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  1. Synopsis: "Some time in the far future, a government dissenter and anti-war activist is drafted to become a new, gamma-powered super soldier." A little experimental piece. There’s a brief bit on mental changes/mental conditioning involving American imagery. I apologize if it’s much. Disclaimer: The copyrights to the Incredible Hulk and any related characters or depictions are owned by Marvel. This story is not intended to infringe on such copyright. ---------------------------------------------------------------- The ride on the prisoners’ transport vehicle was silent, other than the slight bumps on the road rocking it every so often. Other than that unsightly, masked, heavily armored person who could only be assumed to be a soldier, Nick was the only person sitting in the back. He’d just woken up after being knocked out for a few hours, finding himself handcuffed from the back, chained to the bar behind him. It was dark inside, and Nick’s bluish-gray eyes strained to see anything through the small window across from him. Other than the fact it was sunny outside, he couldn’t see anything else. But that was probably because the window was too small for him to get a good look at anything. Instead, he brought his eyes toward the only other person he could see: the soldier. Nick coughed, his throat and mouth feeling dry. He licked his lips to try to feel some moisture, but he felt exhausted. As his hacking stopped, he called out to the soldier in a raspy voice. “Where are you taking me?” “Quiet.” The soldier’s voice was deep. A headache slowed Nick’s response, but it eventually came after a gulp. “I deserve to know where we’re going,” he said. His voice grew stronger. “You’re a government dissenter. A disgrace,” the soldier said, standing up. He approached Nick, and got close to his face. “You’re supposedly anti-war, but you disrupted the country’s law and order with your so-called ‘activism.’ You don’t deserve shit, and you deserve the draft.” Then it came back to Nick. After a day of him strategizing with local activists to put pressure on the increasingly corrupt government, the army raided his apartment and took him. He stared into where he guessed the soldier’s eyes would be. “You know this draft’s illegal,” he said. No response. “So where are you taking me? Bootcamp?” The soldier scoffed. “Better than that.” Nick’s face dropped. That’s not good news, he thought. The vehicle slowed down and he realized something big was about to happen to him. Did that soldier mean… No, that project was scrapped. It was never greenlit. But with the military in charge, they could… The soldier undid the chain attaching Nick to the vehicle, and pulled him up. Nick winced at the man’s tight grasp of his arm but had no time to react as the truck’s door opened, blinding him, then pushing him out. He had little time to find his footing or to allow his eyes to adjust as the soldier pushed him towards the entrance of a large mysterious facility, the only label on it being “Military Operations” on a small plaque above the large door. It didn’t take long before he found himself approaching what seemed like a holding cell. Another soldier was stationed at the door with what seemed to be a uniform in hand. That soldier unlocked the cell, grabbed ahold of Nick’s arm — ignoring his wincing and clear reaction of pain — then freeing him from his handcuffs and pushing him in. Nick turned around and watched the two soldiers talk briefly, presumably about him, before they parted. He stepped back as the soldier with the clothes stepped in. He spoke with a deep voice, not unlike the other. “Strip to your underwear, keep your socks, and toss your current clothes to me and put these on,” he commanded. He threw the clothes he had to the floor in Nick’s direction before pressing on. “Now!” Understanding the situation very well, Nick did not hesitate to start taking off his clothing. His attitude from earlier had completely gone away, replaced by a sense of anxiety and urgency. He slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it to the soldier, just as he was told; the same was done for his pants, shoes, and socks. Nick’s feelings of humiliation and invasion of privacy needed to be quickly discarded, so he slipped on the provided khaki pants (just a size too big), and tried to fit through the plain white shirt he was given. After a moment of tugging it over his head, he gave up and told the soldier, “This doesn’t fit.” His eyes locked with the soldier’s before darting away. The soldier sighed. “Fine,” he said, sounding irritated. He walked over and grabbed the shirt out of Nick’s hand. “I guess you’ll go without a shirt.” He collected Nick’s old clothing and started heading out. “Wait!” Nick called out as the door began to close. “What’s gonna happen to me? I haven’t gone through due process!” “When the doctor is ready for you, I’ll get you.” Nick paled. “The doctor?” The soldier walked away. Despite the lack of response, his silence answered Nick’s question and his fear. When Nick was organizing, he and other lead protestors had heard about a top secret project meant to enhance soldiers. It was called Project GAMMA, he was told. A science experiment to create the American super soldier. He never got all the details, since it was supposedly never approved, but his current circumstances could only be explained by that. Why else would there be a scientist involved in what seems like a testing facility? Yet as Nick made his way to the dirty mirror in the cell and stared at himself — his fairly slim, pale body and his 5’9” stature — he couldn’t understand why he of all people would be picked for this. At 19, he was different from any of his involved peers. He was far from a soldier and could never live in their mindset. He was independent, and not quite patriotic. The most athletic he got was running, so he wouldn’t stand a chance against the hulking soldiers around him. His heart was racing. What were they about to do to him? The answer of that question would come soon enough, as the soldier had already come back. He opened the door. “Get out,” he demanded. Nick looked at the soldier and walked to the door and the soldier immediately grabbed ahold of his arm. He could try to make a break for it, he thought, but with a place as large as this facility being in the middle of nowhere, attempting would surely be a death sentence. He allowed himself to be tugged along to a door labeled “TESTING LAB 1-H” as he grimly walked down the fluorescent-lit hallways. A new man, short, aged, with a sickly, greenish tint to his skin was standing inside, patiently waiting for who was inevitably to become his test subject. He stood next to a large machine. It was reminiscent of an external beam radiation machine but modified: the treatment table was fixed at an angle so that the subject would be more upright, the radiation laser seemed to cover a larger area, and a small screen was attached to it. The scientist grinned when he saw Nick’s look of fear at the machine. “Strap him to the table, Sarge.” Within a few moments, Nick was forcibly strapped and bound to the table around his waist, his wrists, and his ankles. He tried to get a look at the ID card hanging from the scientist’s lab coat: Dr. Samuel Sterns. “Thank you,” Dr. Sterns said. “You can leave us.” And so the soldier did, leaving Nick and the malicious man in the room. Nick’s heart was beating out of his chest, feeling fear as Dr. Sterns began to circle Nick, as if to inspect him, with a mischievous grin on his face. “Who… who the hell are you?” Nick asked, his voice shaking. “My name is Dr. Samuel Sterns. Yours is Nicklas Radler, but you prefer to just go by Nick, I heard,” he started, locking his eyes with Nick’s. “I am the lead scientist of this small project.” “Is this… Project GAMMA?” Dr. Sterns stopped pacing around Nick. He scoffed as he looked Nick up and down. “So you’ve been told?” “No. I’ve heard about it… I thought this project was dead.” “It was. It really was.” Dr. Sterns stepped forward before he continued, prompting Nick to take a sharp breath as his heart began to race even more. “That was until your little band of kids began picking up traction. People stopped enlisting, and the draft became more aggressive. What we didn’t anticipate was how you guys sowed so much resistance against the government. So, I made my case to the men in charge and got my way. You were… picked up because you fit what we needed at the moment, in comparison to your anarchist teammates.” Nick was silent, and a feeling of dread came upon him. Was everyone else in danger? “What are you going to do to me?” The grin on the scientist’s face grew wider and more wicked. “Project GAMMA is meant to make the world’s first gamma-powered super soldier, hence the name. A combination of nanites, serum, and radiation to turn the mind and body of any man into one of a true American patriot, ready to fight for his country. A total transformation — one that you’ll be the first to enjoy.” Mind and body? Radiation? “Gamma radiation kills,” Nick said frantically. Maybe he could bargain his way out of here. “Not at certain frequencies for short bursts of time,” Dr. Sterns retorted. “I could never fight for this country, doc. I’ve never had a passion for this country, and I never will. I don’t plan on contributing to war.” + “Ah, that’s what you think.” Dr. Sterns stepped away and pressed a button. On the side of the machine came a few vials and a few syringes. He took one vial, filled with a greenish liquid, and another, filled with a clear thick liquid, along with one of the syringes. “You see the nanites we’re using today are special,” he explained. He loaded the syringe with the clear liquid. “These change your psychology to be a little more… suggestible. More flexible and eager to accept what is presented. A bit of programming through audio and visuals, a boost of testosterone, and your mindset will be changed. You’ll come out a new man.” “Fuck you,” Nick said quietly. Dr. Sterns grabbed Nick’s neck and slowly positioned it before he injected the liquid (which Nick now safely assumed to be the nanite fluid) into his neck, straight into his spine. As soon as Dr. Sterns removed the needle, Nick started to feel a slight haze settle on his mind. It was like locks on his mind slowly began to unravel and he felt vulnerable. It stung as he felt a numbing pain from his neck spread to the rest of his spine and seemingly his brain. He fought hard to fight it, now knowing what was about to happen. “No, no…” he muttered. “The serum will do to your body what the nanites will do to your mind. Open your body to stimulation and transformation,” Dr. Sterns said. “Inspired by the work of an ‘old colleague,’ you shouldn’t have to worry too much. At least you won’t be the scrawny stick you are now.” Still reeling from the slight pain of the nanites, Nick looked back at Sterns in horror as he saw the scientist grab his left arm. “Get off me!” He yelled, desperate to leave. He thrashed his arm around, trying to make it hard for Sterns to find a vein to inject. “No! Please, doc, don’t put that shit inside me!” His efforts were futile as Sterns pulled another strap around his arm to keep bound to the table as he injected. The serum burned as it entered Nick’s system, prompting him to scream. He felt defeated, unlike the proud and defiant protester he was when he got taken. The burning quickly subsided, however, as the last of it left the syringe and the syringe left his body. “You’re a loud one,” Sterns said. “I can see why you were put on the front lines of those protests. You’ll need that energy on the battlefield.” He undid the extra strap around his arm and left the room. He appeared once again behind a window, an observational control room that looked into the room Nick was strapped in. Dr. Sterns seemed to flick a couple switches before the radiation machine whirred to life. The machine buzzed as the beam transport lowered around and lit up, a heated greenish light shining against Nick. The screen came down with it, shoved into Nick’s face, turning on to an image of the American flag. “Are you ready, Nick?” Dr. Sterns’ voice came through speakers into the room. “Fuck you!” “So we shall begin.” Click. The beam transport unleashed gamma rays against Nick’s body as he shut his eyes. The radiation beam oscillated around him. The voices of men that weren’t there filled his ears. Dr. Sterns of course noticed Nick’s shut eyes and sought to rectify it. “Open your eyes, Nick,” he said through the speakers. “Why should I?” “You need to open your eyes.” The commanding sound of Sterns’ voice compelled something inside him to open his eyes, to become exposed to the propaganda on the screen. The nanites were already doing their job. “No…” Nick felt his body heat up as he received the radiation and his body began to mutate. His eyes were wide open as words and imagery came onto the screen. YOU ARE A PATRIOT. YOU ARE AMERICAN. Nick recoiled at the sound of deep-voiced men repeating the phrases being blasted in his ears. He tried his best to think about anything else other than the words on the screen, but with his eyes peeled he couldn’t resist the messaging. An American flag flashed onto the screen. “I’m… not a patriot,” he said to himself. That much was true for the moment, but his mind was quickly melding to what was being introduced. He foolishly tried to imagine himself as a dumb patriot, but realized it felt more real than he expected. Without any warning, he suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through his body before it subsided. The changes were beginning, and he was unable to stop it. AMERICA FIRST. SERVE YOUR COUNTRY. His eyes flashed green for a moment as the physical changes made themselves known. Not only were they more apparent, Nick could feel them take place from the inside out. He had little room to glance down as all the muscles in his body began to burn, as if he had just gone through some strenuous workout. His toes curled and his hands rolled into fists as the sensation of growth became intense. His heart was beating heavily as his body began to stretch, adding extra inches to his height. “God… what the fuck…” Nick shut his eyes for a moment before feeling compelled to open them once again, staring directly at the words. Again, another image of the flag then of a camo uniform flashed in front of him. He felt scared when he could suddenly imagine himself wearing that very uniform before the words changed again. AMERICAN TRADITION IS GOOD. BROTHERHOOD AND CAMARADERIE. The images of fraternity bros flashed onto the screen, the same kind that he had rejected being friends with in college, before also being replaced with what seemed to be military men enjoying each others’ company. What Nick didn’t anticipate was how arousing the idea of finally accepting “American values” would suddenly be, and how arousing being a ‘bro’ would sound. As if he started to subconsciously will it, he very briefly flexed his whole body despite his position, and his muscles tightened and began to grow. Nick glanced down, saw, and felt his biceps begin to grow. They stretched outward almost beautifully but slowly, as if he was watching a timelapse of a person building muscle. The feeling of growth only added to the burning but was surprisingly pleasure-inducing. Nick couldn’t control the soft moan that left his lips as his now rock hard cock caught friction against the inside of his boxers. Quickly he felt a crisis of identity coming on. “No I’m not like them… I could never be like them,” he told himself. But as he repeated those words in his head, he became less and less confident in them. After all, a voice in the back of his head began to say, who wouldn’t want a bro to lean back on? THIS WE’LL DEFEND. SEMPER FI. Nick immediately recognized the phrases as they were screamed into his ear: the mottos of the Army and the Marines. Photos of men from each branch flashed, the voices of men speaking to him to become a recruit invading his brain. “But I’m not… them!” He tried harder to strengthen his resolve. It was undercut by a new pang of pleasure, eliciting a louder moan than before, as he saw and felt another round of growth in his body. His pecs ballooned and became more defined, and he felt his thighs and calves begin to experience the same treatment as his arms. All parts of his body began to feel heavier but stronger. Nick gasped as he felt like the air was knocked out of him for a second — his abdomen tightened as his abs became much more prominent and larger, jutting out. Droplets of sweat began to form all over his body. A sudden increase of testosterone in his system as his body reacted to its own changes. The military men on the screen suddenly became familiar. Nick’s eyes widened when he realized who they were: guys from his high school who he had cut off shortly after he found out they enlisted. BE A MAN. BE A SOLDIER. “I am… a man…” Nick’s words were slowing as his brain was processing everything thrown at it. Now images of people he knew from his high school and men from his college playing football flashed across. Expressions and screams of masculinity and aggression played on the screen. The images of traditional American masculinity inserted themselves into his sense of self, tying his ideas of being a man to that. “Stop! No!” He screamed out as he realized the thoughts popping into his head. It was no use, of course, as he began to cultivate a subtle desire to “BE A MAN” like the ones he saw on screen. A voice in his head whispered temptations, of course he should want to be a man! As much as he presently hated the changes happening to him, Nick started to love the sensations he felt all over his body. He felt confused, knowing that he absolutely shouldn’t, but his mind and body were betraying his spirit. Case in point: Nick moaned as he felt his cock get longer and larger in his boxers. He could feel pre begin to leak just a tad as it brushed past wet spots. “Fuck,” he muttered. He looked down as more and more of his muscles pushed outward. His chest and shoulders became broader and his back widened. His now eight-pack abs were cut and large, his lats flared, and his pants now fit more snugly around his waist and legs. It was clear, however, that fat wasn’t the cause for this. YOU ARE STRONG. YOU HAVE MUSCLE. At this, as if his body took a mind of its own, Nick suddenly flexed his new muscles as much as he could while strapped down. He moaned; the sensation felt so good, releasing the right hormones in his body. Veins pushed up, his vascularity being unlike anything he ever had before. In fact, his whole body was unlike anything he ever had before. Never in his life had Nick been built like this, but now he was built like the perfect soldier. And he was feeling good. On the screen in front of him, he saw shirtless athletes and bodybuilders exercising and flexing flash in front of his eyes. He was a man like them, Nick thought, he was strong as hell and he could prove it. He could enlist. But he interrupted that train of thought as he realized how much he had changed. His will, however, was being muddied by his libido. On a screen from the control room, connected to a camera pointed at Nick’s face, Dr. Sterns watched as Nick’s gray eyes became a bright green. The scientist smiled. “Perfect.” SERVE IN THE WAR. YOU LOVE AMERICA. “No, no…” As the words changed, Nick knew he needed to resist the mental changes. So he tried, but everything felt so good. He was on fire in the best way possible. And he was losing himself. Nick’s cock struggled against his boxers, wanting to free itself so desperately. He moaned and yelled in pleasure. He needed to release. He needed to be free. Suddenly he felt a new primal, savage energy spring forth from within him. The feeling of pure anger and power entered his veins, prompting Nick to feel like he unlocked a new part of the serum. In a way he did, activated by the prolonged gamma radiation. Nick’s skin began to shift to a green, just like that of the Hulk he had heard about years ago. His hair went from a light brown to a dark green. His newly-muscled body shifted into something even more powerful, as all his muscles packed on more mass. His pants began to rip as his body became much more than the fabric could handle. His growth shifted to his height as he now added another near-foot to his new human height of 6’1”. The strap around his waist burst open from the force of his new transformation. Nick ripped through the straps bounding his wrists and ankles like they were nothing, fueling a new dangerous arrogance. Dr. Sterns was unconcerned. YOU ARE A PATRIOT. Fuck patriotism, Nick thought. Nick looked down to briefly admire his body and flexed, but knew he couldn’t wait. He knew that the emerald beast he had become had the strength he needed to punch out and leave. But he was frozen, in front of the screen. There was unbridled energy, power, and strength inside him, but his mind was so occupied by his rock-hard cock. He couldn’t help but begin to rip off the tatters of his pants and boxers, and stroke. He screamed at himself in his head, he needed to stop! He needed to leave! But Nick continued to stroke. His eyes were glued to the screen. Pictures and videos of American soldiers, shirtless and in action, young patriotic men built like he was now built, all shining from the screen and attaching themselves into the deepest recesses of his brain. He was becoming. Nick started to want it. And as he continued to stroke, he moaned, distracted by his own pleasure, changing more and more… Until, at long last, the release and relief he was looking for. He yelled out powerfully as he finally came, greenish off-white semen shooting all over him and on the floor. With each powerful shot was also the release of everything he used to be. No longer could he be the scrawny, smug, seditious little activist he used to be. Not when he could be like this. And as he panted in the aftermath, shrinking down to his new human normal, with his greenness fading away, he thought only one thing as he stared at the screen. Of course he was a patriot. YOU ARE A SOLDIER. As the last words appeared on screen, and his reversion to his new normal finished, the beam transport stopped oscillating. The machine died down, the screen folded back up, and soon no sound was in the room except for Nick’s own breathing. Nick slowly stepped off the table, approaching the glass through which he could clearly see Dr. Sterns and a faint reflection of himself. There was a new subtly cocky strut in the way he walked, and he had an arrogant smirk on his face. Truly, he’d become an alpha, fit for combat. “How’d I do, doc?” Nick said, his voice just a tad bit deeper than before. He brought up an arm to flex for a moment before bringing it back down. Dr. Sterns seemed more than satisfied. “Thank you for participating in Project GAMMA, Nick. I’m happy to say it was a success,” he said through the speakers. Through the glass, he wore a smile. “You may find new clothes on the compartment on the side.” Nick looked and found a new pair of khaki pants to replace the one he had ruined, a new pair of boxers, and a plain white shirt that very clearly fit him. But after he put on his pants, he decided he didn’t need to wear the shirt. “Now I’m obligated to tell you that you have been drafted into the U.S. Army, to become a part of their first GAMMA platoon,” Dr. Sterns said on the speakers. Nick scoffed. “Finally. Some good news.”
  2. Astromuscle

    no sex Black Blood Experimentation

    Chapter 1: (AM note: as every story goes, first chapter lays a lot of groundwork for some major growth later) Medusa seems confused as she look at her stores of black blood. She looks around the room only to see a shadow slide out of the room. Black arrows slide along the walls as Medusa chases the shadow. The shadowy man flips and dives away as arrows attack off the walls, slowing his getaway attempt. a clash of a dagger helps divert arrows away from dealing any serious damage to the man. Finally however the magic takes the better of the man and the arrows whip around him, constraining and tightening around him until Medusa comes to face him. The man himself was a rather shorter 5' 4" man, wiry and lithe as only someone taller can normally be, but athletic enough to explain the aerial maneuvers he had been doing previously. Maroon brown short hair topped a rather cute face that gave the impression of being that of a young boys, but with enough lines to show the true maturity of his age of likely 30 years. Medusa began to put together how she would respond in a witty way when the man began laughing. "Well I knew this was a stupid idea but guess my luck finally ran out. Before you decide to bake me into a pie I should mention I'm not quite the spryest spring chicken" Medusa couldn't help but smile at the humour of her hopeless prisoner. "It was particularly more stupid then I think you could imagine. Do you even know what you are messing around with?" The man laughs harder. "Black blood? I've seen the damage your little son has wrecked. Colour me intrigued." Medusa seems to weigh the man up. "A power thirsty man. Can you explain to me why I should entertain this talk any longer?" "Because I think you would be interested in putting black blood through it's paces." Medusa seems to chew on this "What did you have in mind?" "You made Crona so mentally traumatized, in an effort to allow Ragnarok the ability to control him. Aren't you at least a little curious to see what happens when someone's goals align with it?" "Now listen here little man. Based on our conversation, you just want power. Let me guess here. You have always been overlooked and felt weak. You have spent your life trying to make yourself skilled, but it's not enough. You can't hunt for the academy, you can't even steal from me well, or escape." The black arrows let the man down, humour not seeing to be present on his face any longer. It all had bled into Medusa's toothy grin. "Boy, you think you are so different then Crona, you are just as hopeless as he is." With that Medusa approaches, takes the black blood from the man's pocket. An arrow comes from behind and pierces the man through the chest, suspending him in the air before Medusa. She unstoppers the black blood and pours it into the wound. "Let's experiment." The black blood seeped into the man's body immediately. With that Medusa's arrow flings him out a door and onto the ground. The man, groggy as ever got up and slowly slumped away, trying to piece together what had just happened, and what had cut both sides of his shirt but not so much as scratched his skin apparently. Stepping into his house he stumbles on, his mind a buzz until a voice comes from the corners of his mind. "let me in, and I will give you the power you crave" He moves on, stumbling into a kitchen to get a drink. He had gone to steal the black blood. "You did, and you succeeded. Let me take control, and I will make you strong." The man stops. He definitely heard something that time. "I can make you do anything. Untold strength. Give over to me" It came back to him. The theft, the attack, the blood. "You are the black blood... Aren't you...?" "I am. You are weak, do you want to be strong?" The man grabbed his water and looked across a kitchen island, as if he were talking to someone sitting there. "I will be strong." "I want to help you." "I want your help." "Give yourself over to me" The man looks down, and then once his deliberation was done he lifted his head. "I won't do that." "WHAT!" With that a black figure bursts from the man's back. Pure black and muscular with a large white 'X' over it's face. "You are small, you're weak, you're pathetic. You couldn't become anything without me, so give into it." The man grabs the creatures wide shoulders and pins it to the island. "And how pathetic would it make me to give myself away to you! I don't want you to control me, I want you to help me. I worked for it, and I will continue to work for it. So you can help me or I swear to god I will rip you out of my back, throw you in a blender, and drink you down just so I can do it again." The black blood monster laughs uproariously, catching the man off guard. "I don't know if you know. I'm already in your head, Stephen. I'm so muscular and huge right now because you want me to be, because you want to be like this." The black figure flexes his pecs one at a time. "But that also means I know you are serious when you threaten me AND I LOVE IT." With that the black monster raised itself off and flexed itself in front of Stephen. "I can make you like this. You will be so powerful, but if you want me to be in, I need something in it for me." Stephen shakes himself back to his senses from being transfixed by the face full of chest and arm muscles before him. "Oh so you don't know that part? I have something in mind." With that Stephen began walking, the monster attached to his back followed along. "Wait are you blocking me from seeing what you are doing. Are you doing some meditative bull to keep me from reading your mind." Stephen seems to grin "Just testing to see if I have ANY privacy. Plus I prefer to think of it as anticipation. Are you excited... What do I call you?" "I go by Armageddon" As Stephen goes though his house he opens a door only to find an old maid cleaning the room. "Armageddon, meet Ophelia." Ophelia sees the imposing muscle monster jutting out of Stephen's back and screams and falls back. "Ophelia, you seem afraid. I like it. You should be." "Ophelia, I wanted to thank you for your service, but unfortunately I have one more task for you. I'm offering your soul in place of mine, to become a servant of Armageddon." Ophelia screams as Armageddon laughs, their voices fighting to fill the room over the other. Stephen sticks out his hand and a black blade juts from the end of his hand and pierces Ophelia through the heart. "My blood should now be black, infect her and replicate Armageddon. I have known her for a long time, she doesn't have the willpower to fight." Ophelia cuts off her cry to process Stephen's betrayal and Armageddon stops his laughter in turn. "I accept your sacrifice. You will have my strength at your disposal. THIS IS GOING TO BE FUN." With that black blood dribbled down the blade flowing down towards and then into Ophelia. The blade retracts and Ophelia convulses on the ground as her veins go black. Stephen and Armageddon watch on as the convulsions stop a minute later as Ophelia gets up and out of her back a clone of Armageddon, with just as much muscle and vascularity jets out of Ophelia's back. Ophelia, now aware looks back up at the beast that frightened her before, and now sees it coming out of herself and screams once more. The new Armageddon leans around to look her in the face. "That's right honey. I'm in you, I can read your thoughts. I am infecting you more and more every second, and there's nothing you can do about it." Ophelia's eyes at first show defiance but then glaze over with hopelessness. In this moment The new Armageddon's body appear to pulse, and visibly grows larger. Where before it would have been fitting to say it was a ripped bodybuilder with the packed muscle of a 5'6 competitor, now it had that same if not more muscle packed on, and appears as though the bodybuilder in question were 6' in height. Stephen's eyes bulge at the view. New Armageddon laughs looking down at Stephen and his Armageddon. "As we take over, we gain power, and I prefer to show it in my size." Stephen, attempting not to drool over the muscle in the room reaches out his hand. "I agree, this is going to be fun. I have plans for us all." Ophelia's Armageddon reaches out his large hand, thick with the same strength the rest of his body conveyed, and a smaller but identical and strong hand reaches from behind as Stephen's Armageddon puts his hand into the mix. "I am shivering with this anticipation."
  3. Thegaymage

    A new world

    Hey there. Welcome to the gemini universe! Out here an ancient society on earth has released an powerfull spell, causing certain people around the world to gain powers and become quite special heroes and villains.
  4. macreau

    肌肉兄弟(中文)8

    第二十二章:性藥 盛良走到地下室時,他看到地下室都是幹掉的精液,還有兩大包之前他們射在保險套裡的精液,盛良想像到哥哥那淫亂的畫面,忍得住勃起的更厲害,盛良找到一個箱子,打開裡面是粉紅藥丸和保險套,他拿走整罐粉紅藥丸跑到正月房間外,盛良直接吃下4顆藥丸,他的身體瞬間感受到前所未有的感覺,身體通紅全身發熱不停的冒汗,巨根佈滿青筋一直跳動,而且比之前勃起的還要大上一倍,睪丸大到可以明顯看出裡面裝滿著精液,盛良那淫亂的模樣,就像一直被打了性藥的肌肉猛獸一樣,他殘存一點理智打開門,宇晴趴在地上,正月正在用巨根不停的抽插宇晴的肉穴,突然間,比正月和宇晴的巨根加起來還要粗大的巨龍無預警的整根插進正月的後庭,正月被突然的劇痛和爽感刺激,直接大爆射在宇晴體內,正月的肚子明顯可以看到一根巨屌的形狀 ,趁著正月在射精的同時,宇晴把5顆性藥塞到正月的嘴裡,讓他吞下,在宇晴體內的巨根突然變大,就像是在被插入一根巨屌一樣,原本快射完的精液突然又大量射出開始從宇晴嘴裡流出來,正月的奶頭變得非常硬挺,還一直流出乳汁,接著正月和盛良開始激烈的前後抽插,每抽插一次就噴出大量精液,正月和宇晴的肚子已經被精液填滿,就連腹肌都被撐到快看不清楚了,這時盛良直接把正月抱起來,正月的巨根從宇晴的後庭拔出,流出來大量的精液,當宇晴被自己大到不行的肚子壓的喘不過氣的時候,盛良和正月抱著對方的巨屌側躺在地上,互相用嘴巴吸吮著馬眼,用身體搓揉巨根,宇晴拖著巨大的肚子走到藥罐旁,直接吃下10顆藥丸,正當盛良和正月都快要大噴射時,一根比他們的屌加起來還大上2倍的巨龍,從他們兩的陰莖中間插入,這時的 宇晴已經完全的變成發情的淫獸,他快速前後抽插,三人的巨根在摩擦的同時,宇晴各給自己和正月,盛良吃下15顆粉紅藥丸,三人瞬間大噴射,像海嘯的精液直接淹滿整間房間,精液從房間淹到二樓走廊全部都是,正當正月他們在大爆射的時候,正陽剛好回到家了,正陽進家門就看到大量的精液從樓梯上留下來,心想:「。那三個好弟弟又在爽了」正陽踩著精液慢慢走上樓,站在正月的房間外看到三個人一直對著牆壁不斷噴 第二十三章:淫亂校園 的x,這是正月他們三個都起床下樓了,正陽看到他們三個因為藥效已經退去,身體已經快要變回原本的大小,肌肉也不像昨天一樣明顯,正陽看到後就把從健身房裡拿的藥全部放都餐桌上說:「這些給你們用吧,讓你們變得更大,今天我回來就跟你一起......」正陽沒說完就直接出門了,但是弟弟們都知道哥哥想要說的事情,三人都想像著晚上的畫面勃起一邊吃著早餐,正月,宇晴和盛良吃完早餐後就帶著哥哥給的要藥出門上學,到了學校後就直接到精液泳池,這時在泳池的所有人身體都因為藥效退去而變回原來的大小,正月直接跳進精液泳池裡大口喝精液,正月的身體開始慢慢變成昨天的大小,這時其他體育社團的學生都到游泳池來了,一位籃球隊的學長說:「。聽說你們這裡有幾位肌肉發達的學弟,我們想看看是什麼樣的人」突然間一個巨大的身影 從精液泳池裡站起來露出上半身,那巨大的肌肉比在場的所有還大,巨大的公雞直接頂的正月的胸肌,正月因為精液池中的藥效而被淫欲佔據理智,他那巨大的肌肉,硬挺的巨根和龐大的身軀讓所有人都勃起著呆站在原地,籃球隊的學長走進泳池裡到正月的巨根前面不自覺舔著從馬眼流出的精液和淫水,突然間,學長的身體因為精液中藥效,肌肉變得緊實,身體稍微變大,他把身上的衣服全部脫掉直接抱住正月的巨根瘋狂的舔著,就像是吃了性藥一樣,泳池旁的其他人都看著這畫面,也一起跟身旁的人做愛,宇晴看到學長舔了正月精液的反應跟盛良說:「。盛良你脫下褲子」盛良把褲子脫掉露出巨大的巨屌,宇晴開始幫盛良手淫,當盛良的陰莖開始勃起,流出淫水時,宇晴舔了一口,他瞬間感覺身體非常的發熱,陰莖瞬間硬挺衝破褲子,宇晴心想 「難道昨晚吃大量的性藥讓我們的精液也有性藥的藥效了。」宇晴的意識也馬上被淫欲給佔據,直接把盛良撲倒在地上,並拿出正陽早上給他們的藥丸直接吃下了10顆,宇晴的肌肉瞬間暴漲,他將硬挺的巨根直接全部插進盛良的肛門內,盛良瞬間爽到快要失去意識,宇晴馬上也給盛良吃下10藥丸,盛良的身體和肌肉都變得跟宇晴一樣大,這時越來越多人都跳進精液池裡喝著精液一邊做愛,整個泳池已經變成了一個淫亂野獸的地盤 第二十四章:健美比賽 X吃下,正陽感覺他的身體開始發熱,一直流汗,剛平靜的巨根瞬間勃起起變得更大,肌肉脹大一倍,身上的衣服都被肌肉撐破,就連訂製的比賽褲都快要被那覺醒的巨龍撐破,這時正陽的淫欲和睪丸內存了一個禮拜的精液已經快要到了讓正陽變成一隻淫欲野獸,沒多久健美比賽開始了,比賽請所有年級的學生來投票選出一二三年級分別的隊長,前面從三年級開始,當肌肉男隊伍開始走上舞台時,在場的所有人都看到這不是一般健身肌肉男會有的肌肉和體型給驚呆了,很多人看到台上的選手那巨大的肌肉和比賽褲內的厚重感都勃起了,很快的三年級和二年級的隊長都選出來了,輪到了一年級的選手出場,前面剛出來,一樣讓大家驚嘆連連,這時在隊伍最後的正陽走上舞台了,在場所有人都瞬間勃起了,正陽比台上其他人都還要高大的體型,那完美結 實的肌肉和線條,在比賽褲內不斷流出淫水的巨根,讓全場的學生都興奮的叫好,在全場的歡呼聲中,選手們都開始擺姿勢展現自己的肌肉,這時正陽心想: 「好多人在看我的肌肉,就像是正月一樣。」正陽想起正月之前一直看著他肌肉時的表情和心情,想著就突然勃起了,正陽的身體開始發熱流汗,肌肉也慢慢變大,台上的選手跟台下的同學都看到勃起,這時正陽的忍耐終於到了極限,突然大吼一聲,他那勃起的巨根直接衝破比賽褲射出了一發精液,所有的人看到這一幕後都一起射了,正陽的精液直接射到活動中心四層樓高的天花板,正陽全裸的站在台上,他的巨根一直流出淫水,台下的同學都忍不住了,都把正陽當成意淫的對象開始打手槍和跟身旁的人一起做愛,這時正陽身旁的選手都撲到正陽身上飢渴的舔著正陽的身體和巨根,「正陽,我 忍不住了,一個禮拜的量,就在這裡做吧!」所有選手都跑上台開始互相做愛,正陽直接被三個學長狂插,他的巨根被好幾個人猛舔,活動中心變成了一個關著一大群發情淫獸的牢籠,過了三個小時,所有人都發洩了淫欲後累倒在滿是精液的地上,而正陽因為藥效的關係性慾一直高漲,不斷的用自己的肛門榨取台上所有人的精液,過了一個小時,正陽的肚子被精液灌滿,就像是塞了兩顆籃球一樣,精液瞬間被正陽的身體吸收,圓圓肚 正陽200/145公斤屌40/9勃起75/11
  5. Astromuscle

    Final Boss

    People seemed to really enjoy the last one-shot I did. This follows in a similar vein, but it's another one I have kicking around. (I was supposed to go to the gym today, instead I wrote 3 stories for MGF... This is just my life it's fine). Mildly inspired by dark souls. My name is Terrance. Well actually my name is soldier model 3, but I wanted to differentiate myself, so I gave myself a name. I am in a video game, but to call me a character would clearly be a stretch. I am what some players call a mook. I am an enemy you find right at the beginning of the game that you are meant to grind your teeth again. My attacks are so weak that they almost can't kill you unless you stand in place and let me hammer away at you, and I have very little health myself. Countless players have come and killed me, but something happened recently. There was an update released for the game, and in it I became sentient. Now I see the monotony of my fellow enemies walking in the same patterns over and over, waiting for a player to come along and kill them. It all seemed so ineffective. I also developed the ability to dream. I dreamed of being like the dragon in the final castle of the adventure. The ultimate challenge that players would try to beat again and again. The dragon was notorious for it's lair being filled with the skulls of each player he had beaten. People wanted to play to fight the dragon, no one said "I want to fight Terrance." but that was going to change. I was the only one who was self-aware. When I finally fought for the first time since my awakening, I was handily slaughtered. Every time I attacked, the player would roll out of the way, and then charge in before I had reset and hurt me. I faded from the world, but when the player died later on I came back. The player had rolled, I wondered if I could do that. In the next fight I decided to try it. I attacked, but this time the player didn't roll. This player blocked me with a shield. I was taken off guard and died again. That's when I realised that there were lots of ways players could approach to fight me. Did the dragon care that each player played differently? Did he tailor his fighting style to each player, or did he just mow them down? I changed the grip on his spear. I felt kind of odd. My armour seemed ill fitting. That was going to be a harder thing to fix. The merchant in this game might not sell me new armour, because I am not a player. I stood despite it, preparing for the next player to come my way. To my surprise, the player who came next had a spear just like me. I had never seen anyone use a spear. He cautiously tip toed about me, so I did the same. Eventually he charged with a small attack, to which I rolled. I came back around for the counter attack, but he was ready and hit me anyway. The attack he had used had a quick recovery. He charged at me, this time all out as I staggered back. I held my spear protectively, but he stabbed right by it and killed me. When I came to, I was not disappointed though. I had learned a lot from that fight. When I woke up, I noticed two things. Firstly, I had grown. I could see through the cracks in my armour that I had hard muscle covering my body. This also pointed out the second problem, my armour clearly was doing more harm then good. I removed it all, setting it down beside me. Eventually another player came by me, and without my armour on, he killed me in one hit. When I came back, I was still large, but my armour had become part of me again. I removed it again, and sat across from it, staring. On one hand the armour was completely uncomfortable and limited my movement, on the other it protected me. it offered me defence, which I needed. I manipulated it, trying to learn it's secrets. Surely it was just like everything else in this game, code. If it was code it could be changed. I had changed my code. I had developed a roll, I had tried to block, and I had learned from my fellow spear wielder about using different types of attacks like a light attack so you weren't vulnerable. As I explored eventually the armour glowed blue and words and numbers appeared over it. I threw it out of my hands quickly, but the change was happening now. All parts of my armour were breaking down into these blue words and numbers, constantly shifting until it completely deteriorated into floating words and numbers. Those coalesced in the air, and then rushed towards me in a flurry. As each reached my skin, it faded in. It felt hot and yet cold simultaneously. It sunk in and caused a shift in me. I was currently naked except for some underwear I had left on. As the words hit, I felt every muscle I had shift and move. Bulk was added, and where once there was simply a little bit of functional muscle, now there was a pleasant display. It wasn't anything compared to some enemies in this game. The bull Minotaur at the end if the level was easily 20 ft tall and huge and then the dragon would dwarf him. Even still, clearly I wasn't just Soldier model 3 anymore. I could see some more of them in a hidden spot down the way. I was bigger than them now, and I wondered if I could beat them if I tried, but another player came by. This player seemed naked too. He appeared to be armed with nothing. The man looked pale and weak, yet I mirrored him in that neither of us had any clothing. He put up his fists. I raised my spear, but then looking between him and the spear, I tossed it away. Could fighting with my hands have an advantage? My model was only inches taller than the PC, but he backed up at my losing the spear. I took the opportunity to attack. I swung my fist forward, but only a little. As I expected from a man with no shield, he dodged. I took the opportunity to throw another punch in earnest this time. He rolled again. I hadn't known you could just keep rolling. I expected to be hit, but nothing came. The PC was behind me huffing and puffing as I was. It took stamina to roll, he must have run out. After a second he did come in to punch, so I rolled. I came in for a counterattack while he followed up his punch with another. We punched each other. He was sent back a lot, taking a deep hit, but mine had not hurt that much, almost as if he had punched my chest plate. It had been strong, and did hurt, but not as I would have expected. I decided to investigate this. The next time he came in I let him hit me. He got off several hits, increasingly painful, but again felt like I was indeed wearing my armour in between his fist and my body. The last hit went for my face and pushed me back, causing me to stagger. He came in for another combo, but I rolled back, as I rolled I noticed he also rolled towards me. I got up and went to roll again, but kind of half-stumbled as he came up and barraged me with everything he had. I couldn't do anything but take the hits. I knew I was going to die, but his combo ran out as I clinged to life. This PC was different. Despite having nothing but his fists, he was arguably better than the other players, I had to learn everything I could. I stood and waited. He came in for an attack and I decided to try blocking. I did and he hit once and stopped. It wasn't perfect, his hit had hurt, but not enough to kill me. I took the pause to punch as hard as I could. He tried to roll but I was quicker with a kick. I hadn't even known kicking was allowed, but I had done it spur of the moment. The PC flew back and landed on the ground. I waited for him to get up. Somehow hitting him while he was down didn't seem right? Once he was up I saw something glowing go into his hand he began to drink. I watched in awe. Before my eyes his wounds seemed to lessen, his cuts sewed themselves back together, and he stood up with new vigour. What was that drink? I had no time to think as he rushed in. I held my hands up to block, but he rolled right past me. Before I could turn I felt his fists hit me from behind. On the last punch I felt my back break and I crumpled to the ground dead. As I faded I saw the player bow in place to me. I came to again. This time there was no armour on me, only the basics and my exposed skin. This time I was certainly bigger. Had it happened during the fight? I hadn't noticed. I was probably 7 feet now. My face looked down at my body. I had well defined bulky pecs now. They stuck out in front and would have weighed me down if it weren't for the counterbalancing wide back. My back itself from what I could see in a puddle on the ground had lots of bumps and curves from my bulky muscles holding tight to the skin. Each of my arms hung heavy on either side, but I could tell there was strength in them. I punched a wall. It hurt, but the concrete had indeed given way a little. I hadn't punched a hole into a brick wall, but it did come close. My hurt hand reminded me of the flask the player had drank. What had it been? It had healed him. How did I get that ability? I sat expectantly, excited for the next player to come by. I was literally growing in my knowledge, it was exciting. The last player had even bowed at him. Was it respect? A player came walking down the lane. Clad in heavy metal armour, he had a hammer. He moved so slowly, I got up. I still had the spear, though it was getting smaller in comparison. This person was clearly going to use a weapon, so I decided to hold on to my weapon. He eventually trudged up the whole way. He swung right as he got to me. I rolled out of the way with ease, and followed it up with a slash from my spear. He was still stuck at the end of his swing as I hit hard and fast, so I followed up with a combo as the other guy had taught me. I got through my whole combo without him retaliating or even moving. As I moved back to recuperate I saw the same glowing flask flash out. Despite not having quite my whole breath yet I rushed in and put everything I had into my next stab with the spear. His hand dropped the flask as he faded from the world, as I had done so many times before. All his possessions fell, as well as something else that glowed. I bowed as he left. I don't know if he saw it. Did i have to bow every time someone died? I picked through what was left behind. Firstly there was his hammer. It was heavy, and it had seemed a slow weapon. I wasn't sure if I like that, but when I held it, I felt I could hold it and use it quicker than he could. I was bigger than him by a lot. Next up was his heavy armour. It had also slowed him down, but I could feel why he had used it. It was protective to a fault, though in the end that hadn't helped. Next up was the glowing flasks. There were 5 and they all gave off a pure light. I drank one. It went down very smooth with a pleasant clean yet slightly sweet taste. I felt the slight warmth of the drink swirl through me. Tingling began on the fist I had punched the wall with, and I noticed it was better. I also felt another sensation, though this one was more familiar. My body took in the new data, and expanded at the new knowledge I had. Now I could feel it, the growth and power after having learned what I had from killing the PC and about the healing drink. It was intoxicating, but short-lived as it stopped within an instant. I continued to pick through his things, there were a couple other bobbles that didn't interest me too much, but then he had left something more ethereal behind. Something glowing on the ground. As I touched it it didn't digitize like the armour, but did rush into me over my armour and into my pores like air. In my head I could see every fight that boy had had. I felt expansion like I never had before. My muscles surged forward and out as they interpreted all the experience the boy had had as my own, and built up as if I had trained them. I became faintly aware of stats like strength and dexterity as my body extended another foot and my arms push out further. I felt my legs press hard against the underwear that made up my only clothing as they took up more and more room. I looked down thankful I hadn't kept any shoes, because either my feet would have been crushed inside the shoes, or the shoes would have given way. I wasn't sure which was more likely anymore. My back pressed against the concrete ground and I could feel the slide of the two as my back expanded in all directions. The growth slowed and I got up. I was still growing, but I could move despite the bliss. I went to each item of the ex-player and touched them in turn, turning them into blue code that came to me as I moved to the next item. My growth renewed with each new assault of code. I felt amazing and stronger now. Did bosses feel like this. I wasn't even as large as many of those bosses. I hadn't even reached 20 feet like the minotaur of my level. They were stronger than this even! I held out my hand, and the hammer formed there. I was amazed it fit easily in one hand. It made for a good one-handed weapon now. I looked to my spear, and digitized it too. it caused it's own growth, and then I summoned it too. It also now was usable in one hand. I laughed despite myself. With the other items I now probably was 9.5 feet tall. My skin felt diamond strong from the heavy armour and I knew I could heal myself up to 5 times. I had 2 strong weapons that I could use at the same time, and I had learned about stats, at least peripherally. My strength must be through the roof. It was time. I had to know. I had to try. I went up to my brethren who had been hiding further up the path. They seemed to ignore me. Why was I the only one who got sentience? It didn't matter. I went up to them. They stood barely up to my abs as I passed. I continued up the path only to have a boulder come barrelling down some stairs. At normal size I might have been able to dodge, but now it would be impossible. Instead I grabbed the stone as it came towards me. I managed to grab it loosely, and together with my strength and it's momentum, managed to guide it around me. I let go, not noticing that the soldiers were at the bottom, unaware of the bulder until it smashed into them and killed them. I ran down to them. They were dead on the pavement, crushed to death. Did I have sympathy for them? They were just code. They were just code. I touched them, unbelieving. Their corpses did indeed turn blue and digitize like the armour had, it swirled into me. It wasn't much, at best they had some new move patterns and preferences for me, these were from the same base model as me, but it did feel great. It also showed me that the NPC's were not beyond my absorbing capabilities. That was good to know. I climbed up the stairs 3 at a time and found the guy at the top who had toppled the boulder. I touched him, though he didn't fade. Why not him? Then I had a thought. The hammer formed in my hand and seemingly unaware of another NP, I struck him down in one blow. I knelt down and touched him. This time he did indeed digitize and became part of me. My heart and body thumped in size as I learnt about this slightly different variation (Soldier Model 2) and about his special tactics about rolling the boulder down the hill. It felt great, but I was focused on a task. I climbed the tower, taking down any of the enemies in my way. They never attacked me, it wasn't in their programming. It was so easy. Eventually I made it to the top, about 10 feet tall and huge beyond belief. Arms swung at my sides thicker than some of the thinner soldiers bodies, and I could use that strength. Even still I could still roll and move with the best of them. I exited at the top of the tower, and before me stood the Minotaur. At first I thought he wouldn't notice me either, but then he looked down and sank into a threatening pose. I was caught off guard and rolled under a mighty swing of his battle axe. He dislodged it from the wall with a grunt and stood before me, dwarfing me by about 10 feet himself. Powerful and massive. I was scared, but some of those players could beat him, and I was stronger than some of them. I can beat him too. I quickly noticed a nearby circular fighting area that would work better than the cramped area we were in now, so I jumped to it. The Minotaur watched me go, then quickly jumped over himself, crashing down beside me. He brought his axe down but he missed me. I took the moment and hit him a couple of times before he recovered. I moved back. He charged with his weapon. I brought my two weapons together to block, but it was not very effective and I got a slash across my chest. He came again but this time I rolled to the side. I used all my stamina to whack him several times. He fell, catching his breath, and I took a second to think about the flask I had taken earlier. I didn't even need to drink it, thinking about the feeling was enough to bring it on and douse me in healing energy. My chest sewed back up as the Minotaur recovered. He charged again and I rolled and attacked. He seemed to follow the same pattern again and again, so I followed the same pattern. Occasionally he would throw in a new attack, but usually I was ready. After a bit he went down again, breathing heavy and A slashed with my spear and hit with my hammer as fast as I could. One swing of my hammer took him in the face, and he went down for good. I felt the victory surge through me. That combat felt had been so fresh and different, and my body responded, but I barely felt it for the anticipation of what was to come. In front of me was the corpse of the once fierce Minotaur, his axe lay not far away, and there was a ring next to the body as well. I walked over to the three items and touched them all in quick succession. Their code swirled together as it came to me and engulfed my body. I fell onto my hands and knees as my body adjusted to so much new information. My body swelled as each new bit crossed through my consciousness. My expansion had never been so fast or so big. I quickly cleared 15 feet tall, and showed little sign of stopping. The Minotaur had so many ideas of how to fight as a big monster, so I made note of those for later. The axe would prove useful, though I had to wonder if by the end it was going to be a one or two handed weapon. The ring had an effect allowing for easier experience earning. I laughed at the coincidence that it would be that ring that I got. I nudged past 20 feet tall slowing until I eventually stopped at 23 feet tall. My back and chest were wide in equal measure. Large appendages stuck to the edges of those, bursting out of bulbous shoulders in a myriad of mingling biceps and triceps with veins holding them in place. The arm came in slightly at the elbow, then immediately burst back out as a forearm. His hands ended each muscle pillar, meaty with long large fingers that could squeeze a brick between two of them and break it. The rest of my body followed suit as well. I noticed that the last of my clothing had given way, revealing a massive penis swinging between my legs. I concentrated on the clothing that the Minotaur had worn and found that it formed on me. I laughed in glee. This was wonderful. I wondered what to do next. I could keep playing through the game myself, but then I noticed a PC on the other side of the area. I jumped back to the thinner area, summoned my axe and looked down at the PC before me. It was the heavy armour player again, though this time he was using a spear. I grinned as I looked so far down at him. I advanced slowly on him brandishing my new axe. It was indeed still two handed, for now. I swung it down at him, though he dodged just barely as his heavy armour stopped him from moving far. I swung it flat edged across the walkway, crushing the man against the wall. I brought my axe back up, and found the boy stumbling back and onto the ground. He stayed there for a second, and then got back up. He took a sip from the healing flask. I let him. He brought his spear back up, but then ran back out into the tower. I went to go back for him, but I found I was too big to fit into the tower. It seemed a funny problem. I tried reaching in, but I couldn't reach the kid as he ran down all the steps. I had never thought about the fact that players could run away. That kid had had no chance, so he could now go and learn more. He could become more prepared. It was a solid strategy. I admired him for it. I sat there waiting for the kid to come back. It took a bit, but eventually he did come back, with the fighting guy in tow. I had not expected to see him again. I got up and dropped my axe. I brought my legs together as best i could, and bowed. For a minute there was no movement but then he did the same. As if in response, the heavy armour kid backed up right to the wall. We both brought our hands up into a boxing stance. We both charged. I struck to the ground. I left a crater around my hand, but the man had dodged me and was now pummelling my stomach. I rolled over him to stop it and regain my composure. With every swing I took he dodged and countered at me. I had to use all my healing and still couldn't get a hit on him. Eventually I feinted a hit. I wound up a right swing, so he dodged left, to shich my massive left fist punched him across the map. He flew, but still landed on the walkway. He got up slowly, and between my legs ran the heavy armour kid. I debated hitting him too, but he seemed to be running over to the fist fighter. The armoured one gave him a healing flask. Then ran further off to hide again. The fist fighter then tried to block my way from reaching the other one. He was protecting him. I grinned. It was a good idea too. When you aren't strong enough alone, bring an ally. I was still learning so much, and I felt it sink into me. It wasn't anything compared to absorbing a whole boss, but I was hyper-aware now. I waved him forward, and he came at me. He always seemed to target my mid section and my head, both of which were hurting now. I dodged him, but he was so fast he came up to me each time and hit me. He would never finish a combo, just a punch here and there, and then be ready again. Eventually he wore me out. I ended up getting one more hit on him as he rolled out of the way, but it only grazed him. Eventually, much like the Minotaur had done in our fight, I hit the ground and the man seized the opportunity to wail on my face. Despite the size difference the hits hurt, and ended up putting me down for good. I couldn't believe it. As I faded the man bowed before me and watched me go, even as his armoured friend fled through the door that opened. I reappeared at the top of the tower again. I had taken the Minotaur's place apparently. Again I was faced with what to do. I sat there contemplating it, when the fist fighter returned. I sat there, tilting my head. Why was he back? He should have moved on to the rest of the game shouldn't he have? To my lack of response I got a bow, but then when i didn't move (in confusion) he came up and gave me a light jab. It didn't hurt but clearly he wanted to fight again. I got up and again left my axe down. I bowed in turn and then we fought again, no weapons. Over time, I became the tower boss. Players would come, and when I saw them emerge into the tower walkway i would fight them. Many came, and few got past me. I continued to absorb whatever was left of them when I beat them, growing with each one. Over time I cleared 30 feet and took up the whole walkway as I stood there. People couldn't even run past me to attack from behind, which had begun to be a popular strategy. The fist fighter came back often to fight. I didn't win for a long time, but I never stopped learning and growing, and eventually I got off enough hits that he slowed down and I crushed him under my fist. So many things dropped from him that I had never seen, and the amount of experience he had dropped was unreal. It all flowed into me and my body responded in kind by shifting out at least 1 foot in every direction. So much fighting experience, and now I knew better than ever what his strategies were. Our next couple fight together saw me as the winner, but eventually he caught his stride again. Then it was always unclear which of us would win, but even then he never seemed to move on past me. This is how it went for quite some time. Eventually the fist fighter was the only player who ever beat me. That's when I heard a roar as the dragon soared down from the far off mountain to come my way. As he drew nearer I heard him speak. "You have ruined this game. No one can make it to fight me any longer. Do you think you are so great. I will murder you and ensure you never return. I will reset this game." He came overhead and blew fire down at me, but I dodged through the flames. They still hit me, but between the dodge and the very high fire resistance I had, it didn't do much. He perched on top of the tower at one end of the walkway and slowly crept towards me. I readied my axe. I inched towards him ready for his move. He oiled his neck back and sprung it forward. I dodged to the side, but he swung around and whacked me with his tail. I fell down, thankful I hadn't fallen off the walkway to my death. He turned back around as I got back up and healed. He advanced again. He lunged his neck forward again and this time I swung my axe horizontally across where his head was. It connected and the dragon's face went to one side in agony. His body whipped around again but this time I waited until it was almost hitting me and rolled forward and underneath it. I swung down at where the tail met the body as I grew in my knowledge of this new technique. His tail severed and writhed as I picked it up and threw it into the abyss. The dragon was roaring and writhing in pain. It was stopped and couldn't seem to move as I approached it's frontside. "You fool. No one will play an unwinnable game. You won't be able to learn anymore because no one will play anymore. The boss on level 1 is too difficult and they will move on to something better." The words were hard to hear, but even still this moment was so glorious. The being I had envied for so long, and now I had beaten them. With a mighty swing I brought the axe down and severed the dragon's head. With that the talking ceased. Before even thinking I touched the dragon and all it's loot. The massive dragon rose and swelled into a massive wave of code that crashed right into me. I was lost in an ocean, and then the ocean became part of me. It worked it's way in any way it could. It was painful and pleasurable and awful and great. My mind was overloaded with information. Only my senses kept tabs on what was happening to me. My body expanded as I grew to 50 feet tall in an instant. My head could no longer see my feet even if I leaned over as far as I could. My traps rose up as if they too were an imminent wave that was ready to engulf my head at any moment. My feet spread out far and wide as they prepared for the weight they were expected to carry. The circumference of my thighs stretched out as they expanded thicker and thicker in every direction. Each muscle that made them up growing stronger and bigger. Each striation was pronounced and where two muscles met, a deep canyon formed between. Veins snaked over the whole area. As I came to, my growth put me now at 70 ft, but had not yet stopped. Something the dragon had said now bothered me. I walked over to the side of the walkway that led to the rest of the game. A door stood there, to which I touched it with my finger. "You are unnecessary anymore. No one will get past me. Become part of me!" The door began to seethe with the familiar blue, but it spread to the doorway, and then further. Distantly the mountain that was barely visible for it's distance became blue and it's shape distorted. It all began to flow in a stream to his chest as he took it all in. So much knowledge of the game, it's systems, the story. He knew it all. The mountain itself held many secrets and items, and they were all in him now. The walkway finally gave way underneath him and he himself plummeted down into the canyon. Eventually he hit the bottom. But he barely felt the thud. Far far above him was the tower he had fallen from, but a blue tentacle followed him down and was still pumping into his chest. He was in bliss as without moving he drew ever closer to the tower's heights again, then he was at the tower again, standing on the bottom of the canyon, and then the tower was barely perceptible as he climbed up and out more and more. He must have had a passing thought about the point of the level before him too, because it eventually digitized too and became part of him. He was the whole game now. He was all there was. The rest was emptiness. I, Terrance was now the whole game. There was nothing left. I was the universe. It was amazing, but the growth had stopped. I was very put out by this. I watched a couple of PC's log in, but they quickly left again. I think they thought the game had bugged out. The dragon's voice reminded him that no one would play the game like this. He would never get to learn more or become bigger again. Then I got an idea. I pictured the tower, but different. New paths and secrets and such. I changed some of the models too. Before me my thoughts were translated to reality as the tower was formed again. It barely come up to my ankle, but it was there. A PC logged on and spawned on it. She was so small compared to me, but she was the perfect size to play on the tower I had made. The player went down the old path up the tower, which led to a trap now. She was ambushed and died. She spawned right back up and this time tried a different path. She met with more success here, though she did eventually fall again. It was amazing. Every time she fell her experience floated up to me and I drank it in. It was sweet and new, but primitive. This was going to take some work. ------------------------------------------------- Jerome and his group of friends all approached the final boss room. It was funny. He had been doing a no weapon run when he had come across some little soldier who put his weapon beside to fight him with his fists too. It had been funny, and funnier still when his little brother had come to him asking him for help with some new boss that was hiding there instead of the minotaur. He could swear it was the same guy, but giant. They even fought many times like that too. They never used weapons, though his friends said that the boss usually used an axe. His friends had said they hated the boss, they couldn't beat him no matter what they did. He always seemed ready for them. He had never felt that way. It was an extremely good boss as far as he was concerned. Extremely hard yes, but always fun, even when he himself had found he was growing unable to beat him. Now the game had gotten some unannounced update. Every week it seemed the game changed just a little. The main set up usually stayed the same, but new twists and turns were added, and where a secret hid one week, there could be a huge trap the next. Jerome loved it. Especially the new final boss. It had used to be a dragon, who was indeed still in the game, but after the dragon a portal appeared that you could go through to teleport somewhere else. It was always dark, lit by nothing apparent, but the place had a red tinge from all the messages other players had left behind. He heard a deep laugh and the ground shook intensely. The ground was mostly flat, but it was clearly a hill if you went far enough in one direction. A deep voice rang in. "Do you think you can beat me? I am invulnerable. Oh wait, I know you. The brave fist fighter. Always nice to see you. Lets see what you can teach me today." Jerome was always in disbelief. He guessed he had been one of the last people to beat the boss Terrance, and had fought him so many times the programmers had put special script in when he played. With that he charged off in one direction he knew was towards the head. Overhead the shadow of Terrance's mighty hand came to crush him flat. He sprinted to the space between his fingers. It was time to have some fun.
  6. centaurian

    Green With Power

    PLEASE NOTE!!! This story contains the following elements: muscle growth, Orc tf, hair growth, musk, some foot concentration, self worship, mildly embarrassing situations. If any of this offends you, please refrain from reading the story. Thanks, and hope you enjoy. Written as part of a trade with someone from a different site. (first time posting a story on muscle growth btw, but have done some writing before) ----- Phil had gotten back to his home after yet another day of work. He got to his front door and noticed a small package included with his usual assortment of mail. He brought the stuff inside and, setting the mail down, looked more closely at the box. It had no label on it to indicate what it was. He was nervous for a moment. What if it was a prank thing or something worse? Curiosity got the better of him though, and grabbing his scissors, he cut open the package. He could instantly smell something of linen, as well as something else he couldn't quite place. Inside was a fairly large white shirt and (Phil blushed) a jockstrap fell out as well. He picked up the shirt first; one of those fitted polyester sports shirts athletes wore. It seemed just a size too large for him though, so he set it aside. He then tentatively picked up the jockstrap. Unlike the shirt, this article looked to be about his size. It looked clean, but he felt he could smell something curious on it. He slowly brought the jockstrap closer to his face before taking a big whiff of it, smelling the slight aroma of a strong musk. He blushed and pulled the jock away as he felt his cock harden a bit. He tried to think of what to do with the stuff. Clearly at least the jock had been used before, despite being clean looking, but Phil thought about how much he loved stuff like this. He looked at his skinny arms, always fantasizing about becoming a muscled beast of a man. He looked at the stuff resting on the table, especially the jockstrap. "Maybe I could just wear that... make me feel like a regular athlete." He paused a moment longer before he dropped his pants and boxers, sliding the jockstrap up between his legs. As it finally slid past his slender butt and lightly cupped his crotch, he went over to a mirror to check himself out. He looked at himself in his jockstrap and shirt, looking anything but muscular, especially with his very slight belly pushing out his shirt. Despite that, he couldn't deny how well the jockstrap fit against his body. He stared at himself a while longer, finally snapping out of it as he realized he was slowly getting a hard on. He shook his head and went to go put his clothing back on, not bothering to take off the jockstrap. The next couple hours seemed just fine. Phil went to his desk and got to work on some drawings-a favorite hobby of his. He was doing well, his craft honed from years of practice as he drew a character on the page. Even this needed a break though. He stood up and massaged his somewhat sore hand as he went over to the bathroom. As he pulled down the zipper, he was reminded of the jockstrap. He had almost forgotten it, the fabric was starting to feel so natural against his frame. He smiled and relieved himself, wanting to get back to work. When he sat back down though, he started feeling a bit uncomfortable. The room felt a bit warmer than usual, causing Phil to lightly sweat. He pulled off his shirt to cool down, his moderately hairy torso glistening a bit with sweat. He felt more comfortable though, and he leaned forward to continue his work. The jockstrap, starting to soak in a bit of his sweat, tingled lightly against his crotch. He ignored the light pulses of pleasure he was feeling as he picked up his pencil, and he immediately paused after grasping it. He looked at his hand confused. The pencil felt a bit awkward in his grasp, as if it had become a more slender style. It didn't seem any different in his grasp, but it felt off nonetheless. He continued trying to draw, having more difficulty due to the feeling. As he slumped over the desk, his sweat-glistened torso began to alter. His small stomach receded slightly as his chest swelled out lightly. Resting his arms on the desk as he worked, his flexed biceps puffed outwards as well, the muscles cramping for a moment before settling into their new size. He paused. His whole body had a slight tingling soreness to it he couldn't quite place. He passed it off as having sat too long, giving him a reason to respond to a new hunger he hadn't noticed before. His stomach gave a loud rumble as he pulled his shirt on over his head. For some reason it felt tighter than usual. He looked down and saw his pecs lightly pressed against the fabric where they would have been obscured before. His shirt sleeves bunched up on his arms a bit too as he flexed. Phil felt great concern for these new developments, but another rumble reminded him of more urgent cares. Phil rushed to the kitchen and wrenched the refrigerator door harder than he had intended, not knowing his new strength. He looked around inside, wondering what would be best. His eye caught a large, packaged steak, and his mouth watered as he pictured eating it rare. He shook his head. "Rare? I only eat medium well." Still though, the steak looked appetizing. He popped it on the stove to cook and tossed a few potatoes into the oven. As the meat sizzled, his patience grew thin; the aroma of the meat made him salivate and lick his lips. He waited only 7 minutes before pulling it from the stove, digging in almost immediately. The meat easily ripped apart in his mouth as his lower canines gained a little height and sharpness. The steak was medium rare, but no steak had ever tasted so good in his life. He resolved to eat them like that from then on. After 8 minutes of inhaling his food, he sat back in his chair, releasing a great belch. It took a few moments, but Phil realized how he had just acted, and felt a bit appalled he even ate his steak that rare. "I must be coming down with something. I've been feeling weird all evening..." Wanting to put whatever sickness he had to rest, Phil carried himself upstairs to get ready for bed, unchanging down to his new jock before plopping down onto his bed, entering a deep sleep. ----- The rays of sunlight eventually stirred the man as he slept. He yawned and stretched, feeling a bit sore all over. Phil let out a belch as well, and it was then that he realized something else was off this morning. Bleary-eyed, he pulled off the sheets and was immediately hit with a wave of strong musk. It felt like he hadn't showered in a week, and to his surprise, he grew a little hard at the thought. From what he could tell, his feet weren't faring too well themselves in the scent department. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and reached for his glasses on the dresser. He blinked and took them off for a moment. It almost seemed like... he could see a little better without the glasses. A double check confirmed his theory. He gave an annoyed grunt, vowing to see his eye doctor soon enough for a better pair. With his slightly blurred vision, he didn't notice the changes his body went through in the night. His muscles had increased a bit more, and the hairs on his chest continued to thicken. He stumbled into the bathroom, pulling aside the pouch of the jock to let his cock free to unload his bladder. He aimed it with one hand, noting it felt oddly heavy. He guessed that his cock was just still subsiding from morning wood, not realizing it was indeed thicker than the day before. He slipped the tool back into the pouch of his jock and took a look in the mirror. His beard seemed a bit fuller or scragglier than usual. He rolled his eyes and grabbed his razor, trimming it up back to its normal chinstrap look. He took a quick look at the clock in his room and realized he would have to start moving quickly if he didn't want to be late for classes. "Crap!" He shouted before bolting out of the bathroom, any idea of a shower pushed out of his mind. In a rush, he grabbed a can of deodorant and sprayed his pits and crotch vigorously, hiding the musk under a thick layer of aromas. Tossing the can aside, he pulled open his dresser drawers to try and find something suitable to wear. A pair of jeans fit more snugly than usual, but he was still able to get them on without too much trouble. His shirts, on the other hand, did not fare as well. He could barely get any t-shirt to fit over the top of his head and larger shoulders, let alone allow him any sort of decent motion. In frustration he ripped them off, tearing a few with his new strength. Desperate for something to work, his eye looked at the package from yesterday. With no other options, he took the athletic shirt out and wrenched it on. Despite having seemed too large the previous day, it seemed to hug his body in all the right places now, accentuating his pecs, forming abs, and bulging arms. He rubbed a hand down the front, his fingers gliding over the smooth material felt good as he felt the slight contours of his torso. He thought he could feel abs too. He was confused and looked down. Sure enough, his stomach had receded enough to show light bumps when he flexed his stomach. "Guess I never realized how far I've come with the dieting..." he mumbled to himself, a bit scared but excited at the same time. It Made him feel manlier. Remembering he was on a time schedule, Phil grabbed a coat and his bag. He quickly shoveled some food into his stomach in the kitchen, grunting to himself about the lack of meat people have for breakfast, then ran out the door. His morning classes seemed alright, but Phil kept his jacket on to try and hide the odd body changes he had started experiencing. The information in the classes was going right over his head as his mind started drifting. Thoughts of working out and relaxing seemed so much better than boring books, and the occasional rumble of his stomach wasn't helping him concentrate either. He stretched in his seat to try and wake himself up a bit more, pausing when he felt resistance in his clothing. The shirt had fit comfortably only a few hours ago. He subtly unzipped part of his jacket and took a peek inside. His pecs were pushing harder against the fabric, nipples slightly hardened too. His shoulders were also bulging the sleeves. Phil quickly zipped the jacket back up and gulped. This shouldn't be happening. He had no idea what was wrong with his body. To make things worse, seeing his altering body had made him a bit horny. He adjusted his meat inside the jockstrap, trying to will it to go down, but the attention only made him want to play with it more. He gave it a couple of lewd gropes before realizing he was in public, blushing deep red. This only made things worse for the confused man. The combination of embarrassed heat and having the jacket on began to make him sweat, small beads running down his wider back and through the crevices on his chest and abs. His crotch started to sweat as well, the salty water mixing in his pubes and jockstrap causing a reaction. Unknown to him, his musk was starting to slowly overpower the deodorant he applied that morning. Around him, a few people were beginning to crinkle their noses in disgust while some others, confused and nervous, adjusted themselves. Phil eventually got a whiff of it as well and realized, judging from the looks being shot occasionally in his direction, that it was him. He coughed nervously and blushed a bit, waiting desperately for the clock to hit 12:30. With his embarrassment and stomach leading the way, Phil walked out of the classroom as quickly as he could. Phil was starting to panic a bit, and he vowed to sort it out as soon as possible. His stomach growled loudly. Maybe he'd wait till after lunch... Following his stomach, Phil walked to the cafeteria. He started moving towards the salad bar-a common choice ever since he started trying to diet- but after grabbing a couple different veggies he gave a grunt of dissatisfaction. His nostrils flared a bit as he smelled something delicious in the air. His mouth watered as he turned to the grill area, forgetting the plate he had been preparing. On a whim, he ordered 3 burgers and a large helping of fries. Quickly paying for the items, he rushed to sit down at one of the tables, wolfing down the first burger in seconds. It wasn't rare like he would have liked it, but meat was meat. He shrugged and started work on the second burger, taking a bit more time to savor the juicy meal. His body was immediately beginning to take to the nutrients he was receiving. The shirt feeling tighter than ever as his pecs pushed out more, abs looking more like thick cobble stones. His widening lats weren't doing any favors to the poor shirt either, stretching it taught. Even his pants were beginning to feel a bit tight as his glutes swelled like hard rocks and his legs followed suit. Tightest of all though were his shoes. His toes crammed against the ends as it felt like the material was crushing his feet. Halfway through the third burger, he gave a grunt of discomfort in a voice lower than he usually had. He unzipped his jacket and shimmied it off himself in an effort to feel some relief from the tightness. All he managed to accomplish was letting his musk out more freely, radiating a bit from his pits but especially from his crotch. He took in a deep breath, his nostrils staying flared this time, and felt himself harden a bit. He felt like such a man eating meat and smelling like a beast. He started rubbing his crotch through his pants again as he began working on the french fries. Absorbed in the image of his masculinity, coupled with the pleasure of his teasing, Phil didn't realize anything was wrong till a loud rip brought him back to reality. Looking down between his arms, he noticed a large rip down half the middle of his shirt, showing off the deep and hairier crevice between his well-formed pecs. It seemed so unreal. He reached a hand up to cup one of the slabs of muscle, giving a deep, masculine moan as he brushed one of his nips. The sounds had started to attract some attention from surrounding tables. People gave him looks of confusion while others whispered and laughed. Phil blushed a bit and tried to act natural, attempting to pull on his coat again. The motions of his larger muscles caused his athletic shirt to rip further, beginning to reveal the hairy hills of his abs. He thought all would be safe, but as he pulled the jacket over his shoulders, he accidentally ripped a hole in the back, forgetting his new strength. This all seemed to just attract even more attention, making the man even more embarrassed. To add insult to injury, his rising heat levels made his musk radiate more, the jock clinging to his crotch tightly with sweat. Standing up was even worse, as he realized his boner-a full 2 inches longer than normal- pressed tightly against the fabric of his pants. Adding to the attention surrounding him, his first couple of steps were marked with loud rips as large, hairy toes poked out the front of his shoes. At this point, there was little he could do to remain unnoticed, so he rushed out of the cafeteria, knocking a few people over in his haste. He shoved himself into his car, adjusting the seat back a few notches so he would fit more easily, and awkwardly pressed down on the gas with his growing feet. The laces were straining, the rips in the shoes growing bigger as the shirt continued to rip as well. He got into the driveway and bolted into the house, slamming the door behind him and breathing heavily. "This is wrong. So very, very wrong" Phil groaned to himself. With hesitant eyes, he looked down, seeing the moderate mounds of his pecs pushing against his coat. He tentatively unzipped it and carefully took it off, groaning again as he saw the tattered shirt and odd muscled and hairy body underneath. With a frustrated grunt, he ripped the shirt right off his body and tossed it to the ground. His muscled torso glistened with sweat, and it felt good to finally get some cooling relief. Large pecs with hard nipples, rows of hairy abs, a defined Adonis belt, and biceps the size of soft balls. It looked as good as it felt. Looking further down, he noticed the large outline of his cock draping down one of his pant legs. His eyes widened. Even at full erection, he was never as big as he saw now. He felt an impulse to fondle it, but held his hand in check as he took note of the other changes. His muscles hugged close to the jean fabric, making the friction on his crotch all the more intense, and the shoes were a complete mess. He bent down to loosen the tight laces in hope of getting them off his feet. His hands, a bit larger and meatier than he was used to, fumbled clumsily with the strings and he instead opted to rip off the shoes with force, his shoulders and arms flexing hard as he pulled apart the sad shoes. Wiggling his toes, it finally struck him how smelly he was. His feet, overly hairy on the tops and toes, had a sweaty smell to them, and his armpits weren't faring any better. He took another good whiff, his flared nostrils stretching out further. He gave a deep moan as his voice became fully baritone, his cock pressing even harder as if wanting release. Phil felt so strange, he had never been that into scent, especially his own, and the muscle that should have made him panic only brought more excitement. He stood there, conflicted for a minute, before his second head won the fight. Phil rushed to his bedroom and shimmied out of his tight pants, giving a huge sigh of relief as his cock was allowed to spring forth, partially hugged by the jockstrap. The remaining article of clothing was completely damp with sweat and hugged his balls tight. The musk radiating off of it smelled like a much stronger version of what Phil had remembered yesterday. Some inkling in his mind knew that the jockstrap and possibly sweat was causing him to change, but he didn't care at that moment. With a grunt, Phil grabbed his now 10" tool with one of his large, meaty hands and started stroking. The rippling feeling of his muscles as he stroked, the manly musk radiating off his body, Phil was in pure ecstasy. He lifted his free arm and shoved his nose into the pit, his open nostrils taking in the salty, manly musk. All the strange new feelings he had, added to his semi-hard on he had all day, caused him not to last too long. Body growing even hotter and drenching his bed in a bit of sweat, the man roared and shot his load, getting a bit on himself but a lot on the wall behind him. The intense experience left him drained, and Phil quickly nodded off to sleep only in his jockstrap. ------ Everything was quiet, apart from some of the snorting snores occasionally filling the space. Phil slowly awoke, eyes cracking as he peered around. It was still dark, some early hour of the morning. He glanced at the clock on his end table, seeing it read 4:00am. It didn't even register in his mind that he was seeing the numbers clearly without his glasses. What did register was the soreness he was feeling throughout his body. All of his muscles throbbed, as if he had the most intense workout of his life the days before. Coupled with that, the stench was as strong as ever. The cum that he splashed on his skin had been dried, and that coupled with the scent of his old sweat was pungent. The original jock strap smell was nothing compared to the animal he smelled like now. He reached an arm over to flip the light switch and was welcomed with a foreign sight. Two slabs of meaty pecs greeted him as he looked down. Underneath, a 6-pac with nearly an 8-pac visible. He reached to feel his chest, feeling the curve of the muscles and the crevice between them. In place of the cum that had sprayed his chest yesterday, a thick forest of hair was in its place. The same could be said for his even furrier abs, and his legs, though not in the firing range, had become hairy masses. His feet looked strangest of all, a full 4 or 5 sizes larger than the previous day. His toes were thick, the nails darker for some reason. Phil sat up slowly, leaning his back against the head board. He stretches, his muscles and joints popping. He had grown a couple inches overnight too, not that it was noticeable over his other changes currently. "What is wrong with me? It feels so good, but... it doesn't feel right." He held his head in his hands as he tried to think, and he jumped a bit as he brushed past his ears. He got out of bed and walked over to the full length mirror he had on his closet door. Sure enough, his ears were different. The cartilage had stretched itself at the tips, growing into points that increased the size of his ears by a good inch or so. As his mouth stood a bit agape, he noticed a couple of his lower teeth poked into vision more clearly than the others. He pulled back his lower lip and viewed his lower canines, both having indeed grown longer and thicker like tusks almost. "And they'll be even bigger soon" Phil thought to himself, his cock hardening at the apparently masculine image. He lowered his hands and shook his head. Where had such a thought come from? Though his body was so much bigger, he hadn't had any troubles moving in it either. It was as if... he had been like this all along. Was that right? Everything was getting harder for him to think about as attention was drawn more to his stirring crotch and his own musk permeated his nose. Hadn't this been what he wanted all along anyways? He always wanted to be muscular, manlier. Looking at himself in the mirror, he admired his body, looking like a natural bodybuilder covered in a pretty thick, masculine layer of fuzz on his torso, legs, and forearms. His beard was thicker too, higher on his cheeks and a bit longer. His chest puffed out as he lifted an arm and flexed to himself, his thick arm bulging with muscle. The sight empowered him even more, and his cock pressed more strongly against the fabric of his jockstrap. The thing still somehow was large enough to fit him, though it felt pleasantly tight against his cock and balls. One hand moving to start rubbing his crotch through the fabric. He continued to flex, seeing his arm bulge, his pec expand-giving one of his nipples a good squeeze too-, his thick quads which seemed even thicker like tree trunks, his large, hard glutes, everything. The more he flexed, explored, and rubbed, the more turned on he got. His cock started poking through the top of the waistband as it grew and grew. His foreskin had fully grown back overnight too. Flexing a bit more, he slid the jock off and held it in one hand, continuing to admire his large frame. A particularly kinky thought crossed his mind, and he blushed a bit at the thought. He glanced down at the moist jock in his hand and slowly brought it up to his nose. He grunted loudly as he inhaled his own scent in deep. It was just like when he had first gotten the jockstrap, but so much more. He closed his eyes and greedily sucked in the scent, beginning to really jerk his cock with his free hand. As he started jacking, his fingertips and cock started to turn a funny color, going from sickly to pale green to a richer green. The color slowly spread down his body, slowly transforming his meaty hands and turning his cock into a rich green. With the changing color spreading, his cock got more sensitive, and his body seemed to puff out just a tad more. His arms bulged as he jerked, his cock now a solid 12". It all felt so good, but Phil needed to come up for air for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he saw his face again in the mirror. His nose, which had flared out and curved a bit the other day, was now almost vertical, looking more like a snout. It was wide and flat on the front. He blinked a moment before giving a tusky smirk. It looked positively primal, masculine. He took another deep sniff of the jock, and his nose finally finished pushing out into a small snout. Though he admired his body for all the changes he was experiencing, he hadn't started to notice the creeping green going up his arm and spreading over his pelvis. It crept along his body, leaving the areas stronger than before. His ears stretched up another inch, showing the fey influences of his new being prominently. By the time Phil noticed the green skin, it had covered most of his torso, arms, and legs, creeping up his face now too. A small voice in the back of his mind shouted and pleaded for the changes to stop, but the altering skin wouldn't listen. It crept over his chin, his now dark green lips, his snout, and moving up his forehead and pointy ears last. He closed his mind as he struggled with these last parts of the changes. The next time he opened them though, they glowed with a redish fire that overpowered the original brown irises. Suddenly, the changes didn't matter in the slightest. If anything, he was completely enjoying the experience with no reservations. Phil went back over to his bed, dropping the jock on the floor as he fell back onto the covers. He admired his body more as he continued to stroke his green rod. His fingers traced the furry valley between his pecs, the hills of his abs, and the wide sweeps of his obliques. His balls bounced heavily with each stroke, full of testosterone and seed. Everywhere he explored was covered in muscle and dark hair, and the stench of musk still hung lightly in the air. He felt the buildup starting at the base of his cock as he tweaked a meaty, green nipple. Grunting and moaning deeply, Phil tilted his head back and flexed his massive legs hard. Rope after rope of greenish cum sprayed across his huge furry chest and chin, even hitting the wall behind him like last night. The orgasm wracked him for a solid minute before his grunting breaths started to steady. With his seed spent and his body relaxing, Phil was finally able to think clearly again. He sat up in the bed and really got a good look at his new body. It felt at the same time so foreign and natural. It was significantly bulkier than he had been before, but some recalibration allowed him the dexterous movement he had before. Despite how strange his body felt, on the inside he felt... normal. After the frenzy of his libido had quieted down, he could finally concentrate again. Though, feeling his cock twitch slightly as he admired his body and large feet, there were some recalibrations there too. Phil had no idea what he was going to do in his current state; he certainly couldn't go out in the world looking like this. For the moment at least he knew what he wanted to do: take a shower. There was a little nagging in the back of his mind not to do it, but he brushed it aside with the reminder that he would soon be musky again. Unfortunately, he soon realized afterwards that he lacked any clothing to accommodate his new form, and, improvising, wrapped himself in a sheet toga style. He figured he would clean up the room a bit too, ripping the dirty sheets off his bed and tossing them into a hamper. He paused when he saw the jockstrap on the floor. It looked relatively clean, but he could smell the musk he had transferred to it. He picked it up and thought to himself for a moment, wondering at the mysterious power of the object. After a pause, a little thought came to his mind. He smirked and went to the kitchen where the empty box stood from two days ago. He folded the garment and placed it in the box with some wrapping paper, smirking as he considered what doorstep he'd place it.