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CW: FMG, muscle worship, extreme muscle, GTS, blood, gore. Dinah threw up. Her bile sent up steam from the cold gray dust, but it was somehow less revolting a sight than Ellie. Her beloved Ellie. If that… muscle thing could be called Ellie anymore. If Ellie still somehow was alive, trapped inside. At all times of day and on into the darkest hours of night, Dinah could hear her screaming. More than her tortured imagination, she could hear with her own ears the choking, drowning, suffocating cries, wordless calls for help, the groans of sadistic violent pleasure that must be tyrannizing Ellie’s mind, the moaning for ultimate release, the shrieks of immeasurable agony emanating from somewhere deep within the mountain that her lover had become. Dinah wiped her mouth and dared to look behind her at the mountain of flesh, risking her stomach churning again if only to ensure she was out of the way and not in danger of being crushed and smashed into pulp. Dinah assured herself that she hadn’t lost her mind, yet. She remembered when the old man had not been so careful or perhaps when he had let his own unchecked obsession get the best of him. He was the cause of all this. He was the one that pushed her. Always pushed her. Pushed her to gain the weight cause he knew she could take it. Forced her to devour piles of raw meat until she was ready to burst. Ruined her femininity, destroyed her once petite body, turned her into this. He was the last to dare to touch Ellie. Whether out of fascination, curiosity, or service, he paid for it with his life when he risked giving her the release her body screamed for. He stroked her immense clitoris. Moments later, the last scraps of his head and torso disappeared, chewed up as if in a grinding garbage disposal by the jaws of her womanhood. Dinah didn’t sleep for a week. The old man had loved Ellie, in his own… unique way. Dinah knew that she and Ellie once possessed a love that went deeper than the base physical attraction that dominated male life. Dinah prided herself on that. Sniffling, she muttered the name of her half-forgotten lover: “Ellie…” Did Ellie even know Joel was gone? Did she even know what her body did to him without hesitation? Dinah wondered and reminisced, knees shaking as she got to her feet. Behind her, the writhing shadow of Ellie’s out of control body loomed in the pale morning light, exactly where Dinah had left it the night before but now clearly even bigger and more grotesque than the night before. Frozen dew sparkled like gemstones across the crags of her overturned form. Veins that seemed like huge octopus tentacles coiled and uncoiled with her heartbeat. Caverns formed and collapsed in the spaces where her arms used to be. The throbbing epidermis was covered with gashes that did not bleed, torn skin that did not entirely heal, always slick with pungent sweat that evaporated in gray wisps of steam in the wintry air. The sex smell… it was like that but a thousand times stronger. Ellie had become a wailing, seething mass of fibers that went about breaking and repairing endlessly, a ball of twine where each thread represented the constantly shifting tectonic plates of her inhuman musculature starving for room, fighting for space against one another. The sound of her endless muscle expansion was like a perpetual landslide of rock hard granite or leather being stretched until its tearing point. Her marbled flesh, crisscrossed with a vascularity that somehow redefined the laws of biology, pocked with the tapestry of bruises, lacerations, and shredded bulk, undulated, pulsing like a heart fit to power the planet itself. Yes, when one part of her didn’t spasm into an irregular flex, Ellie had become a sphere of a human being. Because her muscles had so exceeded their boundaries, it would likely be impossible for anyone but those accustomed to her grotesqueness to pick out what was what anymore–Dinah prided herself on that, as well, though not without gagging that needed stifling. Her pecs were so pressed together that the ravine between them was unimaginably deep, a viciously tight crack that buried her rib cage somewhere far beneath. Her chest piled up like two rolling hillsides, bursting up over the two biceps that pressed pincer-like in front of them, so massive that they actually touched while being forced away from each other by the bloated abdominal wall beneath them. Her fingers and hands, like her toes and feet, had long since disappeared, wrapped in impenetrable sheaths of corded steel–Dinah believed that Ellie’s skeleton hadn’t grown inside of all this mass, how could it? Instead, she imagined that Ellie’s skeletal structure was being pulled apart in all directions, an endless struggle to find even one more inch to fill up with raw, excruciatingly powerful muscle. With no inches left to give, the only way to go was outward. A gigantic nipple might stab like the head of a demolition drill out of the tangled mess but otherwise, it was a parody of anatomy enshrined to strength forsaking all else. Pecs overwhelmed her face. Her own neck and back crashed down over her head. Her shoulders were swollen enough to nearly touch above her. Her thighs grinded against the bottom of her chest. Her ass smashed against the corrugated scenery of her back. She was an oceanless vision of continents, Pangea made flesh. Ever growing with that sickening gurgling, stretching, grating sound. Numb with ritual, Dinah’s body also moved without her express request. In a blind act of repetitive obedience, she found herself climbing into the nearby crane. It barely operated but it still did its work. In the past, they had used it to pile cars, tanks, pieces of architecture, boulders, anything they could find that was heavy enough to test Ellie’s increasing strength. They quickly ran out of suitable objects. In poor repair, the crane coughed to life. While the gas lasted, it was only good now for measuring Ellie’s… height? Her width? Girth? It was impossible to tell at this point. Dinah swallowed the nausea coming up to her throat again at the thought of needing a crane to measure a human, glancing once more at Ellie. Irresistibly glancing. Fascinated. Repulsed. Obsessed. Disgusted. Enchanted. Her eyes saw the numbers on the scale carved into the crane’s boom hoist cylinder. Crude, but it got the job done. She saw the numbers… nearly 30 feet… she was almost 30 whole feet tall… across? Wide? Dinah’s mind reeled. She saw the numbers but barely read them. Numbers had long ago become meaningless. There was no way to weigh Ellie anymore. Their old equipment for that had long been crushed beyond repair. Ellie could be a ton or hundreds of tons… what did it matter? The crane’s engine sputtered into silence. At times like this, Dinah’s mind drifted and she dreamed. She dreamed of what might happen if she let the crane drop. Load it up with the wreckage of their vehicles, the beams from the yard, whatever she could find, then just let it fall. Let it fall and see… see if she could kill her. Dinah could crack her wide open like a red egg. End the nightmare. End Ellie’s suffering. Shouldn’t she do it, try it? Wouldn’t it be the right thing to do to end Ellie’s torment…? “The right thing to do,” Dinah’s hand trembled over the crane’s controls. She’d lost track of so much time. The journal Joel had kept that she herself then tried to keep after his passing had been lost. It was probably lying crushed under the twisted metal and gravel. Lost so much time… Dinah couldn’t even remember when Ellie last ate any food. “God…” she choked, tears stinging her eyes like acid. She realized she’d been starving her. Depriving her. Had it been a week? No. Much longer. The realization broke through her ritual like a knife in the back. There were no more animals left to feed to Ellie. Everything was gone. All that was left was Ellie. Endlessly Ellie. Extreme muscle growth Ellie. Nothing could stop her, not even deprivation. Ellie could survive lack of food, lack of water–how could she still live?–perpetually locked in a loop of gaining more and more mass. Was there a limit? Dinah fought through her sobs and gags. Could there be a limit? Would she some day break open like a dam, release a flood of her genetically-superior blood over the mountainside, filling the valley below with her death and presence, soaking into the planet, becoming the earth itself? Or would it never stop? Dinah grabbed her own hands and sat on them. She could not kill the beast. Nothing could. But would it kill her? If Dinah couldn’t stop the unending transformation that had claimed her lover, would her lover’s transformation eventually kill her? The awful thought of being buried alive in Ellie’s muscles shot through her brain like a lightning bolt. But if that was to be her fate… if Ellie was indeed still alive and could not be killed… then Dinah would accept it. Better to die, even in such a horrible manner, at the thoughtless crushing expansion of the most powerful human that had ever lived, rather than simply be shot by a thug or eaten by a clicker. Better to be enveloped by the unwelcoming brutality of Ellie’s existence. A goddess. Dinah’s drifting mind had never thought of it but in the space between waking and sleeping dreams, as her sheer exhaustion and worry began to claim her, she suddenly thought of Ellie as a goddess. More than human, of course. She might become her own planet, like Jupiter. Or Venus, better yet. Dinah’s eyes rolled back. She’d rest a bit in that thought: Ellie outgrowing the planet, putting it out of its misery since she hadn’t the will or know-how to put Ellie out of hers. Shining in the sky. Shimmering in the darkness. She didn’t realize it, Ellie consuming her waking thoughts as she had consumed everything but, that she let her left hand slide up and over her hip, then down between her legs. Dinah was groping herself through her jeans. She did it mindlessly, a machine worshiping a machine within the cradle of the old rusted crane… (read the rest of the story and complete library at patreon.com/pumpculture)

CW: FMG, muscle worship, macro muscle, extreme muscle. (read part 2) Joel was scared. He'd been scared for longer than he could remember. He hardly slept. When he did sleep, his dreams were tortured memories. He had developed shakes in his hands, itchy trigger fingers, nervous tics. He saw Clickers in every shadow, men with guns in every doorway. But over time, his fear had changed. It had evolved into repulsion, disgust, terror. He was afraid of Ellie, his own daughter, his baby girl. She would not stop growing. That nightmarish thought occurred to him on a cold Winter's day in late-January. There were only two months left. He would push Ellie until she had nothing left. He kept pushing past that until she began to beg, all the sanity draining out of her bloodshot eyes. He pushed her past even that until she was a convulsing mess, a steaming, musky, sweat-stained, breathless pile of bright red stretch marks, bubbling veins, raw sinew and muscle fibers swollen past all recognition. She stood there sobbing uncontrollably, too bloated with muscles screaming in their outright torture to even think about reaching up to cover her own reddened face, even if she actually had her hands free. Hell, her shredded, over-inflated biceps alone prevented her from even making a right angle with her elbows anymore. That was when Joel had an epiphany. It was as if the gray skies opened up and a voice said "life is pain". He had gone way past pushing her so she could be strong enough. Way past trying to shape her into the ultimate woman. She was no longer a woman. She was a weapon, a machine, a virus, infected with a never-ending, annihilating growth just like the Clickers themselves. Joel realized he was past the point of pushing her to grow. He had been pushing her to get her to stop. To break. To get her to cease her torment. But there was no stopping. This was life. She was life. They had to go on. They had no choice. The door couldn't be closed anymore. The growth couldn't be stopped. That was the day his baby girl became his nightmare. Joel's cracked voice which had trailed off came back with a vengeance, stronger and more determined: "Go on, lift! Push it up! C'mon! Like that! Don't quit! You're not weak! Fight! Fight or die trying!" She was doing squats. Under a compressed tank. Loaded with boulders strapped with chains on top. Additional boulders could be loaded from the top of the precipice and the weight could be adjusted with the help of two cranes that operated the steel wires attached to the chains, lowering or raising the whole heap. Joel had given up attempting to estimate how much weight she could lift. He simply added more weight. Every day meant more weight. Never enough. But this particular rig had had enough weight. Ellie had just crossed into triple digits for her reps, arms balancing the heft of the tank and its avalanche of boulders upon her shoulders like she was the mythical Atlas, when a wire snapped. One of the cranes began to bend in half like a plastic straw. Unable to control the amount of weight, the entire thing came down on Ellie, pushing her feet into the cracking stony ground. But she held it up, the entire weight, all by herself. The whining of rusted metal shattering, the slicing sounds of wires whipping through the icy air, chains pulling, boulders shifting, the tank groaning under the weight... all that noise nearly drowned out Ellie's screams. Joel stiffened, watching her, completely helpless. His cranes were toast. His controls were useless. He couldn't hope to help her lift it. But then, her screams turned into an animal roar and that roar turned into a violent, guttural bellow, deeper and more intense than any human Joel had ever heard before. Spittle flew from Ellie's howling mouth, dripped from her purple face and bare fangs, as the whole rig shook and her body miraculously, hideously, revoltingly, explosively responded. Joel couldn't believe his eyes. Her veins spread and seemed to multiply, a popping, undulating, throbbing mesh. With so much mass to feed, her blood and heart worked overtime, rising to the occasion to feed the swelling beast and glut every muscle past its distended, garish limit. Ellie's pulsing meat filled up every available space. (access the full story and library at patreon.com/pumpculture for just $5 a month)

CW: FMG, muscle worship, f/f. Thick white suds and streams of cold water ran down Ellie’s gargantuan body, steam rising up from her overheated muscles in the dim fluorescent light of the butcher’s kitchen. The abandoned facility was the largest room with running water that they could find. Ignoring the vicious meat hooks still hanging in rows along the ceiling became a necessity. It might seem like a cruel space, but it was the only space big enough to bathe Ellie in, except for the freezing lake a mile down the mountain. Ellie hadn’t used a shower since she was 16. Far too cramped. At age 17, she was already too wide for most doors. Now, at age 18, Dina had to hose her down and use a brush and a sponge at the end of poles in order to scrub off the sweat and mud from her bruised and stretch-mark-scarred skin. Dina daren’t stick her hands between the deep crevices of those freakishly bloated muscles. The bones of her fingers might snap with an involuntary flex. Ellie couldn’t always control what her body did. But Dina didn’t mind. Sure, things were different now… When Joel had first introduced the idea of getting stronger in order to survive -- We’re put here on this godforsaken Earth to survive, at all costs, he would say -- the idea of putting on some muscle seemed novel, if not hilarious. Ellie was nowhere close to muscular four years ago and none of them could’ve imagined how much weight she continued to gain. Rapidly. If anything, the rate at which she packed on more mass had increased over the years, not diminished. At first, Ellie and Dina, girlfriends, teased each other about the differences in their weight. Dina always thought the new definition and toning was attractive. Then Ellie’s mind began to change, growing more obsessed as her body grew larger. At some point, Dina began wondering where it would stop as it became apparent that Ellie’s body was responding better than anticipated, but that was long before it spiraled out of control. Now Dina was bathing her like she was cattle. At first, baths were fun and new, even as Ellie’s muscles became frighteningly, alarmingly extreme. They played with the water, shot each other with the hose, and giggled, sometimes wrestled. Now? The air was thick with vapor and humiliation. They didn’t laugh. They didn’t even talk. They were disconnected, clinically so. Dina assumed the role of the nurse. Ellie was the patient. They didn’t look each other in the eye. Dina could tell that it bothered Ellie to have to be washed like an animal, like a semi truck, but she couldn’t find it in herself to comfort her. All there was was the writhing muscular barricade of the body her girlfriend was trapped in. Sometimes Joel talked about Ellie’s miracle, the thought of a cure residing in her genes, how maybe it was her genes that turned her into… this. Next spring, he estimated she would outgrow the butcher’s kitchen. He talked about designing a shower system for her with the bulldozer and a water tower. Joel talked about a lot of things. Mostly survival. Being prepared. He was disconnected in his own way. When he looked at Ellie, she felt like he was looking at someone else, either at somebody from his past who she reminded him of... or somebody he was trying to shape her into. Ellie, staring at the puddles on the cement floor, raised one of her colossal arms. Even a task as simple as that had become difficult, nevermind properly bathing herself without assistance. Dina adjusted the gray strap of her tank top while she waited, bravely enduring the creaking noise of Ellie’s bones hefting all that weight, and the tightening sounds of Ellie’s muscles contracting and stretching. She grabbed hold of one of the big stainless steel hooks, lightly. Ellie’s bicep, the size of a couch cushion, grazed across the side of her cheek, brushing an errant strand of her brown hair over her cute, freckled face. For a moment, Ellie’s green eyes looked up at Dina and their gaze met. Only for a moment. Ellie looked down at the floor again as Dina got to work scrubbing her girlfriend’s armpit. Shame but acceptance. Survive, at all costs... (access the full story at patreon.com/pumpculture)

CW: muscle growth, BE, height, giantess, godhood, fantasy violence, m/f. "Thanks, she'll love these," the big, bespectacled man said as he handed a few dollars to the vendor. "It's our d-dating anniversary." He remembered his stammer, made sure to trip on the curb as he turned to cross the street. An old woman was crossing too, coming toward him while a daydreaming driver sped down the road. The big man covered the side of his mouth and sneezed, and a sudden gust of wind pushed the truck into the next lane, swerving around the pedestrian. He smirked to himself and bid the old woman good afternoon as she passed him, completely oblivious. Adjusting his thick-rimmed specs, he remembered that time a close friend who was in on the secret asked him what would happen if somebody ever saw him without his glasses on. They just say 'Has anyone ever told you you kinda look like Superman?' He chuckled at the memory. And that's when he heard it. The sky was being split in half. Something seriously big was screaming toward the city, faster than a comet. Clark had less than a second to react. More than enough time. The asphalt where he stood a microsecond earlier cracked and his street clothes evaporated into ashes as he shot into the air, a blue and red blur too fast for the human eye to see. Over the coast and then the sea, he braced himself to collide with the object, ready to absorb the impact... that didn't come. The object stopped. It didn't slow down. It just stopped in mid-air. The atoms pulled in its wake cracked with a deafening boom. Wreathed in flames and iridescent light, its horrifying form dawned on Superman's mind. "...Kara?" His sharp eyes and photographic memory instantly identified her sweet, young face through the wisps of smoke and steam and embers. Her shining eyes stared right back into his, and he didn't recognize the rage and greed behind them. It was as if his cousin had been replaced from the inside out! Atop her head, a beacon of horned light shone its silken effulgence in shades of color only visible to kryptonian eyes like theirs. He had seen stars in remote galaxies less beautiful than her crown, its gilded opalescence melting into her platinum hair. "Hello, Kal." Her generous lips parted, showing a perfect, radiant smile that betrayed the gut-wrenching mass of the rest of her body. That gorgeous face of hers contrasted with all the hideous strength coursing through her hyper-expanded muscles, muscles so dense that Superman's x-ray vision couldn't even penetrate them. But his microscopic vision detected that the cells lining her skin were being bombarded with solar energy, radiation that looked as if it was being condensed into trillions of pinpoints through trillions of magnifying glasses. To eyes as perceptive as his, she was blinding. There was a sound like marble grinding against metal as her pecs bunched up under her cute chin, her traps swollen up under her ears, mounds of muscle naked and bursting with corrugated power like the rest of her body. Superman felt a wave of shame pass over him at the sight of those inhuman slabs on her chest, torn to shreds down the middle, hefting two breasts each wider than his shoulders, each thrusting like a balcony from the wall of her torso. What would Lois think? But he couldn't look away, couldn't rip his eyes away from the most impressive physique he'd ever seen. And he had seen many. Despite the extreme mass packed onto her womanly frame, her symmetry was otherworldly. He caught himself drooling over her bursting T-shaped torso snaked with throbbing veins, her tapered waist overcrowded with abdominals fighting for space, her bulging obliques that somehow maintained her feminine curves, her hairless quivering sex, her chasmic thighs that looked like they were gashes rent out of solid titanium, her calves like gigantic, neolithic spearheads crafted from boulders... "Impressed?" her feminine voice was like the sound of starlight that only their alien race could hear, entrancing and awe-inspiring but coupled with a girlish teasing tone completely out of sync with such a grotesquely shredded and massive body. Even hovering in mid-air, she seemed to tower over him. His eyes followed hers. She looked over to her arm, raising, curling, clenching her fist. The goddess moaned aloud as she flexed a bicep, a huge peaking volcano of muscle that continued to engorge itself, fibers ripping and rebuilding, veins clawing, until it soared to its full peaking glory. And she brought her arm to her face and licked her own bicep, kissed it, eyes rolling back, lost in the bliss of so much inflated immensity. Her sweet saliva rolled down the bulbous curves of her arm like a drop of honey. Her other arm, he just noticed, held something behind her back. "Ohh my muscles feel so good... so strong..." "How...?" Superman found his voice. "...What happened?" "Maybe I finally soaked up enough sun by stepping out of your shadow," she looked at him, hungrily, even angrily. Superman caught her tone and tried to react to the situation. "Kara... you don't belong here. Not like this. You're not in your right mind..." Then the warning. He always gave a warning. Bad habit. "You need to get as far away from Metropolis as you can. Now." Kara sneered a bright grin. "Always the boss. Always acting like the big tough man. The whole world looks up to you. But how could I ever have done that? Hahaha, look at you!" He was a scrawny scarecrow before her, a boy in a costume, no more. Her eyes could see straight through him, penetrating his cells and his thoughts, his physiology and his psyche "Now you'll look up to me!" She began to fly toward him, toward the city, slowly, unstoppably. As her huge chest approached him, Superman backed up, every ounce of his being wanting to reach out and touch this embodiment of the ultimate power fantasy while every iota of his good nature reminded him to be a good boy. "Kara! Stop!" he said, "STOP!" The ocean waves beneath them billowed at the force of his voice, but even a command so powerful couldn't stop her. Still she approached, so immense and so close that her chest began to eclipse the radiance of her face and her crown. A meteor irresistibly falling toward humanity's extinction. "Kara? I'm not Kara, little man," daggers of light stabbed from her eyes, "I am the Goddess of War." Superman glanced back at the city, millions of lives clustered in streets and skyscrapers and suburbs, counting on him. He turned back toward Kara and was greeted with the gray, skeletal, sapped body of Supergirl, writhing like a worm on a hook, dangling from her tattered cape which was gripped tight in Power Girl's fist. Superman's temper simmered at the sight of her crumpled husk and the sound of her faint heartbeat. "Oh my God, what--" "She dared to defy me, Kal-El," the goddess responded, still approaching, "What will you do? Will you protect your city and end up like she did? Or will you bow down and worship the new empress of Earth?" "Let her go, Power Girl! NOW!" Superman threw the first punch. She shut her eyes and laughed, a twinkling sound like golden chimes and bells, and caught his fist in her own. Although his hand was bigger, she flexed and they both felt the bones in his fingers snap. "You chose poorly." The halo of light from her head turned into an inferno of colors. She pushed against Superman's fist and he found himself hurtling backward, his fall a blazing knife cutting open the sky. He impacted the street with a cloud of dust and broken asphalt, then a splash of water as his body punctured a water main. He was already in the air again. The goddess was still slowly descending. Superman grit his teeth and poured his energies into his eyes, blasting a barrage of heat vision that hit her square in the chest. He heard a horrifying noise: she scoffed at his assault. He roared as his red beams turned almost white, hot enough to melt any metal on Earth. Then he felt himself suddenly pulled forward, completely off balance. Power Girl had grabbed hold of his heat vision, fingers closing over the rows of searing light particles and she yanked him out of thin air. As he pitched toward the ground, he caught himself and took to the air again. People were beginning to react and break into a run, evacuating the scene as windows along the sides of skyscrapers shattered, waterfalls of glass tumbling to the walks below. As he flew, he spun himself like a drill and the air whirled around him, turning into a dark tornado that continued to grow in size. The super storm blackened the skies over the city and swallowed the goddess. The winds howled about her, still she descended at the same floating pace. "You think you can threaten my city? Leave NOW!" Superman's voice echoed on the wind. His fists landed across her back, her chest, her shoulders. His punches could crush moons. The sound of his attack was like bombs detonating. "Pff! Pathetic!" the goddess raised her arms to block her face, if only intuitively, throwing Supergirl's husk of a body to the ground below. "Don't tell me you're the one who brought together the Justice League, who humbled Darkseid, who once pushed planets out of orbit, who lifted infinity and survived death itself? You're nothing but an anachronism. A has-been. A boy scout helping old women across the street. Your time in the sun is over." His fists pummeled her impenetrable stomach, peppered her legs, faster than the human eye could see, all to distract from a single punch he prepared and landed right on the naked mound of her groin. Power Girl doubled over in sudden pain, shock filling her eyes as she sucked in air, as if she'd forgotten what pain felt like. Before she could catch her breath, she felt Superman's feet collide with the back of her head. She came crashing down into the shoreline below. The blast of her impact flattened nearby palm trees and showered sand and water vapor through the air. "You came barking up the wrong tree, Power Girl. I don't know what Ares has done to you, but we're going to reign this in together." Superman descended straight down and lighted on the beach, arms crossed. The Goddess of War shot toward him many times faster than a speeding bullet, too fast for the Man of Steel to avoid. She tackled him to the ground, a mountain of muscle too huge to wrestle. Her crushing hand was on his face. She tore his head off, screaming, enraged. Oil and wires leaked from his neck. Her magnifying vision recognized highly advanced kryptonian tech. A decoy! Hands of flesh closed around her head. She felt Superman dig his feet into her shoulders, one hand pulling up hard under her chin. His other hand slipped under the burning rim of her helmet and he yelled out in pain. Then he flew from his perch, tearing off the helm of war with him. A thunderclap echoed through her brain as the merged minds of Ares and Power Girl were severed. Shuddering, feeling suddenly far too heavy to stand, her whole body aching, her joints cracking, her muscles sore beyond words, Power Girl fell to her knees in the sand, panting. A wave of weakness and nausea hit her, marooned and shipwrecked inside of a body too muscular to move, the last remnants of her ruined costume hanging from her like cobwebs. She scrambled across the sand, coughing, drooling, all the light drained from her face. "So this was the cause of all this trouble?" Superman stood above her, red boots planted on the ground. He looked like a god. The perfect man, perfectly handsome and resolute. He turned the helmet of war round and round in his hands. It had reverted to its old steely blue appearance, hollow and dark. "Ares' helmet, the helm of War. Diana warned us about the Olympians before. They're treacherous. They can even turn someone as good natured as you into a monster." His eyes were full of pity. "...Kal..." Power Girl groaned. "Help me... I feel..." she spit bile into the sand. "So sick..." "You were sick, Kara. It's over now. Let me help you, please." He bent down and pressed his forehead against hers. "I'm so sorry." "I'm sorry..." her knee collided with his balls as her arms flung out and grabbed him. It took every last bit of strength she had. As he gasped, agony radiating from his groin, she whispered in his ear and wrenched the helmet from his grasp: "Idiot. Your kindness was always your weakness." As she placed the helmet back on her head, her body flared back to life. Rays of light sprung from her mouth and eyes, her face lit up with heavenly beauty, her health returned and doubled, she rose to her full height, several feet taller than Kal. Her hand was around his throat. She picked him up and slammed him into the ground, over and over, like a strangled rag doll. "You son of bitch! You goddamn pompous bastard!" she shrieked, her rage burning brighter and brighter, "You soaked up power and adoration for years, keeping me around like a fucking sidekick to clean up your mess!" She held him high by his neck, felt his energy flowing out of him... into her. "You feasted on their worship! You basked in the warmth of so much glory and kept it all to yourself!" She threw him. His body sailed through the air and collided with a skyscraper. Everyone had fled. Nobody was there to see his defeat at the hands of the Goddess of War... nobody except for Daily Planet reporter, Lois Lane, who had raced in a hijacked taxi to the oceanside. "Clark!" she cried. "Claaaaaaaark," the goddess teased, "I'm not done playing with you..." Superman gathered himself from the wreckage and staggered out onto the sidewalk and into the street. The Goddess of War was coming closer. He could feel the heat radiating from her immense body, like the sun. Except unlike the sun, she seemed to sap his strength rather than enhance it. Justice League! Priority K! Respond! he reached out for the telepathic web cast by J'onn J'onnzz, the Martian Manhunter. He had to call for help, he was weakening fast. Superman? Where are you? J'onn's voice rang through his synapses. Metropolis! Hurry! "Calling your friends, Kal? What a coward," Power Girl shook her head, "The world doesn't need cowards. It needs a Goddess! It needs War!" Her thunderous footsteps brought her nearer, shaking the whole city block. "Lois! Get back!" Superman shouted as his lover ran closer. "Worry about yourself, you goddamn pest!" the Goddess of War raised a massive leg and stomped his body into the ground. Before he could fly away, she sat on his hips. Her weight knocked the breath out of him. She pressed her pillar-like thighs against him like a vice. He winced as he felt a rib snap and his heart began to race with a rare feeling: fear. He looked up. Another mistake. Above him, Power Girl ran her fingers over the perfect symmetry of her bloated muscular body, the heaving slabs of her chest, the cannons of her arms, the chiseled columns of her abs. Her hands slid to her waist, balling into fists at her hips. "Look at me, Man of Tomorrow!" She began to flex, rhythmically gyrating her pelvis, grinding her wet pussy against his bulge. His breath was taken away. "LOOK AT ME!" He had no choice. The sight of her tensing, inflating, furrowed, gruesome muscles filled his vision. Her monolithic breasts began to bounce above him. He couldn't help but get hard for her, for all that insane, inhuman power packed onto the once petite (albeit busty) frame of her body. "LOOK AT ME, KRYPTONIAN! AND DESPAIR!" She flexed harder, only now her muscles weren't swelling from the flex, but actually filling up with energy like liquid filling up water balloons, like molten magma pouring directly into her white hot veins. "You've fought many battles, Superman! You've endured many wars, here on Earth and across the galaxy! Now all of your power, all of your skill, all of your battle prowess and experience belongs to me! All war must come together to feed the Goddess of War!" Superman felt himself getting weaker, not unlike the revolting sensation of being exposed to kryptonite, only he could see his powers flowing out of him and into his cousin riding on top of him. Power Girl leaned back, raised both arms and flexed. Her whole body exploded with additional mass. She did it again, her biceps rising higher, her forearms growing thicker, her waist tighter, her chest wider, her shoulders bigger. Her thighs swelled against him until they were each bigger around than his body. Her head disappeared behind a blockade of seething, undulating, super-freakish muscle. Superman wondered how much more she could take, and every moment saw his terror deepening, Lois sobbing in the background as he shrank and shriveled and dumped his strength into her. Power Girl was surprised by the endless drain, too. "There's more? MORE? FUCK. ME." Her muscular pussy grabbed his cock like iron jaws. His member throbbed uncontrollably, assaulted beyond reason, harder than he'd ever been before, so hard it hurt. From the colossal base of her shredded thighs like twin bulls roaring with power at either side of Superman's body, her waist rose like a Greek sculpture, entrenched with muscle and dwarfed by the rest of her body, by the trembling lats framing her like a broad shield big enough to cover a tank. As she breathed, her abs flexed and relaxed, looking harder and meaner and uglier every time, each individual abdominal now the size of his own head. Her pecs had so gorged themselves that they were each thicker than her own waist, huge sheaths of muscle looking like rocky strata jutting from the Earth, and atop them, the biggest, smoothest, most perfect breasts he'd ever laid eyes upon. He wept at the sight of them, if only because he thought he didn't have the strength left to reach up and fondle them where they bounced over his body, that is if he could even hope to knead those two wrecking balls striated like they were made of pure muscle. She had devoured so much of his strength and mass that her enlarged glutes touched the bottom of the muscles hanging in heaps of quivering flesh from her back like some alien tortoise shell. He could hear her moaning, kissing and licking her shoulders and the tops of her own pecs that were beginning to crowd over her face. She leaned forward and her fists came down on either side of his head, giving him a blinding front row seat to her face being swallowed up by her traps and shoulders and pecs, a face that seemed to unfold past the blossom of youth, the ideal narcissistic beauty, an unreachable standard, a mask of flaxen velvet, her skin like spun starlight, her eyes like celestial pearls, her eyelashes like the wings of night, her lips like solar flares, the saliva that dripped from her hungry mouth like incandescent ambrosia... she was unimaginably beautiful. No human could have resisted her. Few mortals could have even survived the presence of such beauty, like looking into the heart of the sun. Along her regal brow, the helm of war had evolved into the shape of an icy, horned diadem of platinum patterns repeating down through microscopic infinity, bejeweled with a constellation of gemstones that shone like the Olympian pantheon themselves, gods she had already far outpaced. Such a face, the freshness of youth, the wisdom of deities, the beauty of a queen, mounted on top of a garish, sickening, disgusting, distended war machine of muscle swollen past any semblance of normalcy, every muscle so vastly overripe that entirely new proportions came into existence on her frame. "Look what I am becoming, Kal," her voice crashed into his senses like a tidal wave. Superman couldn't hear Lois weeping in the background anymore. He couldn't even think of Lois, a waif compared to the sexual power personified in front of him, filling not just all of his vision, but all of his thoughts. Shield your vision. Do not look at her. Superman could hardly hear the new voice, either, even though it rang through his brain, not his ears. He felt himself tearing away from beneath her. He saw a green flash of light then heard the noise of light particles shattering. "Lantern!" J'onn J'onnz said as he flew up into the sky away from the Goddess. "...No... Take me... back..." Superman wheezed, "Back... to her..." Superman! the Martian Manhunter's telepathic cry shook him from his reverie, Do not forget our situation! A superpowered kryptonian is on the loose in YOUR city wielding the power of one of the most dangerous of the Greek gods! She just disposed of Hal Jordan with a flick of her wrist and I cannot reach her telepathically! Power Girl has merged with Ares! I cannot take you back! "Then... take me to the Fortress..." Superman clutched at J'onn's wrist. "Fast..." They rocketed through the air, Superman murmuring obscenities and perversions, his brain still reeling from the sight of what his cousin had turned into, the memory of all her muscle burned into his frontal lobe. The Manhunter said nothing, pouring on the speed, hoping that his tricks of invisibility would aid their escape. They were nearly over the arctic now, snowy plains beneath them, the Fortress of Solitude in sight when a beam of opalescent light carved the air and set the Manhunter ablaze. He hardly had time to scream as the white flames enveloped him. He dropped Superman and fell unconscious into a nearby mountainside. Superman opened his eyes and angled his body, clumsily gliding in his exhaustion as he fell, plummeting through the roof of the Fortress. Crystal shards splintered and cracked around him as he reached the floor. He felt like a bag of broken bones. With all the strength he could muster, he reached for a nearby console, fingers trembling over the controls. The Fortress reacted, sifting through his encyclopedic collection of artifacts from across the universe until the right one was selected and brought to him. A robotic arm craned down toward him, its pincers holding a tiny purple capsule with a single word writ in kryptonian: DOOMSDAY. Superman thought of Lois, and Jimmy, and Ma and Pa, and Lana, and Perry, and the old woman crossing the street, and the flower salesman, and the barista, and the millions of other faces of Metropolis and Smallville and across the world. The Doomsday mutagen was the last resort of last resorts, but as the entire front of the Fortress caved in, he knew what he had to do and he prayed that the surviving members of the Justice League would be able to stop him after he put his own cousin down. "There's no use hiding, Kal!" Crystals shrieked and ground into powder as Power Girl came through the wall, swinging the Fortress's giant golden key like the arm of a crane. "Goodbye, Kara Zor-L, and forgive me," Superman closed his eyes and snapped the capsule between two fingers. He could hear the hissing, monstrous DNA helix sizzling through the icy air like a dragon, and he braced himself to transform into an unstoppable killing machine, but then it stopped before it reached him. His eyes shot open, horror mixed with delight: horror at the thought of her ingesting the mutagen, delight at the anticipation of how it would even further push her limits. He screamed in protest and couldn't be heard. Power Girl had opened her mouth, inhaling. A hurricane swept to life inside the Fortress, glass and ice, crystal and machines breaking off and tumbling down her hungry gullet. She swallowed the Doomsday mutagen, shut her mouth, and laughed through her teeth. Her laugh grew darker, louder, more threatening, even as her body began to grow again, her skin turning paler, grayer, almost silver, impossible diamond-like spikes starting to protrude from her knees, elbows, toes, fingers, back, and knuckles. She continued to laugh as the Doomsday mutagen melded with the magic of the god of War and her kryptonian heritage inside her growing body, her muscles doubling in width, her head raising higher as she swelled taller, new veins paving paths through her muscles to feed her insane growth. So much power she choked on it and seized up wide-eyed through a breathless orgasm, juices blasting from her vagina, gorgeous face pierced with a look of absolute euphoria. Still her body grew. Still her kryptonian DNA flooded with the Doomsday mutagen, sealed in place and refined by the magic coruscating through her branching veins. There was a sound like a super nova. Fire and light erupted from her swelling form, her muscles so monstrous and enormous she looked like a round planet of boiling, steely flesh. She reached out and flexed biceps that crashed into the ceiling above like rising towers, triceps bulging against her surging thighs, legs grown so thick that her stance had turned into a squat. Through the roaring crescendo her transformation, Power Girl's voice resounded and shook the North. "The world will NEVER forgive you, Superman. They will hate you for crowning ME as their new empress!" (end of part 4) (access the full story and the full library at )

Hello! I wanted to create a story that started where a lot of others leave off. Hope you enjoy. ============================================== "Keep your voices down. We're here. Intelligence doesn't know where this island came from or if there are titans here. Stay on your guard." Captain Levi Ackermann was the first off their vessel, alighting on the ruddy shore and eyeing their surroundings with intense suspicion. After him came Sasha Braus, smacking her lips as she nervously downed a hunk of biscuit. "I said shut up." Captain Levi cast her a cold glance and she popped the rest of the bread in her mouth. "Mmhm yeshir," she mumbled. The next off the boat was Eren Jaeger, bewildered eyes frowning at the uncanny landscape, and beside him was Armin Arlelt, the smartest of the group. Finally, Mikasa Ackermann followed up the rear, hands on her twin blades, ready for everything. Her body was a rope pulled taut. They were older now, these veteran members of the Scouting Regiment. A lot of time had passed since the Colossal Titan had first kicked in the wall but through many adventures, they'd stuck together. Together, they were a well-oiled machine. They'd killed many titans before, seemingly an unstoppable force. Of course they'd be chosen to investigate the mysterious island. "What kind of place is this?" Eren muttered. They took in the rounded island rising out of the murky, misty sea. It was hard to identify anything in the overcast gray of the hour. They couldn't make out where the shore bended on either side, but they had been told the island was estimated at a few kilometers long. Oddly, it's length was about the same as its width. Approximately, at least. "There are no trees," Armin whispered. "I can't see anything." "I hate it," Eren replied, "We could be ambushed. There's hiding places everywhere." "And look at this." Mikasa stepped in front of the group and swiped her foot across the ground. A light layer of sand and dirt and dust parted, baring a compacted earth the likes of which none of them had seen before. It looked perfectly solid and not at all porous, like some kind of solid golden-brown marble. A tight set of parallel grooves ran through the ground toward the interior of the island. "It's hard." Mikasa stamped her foot and got nothing but an ache in her bones. "Like metal." "Whoa! Very hard!" Sasha bent at the waist and poked at the ground, unable to even make the smallest dent in the banded, stone-like layer. The Captain reminded them: "It doesn't matter what it is. You have a job to do, I suggest you do it. We'll split into two camps." He pointed at each of them. "Mikasa. Eren. You take the shoreline south. Sasha, Armin, and myself will follow it north. We'll rendezvous on the other side of the island. Do not explore the interior of the island unless absolutely necessary. There could be lesser titans hiding in caves. Take turns keeping watch." His green cape waved as he turned and began his march up the shore. Sasha and Armin had no choice but to follow. Armin glanced back and waved at Eren. When Eren turned around, his adoptive sister was already headed down the shore. "You coming?" Mikasa said to Eren when he caught up with her. "Like you'd just leave me behind," he retorted. "...What do you think that smell is?" "I don't know. It's not unpleasant, but it is unusual." Eren looked behind them, the boat was already almost gone in the mist where they'd left it. If it even was a mist. It felt thicker than a mist or ocean spray, than even a regular fog, and it smelled sweet with just a hint of sourness to it. Not so much that something had gone stale but that something had remained here for a long time. Eren inhaled deeply and let out a long, slow breath. "What, you like it?" Mikasa looked at him. "I don't know," Eren responded, "It kind of makes me..." "...hungry," Sasha complained under her breath, "sooo hungry. Why am I so hungry?" Besides for her bellyaching, she and Armin and Levi marched on in relative silence, keeping up a good pace. The Captain had reminded them that there was a lot of ground to cover. Armin kept glancing back over his shoulder. Eren and Mikasa were long gone. Nothing but that oppressing fog. "What is it, Armin?" Levi said. "Nothing, Captain." A pregnant pause. "Ok it's just, I'm a little confused about what I'm supposed to be doing right now. If Intelligence needed somebody to go for a hike, then any able-bodied scout would do. I was told to secure specimens of local flora and fauna for study." "And?" "And look around. We haven't sighted a single tree. That in itself isn't wholly remarkable," Armin said, "but then, I haven't seen a single fern or blade of grass, either. There's no vegetation anywhere, just this layer of sand and dust over everything, and whatever that is underneath." "There's no fauna, either," Levi agreed. "Exactly. No vegetation means nothing to eat. There are no mammals or reptiles here. I'm willing to bet even the water around here has no fish. Have you seen a single bird, any seagulls at all since we landed? I haven't." Armin pressed his lips together as a huge dark cliff jutted out ahead into their path. It was a gigantic imposing shadow, not unlike a titan itself, buried at a bizarre angle in the ground, covered in deep cuts and rifts--where wind and rain eroded the surface? Armin wondered. He went on, "There's nothing here. Not a single mouse or bird making their nest, not a single leaf or vine... It's like nothing can live on this island, like..." he shuddered, clutching his cloak tight around his chest, "...like the whole place is dead." "Heeeeeeey!" Sasha's voice rang loudly through the air, even though she wasn't that far away, "I got your vine right here!" Levi rushed to her side and began reprimanding her about her volume, until he stopped short. Armin rushed up puffing behind him. None of them spoke a word after that. There, at the base of the gigantic cliff, grew some kind of vine, or something that oddly resembled a vine. It pierced out of the sandy earth, bending at cruel, excruciating angles as it crawled up the surface of the precipice. It hugged the stone, it seemed almost fused to it. The "vine" threw its tendrils or branches out in a jagged, random nonsense-pattern like the broken legs of a centipede. A very, very big centipede. At its widest point, it was wider around than the three of them standing together. They could walk side by side inside of it, if they could get inside. "What is it...?" Levi hissed, pressed his hand against the organic thing splayed out on stone before him. It wasn't soft but it wasn't as hard as the ground, either. Then he said decisively: "It's alive." "What?!" Armin and Sasha both gasped. "See for yourself," Levi answered. He retracted his hand and looked at it. It wasn't dirty or slimy. Sasha touched it next, then Armin, hesitantly. They could both feel it. Under the membranous surface of their "vine", it felt like there was something rushing, flowing. "Is it water?" Sasha mused. Armin thought of something much worse. "This island is cursed..." Then they felt it. The ground beneath them began to shift, almost like it was made of separate plates, like they were giants standing over the plates that moved the continents. A sound like a thunderstorm roared louder and louder underground, followed by a noise like steel grinding against steel, followed by a dull groaning noise that seemed to come from everywhere. The cliff above them shifted to the rocky, mountainous chorus. "Look out!" Levi led them down the slope and up the shoreline, racing behind them to ensure they kept up their speed. They stopped a short ways up ahead where a space cleared. Behind them, the cliff wobbled and seemed to stick out further over the ocean, but it didn't fall. Its strange movement carried along by the sudden earthquake, which had since diminished, seemed to cut through the intense fog. Armin peered up to the top of the cliff where it met another cliff and still another, and upward and upward until the side of the mountain disappeared in the clouds. Armin took in the vista, the sharp valleys cut deep into the rock, like a titan had carved them with massive hands. He scowled at the prospect of an island crawling with titans bearing huge claws and teeth that could tear open whole mountainsides. Sasha's stomach growled painfully. She doubled over and sunk to her knees, wrapping her arms around her waist. "Ugh... why am I getting so..." "...hot?" Eren took off his green cape and brown jacket. "Aren't you getting hot?" "Yes." Mikasa replied. "Just don't go in the water." She was standing at the water's edge, still as a statue, peering down into water that turned deep blue and then black almost immediately. There were almost no waves, no sandbank or anything. Somebody could get pushed under the island by an undertow, into an underwater fissure. Mikasa winced at the morbid thought. "I didn't plan on it," Eren said, then: "Look, there it is again!" He and Mikasa turned their faces inland. A hissing geyser of pent up pressure erupted into a cloud of steam from a deep rent in the earth. They didn't have to say it; the blast put them both in mind of titans. "They must be down there," Eren muttered, feeling his blood boil at the thought of them. "There must be some kind of underground lair." "Or..." Mikasa left the water and came up beside him, "it could be volcanic." Her brother sniffed the air. "I don't smell sulfur. But that odor is stronger now." "You felt that tremor earlier?" Mikasa insisted. "If the island is violently active, that could explain the lack of any life. This stuff might be volcanic ash for all we know." She kicked the dirt again. It went up around her feet in a puff of fine particles. Almost in response, another blast of hot steam issued from the ground to the sound of rocks splitting in two. A deep gurgling noise followed, like a huge aquifer shifting just under the earth. "I hate this place. Let's go." Mikasa turned and started walking again. Eren followed and they went on for a ways. Ahead of them in the distance, barely discernible, a long, rounded ridge stuck out from the main island, climbing to a huge beveled, tapered, narrow peak before diving again into the water. It had no shore, its sides marked with dense grooves and a huge garish rent, again pointing back to the island, even as the cliffs themselves went straight down into the water. "What could cause a rock formation like that?" Eren asked as they kept stride together. "If we knew, it might not be the mysterious island we were sent out to investigate." "Nothing in nature, I'd bet." "I guess so." "Do you think the titans realistically have anything to do with this place?" Eren grunted as he stepped up a huge plate of the same golden-brown stone bulging from the ground. "Realistically? What doesn't have to do with the titans," Mikasa intoned. "All our lives have been about them. That's why we're here." "Yeah but how long have we been doing this? You and I haven't come across anything like this place. Usually titans are on land, not stuck out here on some damned weird island. And if they are here, there's not much we could do about it. We're out in the open." Mikasa knew he was right. She scanned the horizon of the island: besides for the ridge going out over the ocean, there was no high point nearby. They had passed a few outcropping an hour or so ago, each of them like massive buttes rising almost straight out of the ground, peculiar in how they seemed organized, nearly regimental in their placement. She sighed. "There's still so much we don't really know about the titans. It's not unreasonable that we could discover a new strain of them here. If that happens... we'll need you to assume your form." "I know," Eren said, and then as he clambered over another ledge, he gasped. "Wow, come look at this!" Mikasa began climbing the natural steps, like huge wrinkles of solid steel, but then her brother yelled. "Lookout!" She leaped away just in time as a globulous white substance came flowing over the upper ledge like a flood. Standing aside, she watched it pass, holding her nose. It stank. It quickly slid over the surface of dirt like a massive bead of water, leaving a slick trail behind it, and then when it hit the water. It hissed, letting out its heat in sharp gasps of steamy agony. In moments, it was gone, leaving nothing but a thin, glistening slime trail. "Faster than a lava flow, and not quite as hot, I'd guess, if the geography books are at all accurate," Eren was saying. Mikasa came up behind him, mounting the upper ledge, glancing back at the black water, "And it didn't cool into rock. It sort of just melted into the sea." "And there's more where that came from." Mikasa turned and saw what Eren had initially called her up here for. She held her nose again. Before them, half concealed in the thick fog and billowing gouts of steam was a huge, white, viscous lake of some kind. Instead of a shore, the liquid bowled and beveled at its edges, again like a bead or droplet of water. It trembled like a pool of fat with every slight tremor and geyser nearby. "What the hell is that?" Mikasa finally managed. Eren took in a sharp breath through is nose. "I have no idea. As you were coming up, the ground shifted and a part of it dumped over the edge like a waterfall." "What are you doing?" Mikasa frowned at him. "Huh?" "...The smell!" "I don't mind it." He sniffed again. She frowned even more. "I think it's disgusting. We need to get moving and make some progress before--" The earth rippled under their feet. The rocks themselves seemed to groan aloud. The ledge under them were on bucked, throwing them into the air. Nothing they couldn't normally handle, except with the local topography, there wasn't much their harnesses could do for them. Still, they managed to jet through the air and utilize their wires in such a way to land somewhat safely--Eren fell on his shoulder and Mikasa on her hip. Neither of them appreciated just how hard the ground was, and it was still moving. The earthquake quickly dialed up its intensity. Underground there was a horrible noise like huge grinding molars. The crash of it filled their ears. The ground bucked again and again. It seemed to crack open as vines like giant writhing snakes erupted from blistering fissures, writhing over the landscape. They had to use their wires to remain safely attached to the floor. All around them, as the earth heaved, massive drops of the white liquid spattered. Mikasa's disgust was lost in the noise of the earthquake. She prayed none of it would fall on her. She should've prayed for Eren. Mikasa looked up in time to see a glob the size of a redwood fall out of the sky and cover her brother. Her first thought was that he'd be smothered, or drowned. She screamed his name but couldn't be heard. The glob hit the floor and splashed outward, leaving Eren absolutely drenched in the stuff. He looked horrified, revolted, until his expression suddenly changed. She saw his breathing quicken, grow heavier. His hair stood on end. His skin pricked with gooseflesh. His face went pale as his eyes filled with a wild lust. He crinkled his nose, taking in the scent that bombarded his senses. Mikasa wanted to puke but Eren gazed down at his body and the slime around him, looking as if he wanted to lick it up. He raised his hand and looked at the threads of sticky white ooze between his fingers. He moved it closer to his face! "Eren, no!" Mikasa deactivated her harness and ran toward him as the earthquake subsided. "Stop it! What are you doing!" He bared his teeth, turned his hand to bite down on his own flesh. "Get a hold of yourself! Stop! You're going to..." "...head inland. We have to! There it is again!" Armin put a hand over his own mouth and the three of them listened. The sound hit their ears, full of emotion, poignant, lonesome, longing, passionate. It was vaguely human. Levi's eyes seemed to follow the echoes reverberating off of the golden-brown cliffs. "It could be a titan," he said, once the sound died down. "It could be someone crying for help," Sasha admitted. Levi nodded. "You're right." He pointed up the steep, convex cliffside almost directly above them. The had walked for hours and what they thought had been an isolated cliff had turned out to be one of the jagged foothills of an immense mountain. "We go straight up the side of the mountain, head to the peak, and make a survey of the surroundings if we can. Along the way, we'll take turns pausing to scout for any sign of titans..." and he added: "or anybody needing our help. Understood?" They followed him up through the air, their harnesses whining as their bodies flipped elegantly. Ascending the mountain proved somewhat difficult: their wires couldn't pierce the extremely hard stone, so they had to pick their way a little more slowly, keen eyes sharpened for sharp grooves and rents. Still higher and higher they went until they reached the low-hanging clouds. The smell of the fog was sharper up here. Where is the damned peak? Levi's mind wandered, but just then the peak seemed to flatten out. Alongside it, chasms separated similar peaks just like it, all of them scarred by immense rents that pointed toward the island's interior. The top presented itself, a bare space of solid rock without the sand and dust of the beach far below them. Levi set down first and then Armin and Sasha behind him. They could hardly make out anything above them but a swirl of thick gray clouds. The peak itself seemed more like a plateau or mesa. Does it still go higher? Levi thought. An obelisk presented itself as a wind passed through the haze, clearing it just enough to reveal the object. It was as wide around as the turret of a castle. "What is that?" Armin asked aloud, "Some kind of natural formation? A geyser, maybe?" "Hmmm too big to be an anthill," Sasha stated, if only to mask the sound of her stomach growling. The vines crawled toward its base, or away from it, where golden-brown faded into dark brown, then red, then pink up toward the tip of the formation. "Doesn't matter," the Captain said, "Do you hear anything?" They strained their ears. The wind howled sharply against the stones in that desolate place, but behind it, they heard the voice again. It started in low and then built to a crescendo, seeming to cause the mesa under their feet to shiver. The climax of the voice cut off decisively, ending in what sounded like a whimper. "Somebody's there! They're in trouble!" Armin shouted. "Down there in that valley!" He ran and jumped into thin air, activating his harness to descend across the far end of the mesa. "Armin! Wait!" Levi yelled in pursuit, and he and Sasha descended after him. Hundreds and hundreds of meters of corrugated stone fell upward behind them. As it whipped past in immeasurable striated heaps, its constant quaking and quivering shifts disoriented them. What they thought was a beach awaiting them below by the water was just more vine-encrusted rock. They breathlessly lighted on the ground. There were more vines here than ever, bigger than ever, seeming to issue from a colossal cave, the only cave they'd seen on the entire trip. The voice moaned out of the dark pit, undeniably human. To Sasha's ears, it sounded hungry. "There could be titans. Stay close and be ready." Levi led the way, climbing the grotesque bulges of golden-brown stone. As they neared the entrance of the cave, a black orifice nearly serrated with tears and splits in the stone, the entrance pulsated. The voice moaned, louder than ever. It was a primal, guttural, wild call that seemed to issue up from the very earth itself, but with the unmistakable traits of a feminine voice... "Eren... Eren... Don't..." her voice called to him through the swampy trance. He answered. "Mikasa...? W-what happened?" any sign of anger or rage was gone from his tone, as was the hypnotic state the glob had left him in. His eyes were full of a sorrowful yearning, nearly stinging with tears. "You almost turned," Mikasa said, her tone full of concern. Eren put his hand down. "I won't. I'm fine... I promise you..." "Good. We have to keep moving. Find some higher ground before another quake like that hits. We're lucky we didn't fall into the water." "Yeah... you're right." He wanted to wash himself, the smell was still intoxicating, but she was right. They couldn't risk going into the sea. "Let's see what happened to that lake," Mikasa was climbing the ledges again, Eren just behind her. "Maybe there will be a path forward. Maybe that giant pool or whatever it was is gone." As they reached the top, the ground began to tremble again, pulling apart at the most bizarre of angles, the grooves in the earth flexing and unflexing. Their fears soon turned to terror. Where the "lake" used to be, a barren plain of undulating rock sunk down toward a canyon at their right. The ridge they'd spotted earlier formed one side of the canyon, but in the middle of it, at its head, and horrifyingly nearby, a grotesque chasm gushed forth torrents of thick white liquid, which splattered in globs and threads upon the far slopes of the ridge and poured down into the black water below where it boiled and fizzled as it mixed with the sea. Eren was running towards it. Mikasa screamed after him. He dashed like a madman, his sister falling behind, until he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. They were at the base of the chasm at the edge of the canyon. They could both hear the violent noises of spurt after spurt of ooze issuing from the gaping slash in the rock, easily big enough to fit a smaller titan. Hot steam and vapor smoked out of the chasm, which suddenly trembled and contracted, two muscular lips enclosing, raising, covered in layers of slime, unfolding like a massive city-sized flower of pink, greasy, fibrous petals. "Like the siren calling sailors to their deaths..." Sasha broke the silence of the cave and they all shuddered except for the Captain. He marched on under the crushing weight of duty, through the terror that the cave might just crush them. They had gone on a ways and it was pitch black and full of moisture, the only light a small lantern Levi had been wise enough to bring with him. They had to get down almost on their hands knees at one point, the oppressive ceiling and encroaching walls seeming to bulge down at them. The woman's voice called them onward. What could any human being experience to make such an awful cry? As the voice grew clearer, the cave suddenly opened up just a little and Levi at the front of the group froze. Sasha and Armin came up behind, peeking over his shoulders. They froze, too. "NO DON'T LEAVE ME BE I NEED IT I WANT IT IT'S MINE MINE NO I NEED MORE MORE MORE I CAN'T HAVE ENOUGH NEVER ENOUGH I NEED MORE YES YES I NEED MORE YES MORE--" the woman's voice gushed, ceaselessly. Her face toward them, her head was wedged into the rock, which bunched up with coiling vines... no, veins... around her chin. A single, long, brown, frayed and braided ponytail rolled out along the floor. Not floor. Her body. Her head hung upside-down on the wall, saliva coating her beautiful feminine mouth and face, her bared, gnashing teeth. Her eyes were wide with the tiniest pupils, insane with greed and pleasure and power as she ranted and screamed out a tremendous moan that forced them to cover their ears. That's when the worst possible suspicion came crashing down with the weight of reality. Levi stammered: "It's not an island... It's a titan!" Mikasa put her hand over her mouth, sucked in her breath and refused to breathe, even though her heart raced. Eren was hyperventilating, salivating uncontrollably. He turned around and looked at her, soaked with sweat and spit, a stark image on that immense landscape of pure, raw, impossibly shredded, inhuman muscle. His eyes were full of desire, hypnotized by powerful pheromones and scents and odors. A lust unlike anything he'd ever felt before seized up his whole body. A throbbing shape rose behind him out of the top of the guttering chasm: red hot and pink and glistening, a clitoris bigger than any tower. (end of part 1) (read more at patreon.com/pumpculture)