cow. She had taken everything slow, getting used to each small change before getting the next, allowing her clients to get used to them as well.
She had been traded around the various brothels like an up and coming linebacker around the GFL. A few years ago she had wound up at Morgoth's brothel. She had been one of the few employees who had been dubbed 'Companion' without having any of the modifications that came with it.
With her obsession, it had been inevitable. She had been one of the few willing ladies who had undergone the Companion genetic enhancements, and she had never looked back. That soft, sweet, scared little catgirl had done wonders. Just taking a breath in her Companion body had been on par to the pleasure she had felt as an unaltered human when a cock had been thrust into her.
The dragon had become fascinated with Cora. She hadn't been sold into the job, she had made sure that her client base were all individuals that would see to her pleasure and well as their own, she legitimately enjoyed coming into work. She had grown incredibly skilled in her fifteen years working the back rooms and escorting wealthy businessmen, women, and herms.
Morgoth had grown fond of the pleasures she could offer, and he indulged the many changes and tweaks she had gotten to her form over the years with open access to Kriegan. She had talked for hours with the Leiaou, browsed the modifications that she kept in her database. Such a browsing session resulted in her getting her udder enhanced.
So big, so large, so perfect, so full of milk; she loved it. It was around then she had playfully begun referring to Morgoth as "Master," like the programmed Companions did. She was very good at finding what gave her clients pleasure, and her willingly referring to him with that title made him feel happy, and it enhanced his pleasure.
He felt comfortable with her like no other. It seemed to Cora that Morgoth couldn't afford to have many real friends, or lovers. She was the only one she knew of that had willingly shared a bed with the dragon. The others were either terrified of Morgoth, or were programmed Companions, caring for Morgoth simply because they felt they were supposed to.
Cora believed that the dragon loved her, in his own way. It was why she had been chosen for his special project. She wasn't supposed to know about what he had planned. Her body had been further tweaked and enhanced, small genetic changes meant to be imparted certain effects onto any children she conceived.
Which was usually impossible, the first alteration Cora had done was to prevent any pregnancies. Morgoth had that bit removed without Cora's knowledge, or so he'd thought. She'd had Kriegan write a change monitoring program for her cyberlink, so Cora could monitor interactions between her many genetic modifications.
Going through her mental logs of the prospective changes in Kriegan's database, she'd discovered what Morgoth was planning.
A newborn was far, far more genetically enhance able than an adult. So much more could be done, especially with Kriegan, and a recent acquisition of military class modifications. The problem was, all that prospective genetic firepower couldn't be applied to a fully grown adult.
Cora had heard about such things happening, but the biomods needed were incredibly expensive. Essentially a biological brain backup that was essentially indestructible. The brainpod was a combination of genetic re-engineering and cyber ware that served, originally, as a secondary brain. Over time personality and memories were added to the brainpod during sleep, until it was, in effect, a duplicate of the host's original brain. And beyond.
There were improvements that could be used for the mind, but due to the slow rate of cell turnover, and the delicate structure of the brain, they had to be added before the brain grew too developed, within the first year of life. Or within a secondary brain inside the host. As the host used the brainpod more and more, the original brain would degrade somewhat. In effect this created a continuity of consciousness to where the host's mind and essence resided in a surgically removal container that was self supporting for several weeks, and could be implanted in a 'blank' body that had been created with the proper mods to accept an outside brainpod.
And judging from the mods that had been applied to her, Cora could tell that any pregnancy would result in a child with that particular feature. Morgoth, paranoid as ever, was planning to transfer his mind into the child's body, a body that would be far more powerful than the one he currently occupied.
Her belly had begun to grow with pregnancy soon after, Kriegan's mods ensuring a quick and easy pregnancy. It was why she had fled. As much as she cared for Morgoth, she would not let him destroy the consciousness of her baby in order to obtain a near-indestructible body with an increased intellect.
He would hunt her to the ends of the universe to acquire their child, and from the moment Cora knew she could become pregnant, she had done her best to assure that she and Morgoth would not conceive a child. She had tried her best to have herself fertilized by a client, or one of the herm companions.
In the end? She had no idea if she had succeeded or failed. Little Aya had draconic features, but she also had fur. But there were the triangular ears, which neither she nor Morgoth had. The fur Aya could have gotten from Cora, but the black and white spotted pattern wasn't something Cora or Morgoth had.
Wait... Cora had taken on the typical moo cow look once to see if she liked it, and Kriegan had said that sometimes deactivated mods sometimes appeared in the offspring of gene-modded individuals. So it could have come from Cora. But the retractable claws on Aya's hands and feet, those were something that didn't fit Cora's history of cow-based enhancements, or something that Morgoth had. The towering dragon's claws, all three inches of them, were kept on his fingertips, an obvious display of force.
The blue transformation fluid began to fill the tank, and Cora smiled as its familiar warmth swept over her. Aya was safe; she couldn't possibly be Morgoth's. Even if the dragon managed to find her.
A small display flashed in the corner of Cora's eye, a subconscious search through her mod database. Retractable claws. Her eyes widened, she had completely forgotten about them. It had been a modification she had gotten on the advice of her co-workers, back when she was still mostly human. Concealed defenses if a client got a little too hands on. They wouldn't expect claws on a human.
Aya could've gotten the claws from Cora! But her ears!
Cora closed her eyes, recalling the hours she had spent with her baby before giving her to the care of the Sisters of Perpetual Aggression, one of the Leiaou orders set up to take children whose mercenary and military grade modifications might make things a bit difficult for other orphanages to rear such a child.
Small points on the ears, almost like... oh gods. Like Morgoth's ear fins. Aya's ears were a fusion between Cora's and Morgoth's.
The captive bovine began to panic within the cell, the thick goo reaching her ample chest. She splashed and trashed within her cylindrical prison. Then she laughed, floating calmly in the goo as the liquid metal of the breathing mask slipped over her muzzle.
Her memories were going to be sealed off. She was going to begin life anew as a programmed companion. It didn't matter if she knew or not anymore.
Aya's secret was safe with her.
Morgoth would never know
Cora felt the cyber link attachment slip into place. The sleep-inducing chemicals hit her system, lulling her into unconsciousness.
The last thing that filled Cora's mind was the image of her daughter, snuggled up against her breast, purring softly with contentment.
-o-
Several years later...
The instructor blew her whistle, putting an end to the virtual mauling that was occurring in the middle of the sparring circle. "By Dessarra's left tit, Drake, you are an embarrassment to the entire vulpine race! Here you are not only getting kicked ass over teakettle by a girl, but a SIX YEAR OLD girl at that!"
The fox sighed softly; a mistake as his opponent only squeezed him tighter, driving the breath from his lungs, and not allowing him to breathe in any deeper.
"You have gone and humiliated your entire unit here today, Cadet Drake! A grown man trounced soundly by a youngling whose testicles haven't descended yet! Break it up, you two. Hit the medbay and come back here at 18:00, this time I'm bringing the holocamera."
The Leiaou sergeant turned, a grin on her face, her tufted tail swaying back and forth in amusement as she walked away. The pressure on Drake's lungs eased and the fox was able to finally draw in a breath. The crushing weight on his back was also removed, replaced by a large hand with six inch biosteel claws. He took the hand and found himself yanked back to his feet.
"Sorry about her." Rumbled a deep, but quiet voice, "She thinks it's funny to have the most bio-accelerated recruit pound on all the newbies and mock them for it. It's nothing to be ashamed of, really, I've got so many hand to hand combat mods built into me that are like second nature to me."
Drake rubbed feeling back into his aching arms and nodded, "Yeah, and being seven and a half feet tall and half a ton of hard scaled dragon really helps." He said with a wince.
Aya chuckled, "If you know what to do, size and armored scales are not much of an advantage; especially as quick as you are. If you'd like, I can teach you some dragon fighting techniques."
Drake grinned, "Combat instruction from a six year old?"
The huge dragon herm shrugged her well-muscled shoulders, "Only chronologically. My mental enhancement mods have me on par with a twenty five year old dragon." She looked down at her flat chest, "Now if only my hormones would catch up with what's inside my tail."
"Inside your tail?" Drake asked, blinking.
"Yeah, it's some sort of weird mod, I actually have most of my long term memory and body systems control features in the top bit of my tail rather than up in my head. Weird huh?"
"Yeah, I'll say." The fox said with a nod.
The dragoness looked up at the stars and sighed, "I wonder which of my parents I got that particular mod from."
"You're lucky you don't know your parents." Drake said, placing a hand that had only just recently regained feeling on Aya's shoulder, "I got put into foster care because mine were stim addicts. It's why I signed onto the mercenary system. There's a chain of command, and if I'm treated terribly, there's always someone to report to.
Aya nodded.
Drake stretched and winced, "And at least the beatings are scheduled."
The dragoness laughed and grinned at Drake, "I think I like you, Cadet Drake."
The fox grinned sheepishly, "Does that mean you'll go easy on me in the rematch?"
"Not on your life!"
"Well, I had to ask." The fox said with a sigh, pondering the future of his poor, abused ribs. |
New Found Fur
Ty groaned as he heard the all too familiar sound of scratching at his bedroom door, and the soft, pleading whimpers that accompanied it. With a sleepy sigh he slipped from beneath the covers and plodded to the door, opening it and letting the upset canine into the bedroom.
He had known of rather clingy canines in the past that got nervous and started to whimper and whine when their owners left home to go to work, or even were in a different room. But a wolf shouldn't be doing such a thing; especially one that, as far as he knew, had lived in the wild all her life. She'd dashed in front of his car on his way to work, and had gotten a broken leg and a few broken ribs for her trouble.
If Ty had been anything else but a veterinarian, the she-wolf might not have made it. Once the anesthetic had worn off, however, he was faced with a creature that certainly didn't act like a wolf ought to.
She had wagged her tail the first time he had walked into the kennels, and all the subsequent times. But when he'd gone in at the end of the day to turn off lights, she would whine and whimper and howl. The noise disturbed the neighbors, so he was forced to bring her home with him.
He had no idea why he'd do such a thing, but Bella, as he'd taken to calling her, never growled, never snarled, never pulled her lips back from her teeth in a display of aggression.
Ty was changing his mind about the wilderness thing; the wolf was housebroken, after all, and seemed to understand things that he asked of her. She'd even figured out how to open the fridge, without any prompting or training from Ty.
Bella had been with him for three months now; her injuries had healed long ago. Ty had tried to release her back into the wild, twice, but each time he had found Bella sleeping on his doorstep the next morning.
The wolf was increasingly clingy, refusing to leave his side for even a moment. The last few nights she'd begun to insist on sharing Ty's bed, her soft, furry body curled up under the covers next to him.
Ty sighed as the wolf hopped up onto the bed and promptly stuck her nose under the blankets, tossing them up so she could crawl under. He shook his head and followed, Bella hadn't done anything, but Ty was still very wary about having a one hundred and forty pound apex predator cuddled up next to him.
He sighed and closed his eyes, drifting back to sleep. He began to dream, finding himself in a forest, seated on a rock next to a beautiful young woman with long, white-grey hair and golden eyes.
She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him, which Ty accepted. They were soon in each others' arms, clothes being scattered to the winds, her skin was soft against his, and they were soon locked in sensual embrace.
Ty gasped at the strong, powerful sensation, more real than any wet dream he'd ever had. He felt... strange, there was a weight on his legs that didn't match up with anything in the dream.
And as Ty grew increasingly aware that it was indeed a dream, sleep began to rapidly slip away from him, and he found himself waking up. The sensation of weight on his legs was most assuredly that of Bella. The odd thing was that the powerful stimulation of his member continued.
Teeth. He felt teeth. And a ridged, canine mouth roof, and a long, wolven tongue lapping at his shaft. His first thought was "There is a wolf giving me oral sex", his second "Wolves don't engage in oral sex", his third "Wow, this feels really good", it wasn't until his fourth that "There are very sharp teeth in a very sensitive place" came to mind.
Bella had never done anything that could be considered remotely close to being dangerous or threatening towards Ty, so he winced and slid his hands under the covers, hoping to coax her head away from his cock.
He reached down and gripped her ears gently, trying to pull her away. But Bella had gotten it into her head to do this, and she simply moved her head downward, overpowering the gentle pull.
"Oh come on... mmm... Bella, st-stop it." Ty gasped. The wolf was really good at this, better than any of Ty's few oral encounters, and quite frankly it was his first sexual act with something else in a long time, he worked himself hard and didn't take much time for social matters.
It wasn't... so bad. In fact it wasn't bad at all. If it had been a woman between his legs instead of a she-wolf, Ty wouldn't have given it a second thought. The she-wolf seemed very fond of him and well... he had kind of started to enjoy having her around. He hadn't realized how lonely his life had been until she had arrived.
"O=okay... just this once." The vet said with a sigh. Rather than trying to pull her away, his grip on her ears was used to help him thrust into Bella's eager maw. Ty could feel her tail brushing over his shins as she showed her happiness that Ty was enjoying himself.
The human moaned loudly and thrust his hips as best he could, his member pushing as far into Bella's mouth as it could. The climax Ty felt was powerful, pent up sexual need that had gone ignored for far too long.
As the human laid back and basked in the afterglow of his climax, Bella cleaned him up and finally climbed off of him. The wolf lay down next to Ty, resting her head on his chest.
Ty rolled onto his side, hugging Bella, stroking her back, enjoying the feeling of her soft fur against his bare skin. He could feel strange movements under her skin, gentle pulls, occasional pops, and a general stretching sensation.
"What's happening to you?" He asked, tossing the covers aside for a better looks.
As Ty watched, the wolf's body began to change, her limbs growing longer and thicker, forepaws growing larger, the short toes lengthening. Her canine torso began to flatten, growing wider, but shallower. In a few moments it was obvious that she was most definitely becoming more humanoid.
Bella looked down at herself, then up at Ty, eyes questioning. The human smiled, "Don't be scared." He whispered, "I'll take care of you, no matter what you look like."
He found himself leaning forward, his lips meeting her muzzle for a kiss. Her muzzle opened, allowing the human's probing tongue within. Ty found himself erect almost immediately. His inhibitions toward her seemed to have crumbled completely towards her. If he'd have stopped to think about it, he might've found it odd. But he didn't stop; he pushed himself gently into her.
He couldn't stop himself; he craved the touch of her soft fur against his body, the sweet sensation of her inner walls around his aching shaft. Bella returned his embrace, her forelegs now proper arms, even if her paws were still paws.
Ty felt a gentle push against his chest, and he moved a hand from Bella's back to find one of her new breasts, which he began to caress. He broke the kiss and looked into her amber eyes, a smile on his face as he spoke, "My turn to please you."
The respite from the kiss only lasted for that moment, as the two were locked into a passionate kiss once more, Bella's muzzle shorter now, her face and head more human-like, much as her body had been.
She panted as her lover drove his manhood into her, the sensation foreign, as she had never mated face to face before, having always been mounted from behind like the animal she had been.
It was so different, gentle and loving. His hands were not simply gripping her, they were pleasing her, caressing her, adding to the sensation, making her feel good. Not just slaking his lust, but rather making sure both of them enjoyed it.
The she-wolf's eyes began to tear as she clung to her human lover. The feelings she had for Ty were beyond any that she had been capable of as a normal wolf, the complex thoughts and desires that had filled her confused mind months before, filling her with such confusion and dread that she had rushed out in front of the car, hoping the frightening strangeness that filled her mind would flee in the face of the pain, or that...
She banished the thought from her mind, she had been confused then, and she no longer feared the complexities and oddness of her conscious mind. She loved her life now, she belonged along side humans, perhaps she was even becoming one of them? Ty's embrace fulfilled her in ways she would never have imagined possible.
"T-Ty...." she whispered, her body now granting her the ability to speak, where once her words remained entirely in her mind. She cried out with pleasure, lightly clawed fingertips digging into Ty's back, pulling him as tightly against her as the she-wolf could bring him.
She quaked as her pleasure rocked her, rocked her in ways that her fully canine form and mind would never have allowed. With her climax, her body surged, finishing her transformation. She was bigger than before, heavier. Whereas she had been a somewhat large wolf, she was the size of a very, very large human.
Her lover seemed so tiny in comparison to her, so soft and small, in need of protecting. Ty looked up at her with awed wonder, and expression that was soon obscured by Bella's more human face, her muzzle short and blunt, more like a reminder of what once had been.
The she-wolf felt a strange sensation between her legs, a dull, throbbing, warm ache. She reached down with one of her new hands and gripped what she found there. Thick, throbbing, and already slick with pre-cum was a member of her own. She wasn't quite sure where it came from, but she knew exactly what she was going to do with it.
Ty opened his mouth to speak, but found a grey furred finger over his lips, "Sssh, my mate..." Bella whispered, "You've shown me what it is to make love as a human. Now let me show you what it is like to mate as a wolf."
The human simply nodded; his mind still lust-fogged despite his two rapid-fire climaxes. He didn't resist as Bella rolled him onto his belly, coaxing him up on all fours. He hadn't a second thought about the slick, bestial prick that his beautiful she-wolf rubbed teasing against his backside before coaxing it in.
He moaned as she entered him, her member a strange, hot presence within him. He cried out as she thrust hard into him, pushing the swelling knot at the base inside him to tie them together.
"Mmm... now you can't get away until I'm done with you," Bella said with a grin, "And afterwards you're stuck with me, and you'll have to cuddle, like it or not." She teased.
She leaned down, wrapping her arms around her lover's waist, she wasn't going to give him the full wolf experience. After all, human skin was attached all over the place, you couldn't get a good grip on it with your teeth without hurting them. Plus she wanted her male to thoroughly enjoy the act. He had taken her in, treated her well, trusted her to share his bed, the least she could do in return was grant him the best pleasure that she knew how.
Her softly padded handpaw curled around the human's shaft, stroking him rapidly. As she thrust into him, his body pressed back against her own, she felt strange sensations over his body, beneath the skin, which seemed to be loosening up a bit, like a wolf's.
Bella giggled with delight at the prospect of her lover becoming a bit more canine, just as she had become a bit more human. She willed his changes onward, wanting him to feel the wonder of a wonderful new body.
She felt his member change first. The tube-shaped human length quivered in her hand is it grew larger, longer, the head vanishing, the length narrowing and transforming to end in a point. She felt the knot swell at the base, and lavished attention upon it. She couldn't wait until she could feel it inside of her, the best of both worlds.
Soft, grey fur soon covered her lover's body, Ty's soft human skin replaced by a thick, gorgeous pelt. Bella grinned as she leaned down and took the scuff of her mate's neck into her mouth, biting down gently. Ty cried out as her thrusts began to gain in power as she made him unable to control his own movements. She pulled him up out of his crouch and into a kneel, nearly lifting him into the air, trapped against her body.
The arm that gripped her lover's chest felt something strange, a pressure against her body, as if something were pressing against her. Moving her arm just a little bit she discovered the cause. It seemed that just as she had become partially male, it seemed that her mate was becoming partially female to ensure the perfect match.
Much as Ty had done earlier, Bella took a breast in her hand and began to caress it. She could feel her lover's form shifting, a masculine body acquiring feminine curves and shaped, but still retaining an echo of the male form that had been there.
Ty twitched her new, triangular ears, which tickled as they moved positions on her head. She wasn't sure how much longer she could go on, she'd been trying to hold back, prevent herself from climaxing until her mate had signaled her own pleasure.
The new sensations of new parts, the gentle tingle of her transforming body, the soft, strong warmth that embraced her so tightly, it was all too much.
Ty threw her head back, her face pressing forward into a small, blunt muzzle, and howled to signal her pleasure. The grip on her neck scruff vanished and Bella's howl joined her lover's.
The two lay on top of the covers, panting with the efforts of their coupling. Ty pressed back against Bella, her head sandwiched between her larger lover's breasts. The former male didn't mind, she rather liked having a strong, sexy she-wolf to protect her.
Ty giggled as the larger herm's tongue caressed her ears, she tilted her head upward, allowing their tongues to meet in a wolven kiss.
The former human smiled at her mate, "So, how are we going to go about making a pack for ourselves then?" she asked with a grin.
Bella snorted, "A pack?! Urf, I've worn myself out with just you, and you want to go and add more?"
Ty nodded and grinned.
The big herm sighed and nodded, "If that is what my mate wants, it is what she will get. Though you have to remember that you're going to be responsible for any new pack members you decide to adopt. I'm not going to be snuggling them for you, you know."
"But I would hope that you'd be snuggling them with me."
"Oh yes, I most definitely will. Such is one of the alpha's duties to his... her... whatever... pack. Now that I've started thinking about it there is this rather cute park ranger..." |
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