The pain was spreading to the rest of his body now, radiating from his guts but manifesting in entirely different ways. There was…a burning ache deep inside him–everywhere inside of him–and it was only becoming worse. He heard, and felt, the first unsettling crack in his knee, and his leg gave out under him, sending him crashing to the floor…and he felt the bones in his left leg grow and extend…but the muscle and tendons attached didn’t. He screamed then, clutching at his thigh, watching his ankle extend from the leg of his jeans, and with another couple of cracks, his right leg did the same. He didn’t remember much of the next few minutes, as the rest of his skeleton followed suit–it was just a constant sensation of burning in his bones, and the feeling of his meat and skin stretching to try and accommodate his growing body. Over him, he could see the filthy ceiling, Rod leaning against the wall smoking a cigar, and certain he must be dying. But as his bones finished, his muscles followed–each beginning with a horrific, gut churning cramp, and then releasing an explosion of searing heat as they grew, matching the new length of bone, but also doubling or tripling in size and strength.
At some point, he realized he had either grown accustomed to the pain, or it had actually eased slightly; he rolled over onto his knees, jeans and shirt growing tighter across his frame, and forced his feet back under him. He felt off balance and stumbled–nearly falling over again before he found a wall to steady himself with. The entire room seemed to have shifted around him, the scale smaller–but it wasn’t the room that had shrunk–he had grown taller.
He heaved himself towards the sinks again, and in the mirror, he saw his body changing right in front of his eyes. His limbs…they seemed so long, many of his muscles still stretched taut, but everywhere he’d felt his muscles explode in size, he looked like some…brute. His chest constricted suddenly, and he gripped the sink in front of him, trying to not scream in agony. A moment later, two huge pecs burst forth on his chest, huge slabs popping open the front of his button down shirt and stretching the t-shirt underneath to the breaking point. He could barely move, and with his hands he clawed at the fabric, eventually tearing it off his body, giving him a view of his body below, the muscle speeding up and growing faster now. His pants didn’t last long–when his glutes grew, the seam down the ass tore, letting him rip them away as well, and his underwear came off in shreds soon after. He barely recognized himself in the mirror–his pretty young face resting on top of the body of some steroid ridden bodybuilder–at least until he felt the bones of his face beginning to crunch and shift against one another. He clutched at it, screaming, his chin growing angular, nose breaking and rehealing a few times, brow growing fuller and extending over his eyes which sank back into his skull.
He sobbed, looking at his new face–and then came the hairs. He could feel them, millions of hairs erupting through his skin, every single one of them like an impossibly thin needle. He scratched at his body, watching a thick, black pelt erupt across his chest and down his thick roid gut, over his shoulders and across his entire back, down his ass, arms and legs. He was distracted by an invisible hand gripping his cock and balls and tugging at them, hard, making him retch again. His sack dropped as the hand tugged, balls doubling in size, cock growing to nearly ten inches before the hand finally released him, and the pain subsided, only to be followed by a knee shaking puncture in the head of his cock. He watched a thick ring push its way out of his flesh under the head of his cock, circle up and shove its way into his piss slit where it joined with itself, becoming a thick gauge PA. Exhausted, he tried to stay upright, but his shaking legs collapsed under him and he fell to the floor, adding a small dribble of blood from his cock as the piercing healed up behind it. He barely felt the three other rings follow suit–two bursting out of his nipples and one forcing its way out of his septum. His eyes were tearing up, and he choked back a sob. The pain slid away, and what remained was exhaustion–he just wanted to collapse, wanted to sleep, wanted all of this to be some mad dream.
The door to the bathroom swung open, and Keith heard two or three sets of boots clomp into the room. “Fuck Rod, someone dying in here?”
“Nah, just a fucking pussy is all.”
“Hot piece of ass in my opinion–he been broken in yet?”
“Heh, you sure you want this one? Might be a lot to handle.”
“He sounds like he’ll moan real fucking nice ‘round my cock, is what I think!”
There were hoots and hollers, and hands started grabbing at Keith and forcing him onto his hands and knees. All he could smell around him was smoke and booze on breath, musk and piss and cum and leather. He felt someone pull his ass cheeks apart and a bearded face shove its way in, tongue slathering his hole, another face grabbing his face and kissing him. He felt…something else boiling inside him, some other lingering heat from the change. This…it wasn’t right, this wasn’t right! He wasn’t going to let these men take him, no, he…he…
He shoved the man in front of him away with a snarl, turned around and saw a squat piggy looking fuck behind him in leather gear and assless chaps, stroking his cock with one hand. He lunged at him, the others watching him pin the man down and start fucking his ass in surprise, and then they edged their way back out of the bathroom–all of them except Rod, who walked over, observing Keith roughly fucking the pig. “Good instincts, nice technique–you’ll do nicely.”
Bracken's Corner 