#Calf growth

[divya1234]

Herbocal: Grass-Flavored Calcium Tablets for Cattle Nutrition

In the world of modern agriculture, the quest for optimal nutrition for livestock, particularly cattle, is an ongoing endeavor. One innovative solution that has garnered attention in recent years is Herbocal – grass-flavored calcium tablets designed specifically to address calcium deficiency in cattle while offering additional benefits such as supporting pregnancy, enhancing milk yield, and promoting faster growth in young calves.

Calcium deficiency is a common issue among cattle, particularly in regions where forage or grazing options may be limited. This deficiency can lead to various health issues, including weakened bones, reduced milk production, and reproductive problems. Herbocal aims to combat this deficiency by providing a convenient and palatable source of calcium infused with the familiar taste of grass, which appeals to the natural dietary preferences of cattle.

One of the key advantages of Herbocal is its ability to support pregnancy in cows. Calcium plays a crucial role in muscle contraction, nerve function, and blood clotting, all of which are essential processes during pregnancy and calving. By ensuring adequate calcium intake, Herbocal helps maintain the health and vitality of both the cow and her developing calf, reducing the risk of complications during gestation and birth.

Furthermore, Herbocal has been shown to enhance milk yield in lactating cows. Calcium is a fundamental nutrient for milk production, as it is a major component of milk and is involved in the contraction of smooth muscle cells in the udder. By supplementing the cow's diet with Herbocal, dairy farmers can potentially increase milk production, leading to improved profitability and sustainability in their operations.

In addition to its benefits for mature cows, Herbocal also promotes faster growth in young calves. Adequate calcium intake is essential for skeletal development and overall growth in calves, particularly during the early stages of life. By providing a concentrated source of calcium in a form that is easily consumed and absorbed by young calves, Herbocal helps ensure that they reach their full growth potential quickly and efficiently.

Overall, Herbocal represents a promising innovation in cattle nutrition, offering a convenient solution for addressing calcium deficiency while providing additional benefits for both cows and calves. By incorporating Herbocal into their feeding programs, livestock producers can enhance the health, productivity, and profitability of their herds, contributing to a more sustainable and resilient agricultural industry.

For More Information Visit Us :

[ratatatastic]

have you ever seen porportions so wack? hes like a baby giraffe 😭😭😭

[shopwitchvamp]

Please make a flare leg option for joggers. Some of us have fat calves we don't wanna show off :/

I've got one other request for flares recently, but even if I started on those today it'd take a lot of time & testing to get them to the point of being ready to actually put up into the shop. I've got a lot of other stuff in the works right now so unfortunately flare leg pants are pretty far down the list.

[tkbrokkoli]

:3

[bunnis-monsters]

saw your bull and cow hybrid fic and found out you were doing an event!! would you be willing to tell us more about this au, no specific request i just want to know more about this, also congratulations on 5k!!!

Cow/Bull Hybrid Lore

I’m planning on making an entire post about the cow/bull hybrids but I’ll give y’all some snippets for now.

Cow and bull hybrids were created using the newest technology, crossing humans with cows and bulls. This was done to create beings that could produce milk without needing to be impregnated.

Though there are female cows and bulls, the males are the ones used for milk production the most since they can produce “milk” all year long.

Make bull/cow hybrid semen acts as a milk alternative, and is lactose free! It’s very creamy and sweet, and is very popular with women specifically.

A female farmhand is required to tend to the males, since they dislike male human hormones and charge at any males getting too close to their territory. There are male cow/bull hybrids that will form mating bonds with each other, but they aren’t likely to mate with a human male.

Each male cow/bull hybrid can produce 1-4 gallons of cum milk a day, depending on their build and species. Bulls are more likely to produce on the higher end.

Female cow hybrids are highly sought after by both cow and bull hybrid males. A heifer is seen as a rare treat, and everyone is eager to be the first to put a calf in her belly.

They have a preference for fat, chubby women. The closer you look to a heifer, the more they’re attracted. Once they’ve chosen a mate you’re screwed. You’re their breeding cow now.

Once a cow/bull hybrid gets you pregnant, he becomes very clingy and extra territorial, guarding the area you’re nesting in with his life. The bulls are eager to impale anyone that gets near, while the cows will stomp on any poor soul that tries to bother you.

You’ll be milked as if you’re an actual cow, and your baby is expected to start walking within a few days. Though, babies between humans and hybrids are rarely as strong as their hybrid parents, and are closer to their human parents in terms of their growth.

I’ll post more about them later~

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljr @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68

[sideblog-ver3]

homemade tapes (18+)

inspired by this x post (nsfw) completely early season spencer *melts*

pt2

“you okay with this?”

“absolutely.”

spencer was on his knees, bare chested with only a pair of sweats covering his legs and his black frames. he had a bit of stubble growth on his jawline and upper lip, it made your pussy clench. you stood before him in a lilac lingerie set, garters belts squeezing your upper thighs while your bare pussy was waiting in front of spencer’s eye sight.

he agreed to film a couple of videos for when he was away from cases, regular porn doesn’t do it for you and it made you feel gross looking at someone that wasn’t your husband. he was much better looking anyway, and he sounded prettier when begging. so first he was gonna eat you out then you’ll suck his dick, and then later tonight a full sex tape for yours eyes only.

“you look very pretty,” his voice thick, you saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. you couldn’t help asking, “you talking to me or my pussy?” since his eyes didn’t look directly at you when giving his compliment.

“both,” he smiled as his eyes connected with yours behind his frames. god those glasses, you could feel yourself getting wetter. “you’re keeping the glasses on, handsome.”

“yes ma’am.” spencer’s big palms slid up your thighs, his pointers curling under the elastic bands. he let them lightly snap at your sensitive skin, a faint moan slipped from your parted lips.

his fingers skimmed along the round bottom of your ass, he raked his nails along the flesh then smacked. not to hard, but enough to surprise you. “save that for later,” you remind him.

he smiled devilish, his hands now trailing along your pelvic bone. his long, slim fingers grazing beside your aching, lonely pussy. “spence,” you whined from impatience.

“i know, i know.” his lips pressed kisses from your outer to your inner thigh, one especially next to your pussy. “can’t wait to devour you,” he whispered seductively, your eyes fluttered at his words.

then suddenly his mouth enveloped you, his tongue pressing flat to your folds. you arched your chest into the air at the sensation and let your hands drop over his. his nose tickled at your pubic hair as the tip of his tongue flicked teasingly at your clit, he sighed heavily.

“you fe- feel so good.” stuttering through the tension in your stomach. your hands traveled to his brown locks, his growing hair a pleasant grip as you rut your hips further into his mouth.

spencer hummed, his lips suctioned to your folds and gave a type of french kiss to them, his head bobbing slightly with the new motion. you threw your head back, breathy groans and sighs pushing into the air.

you felt spencer pull away from a moment then felt as he changed your position. throwing your right leg over his shoulder, one of his arms wrapped behind your waist as he was able to get a more deeper angle. you moved your calf behind his head to lock him into place, keeping him stationed at your glistening center.

“oh, spen-“ moaning high when he entered two fingers at once. his thrust slow for a minute and then he started to speed up quickly, curling his tips to make a ‘come here’ motion. your toes curled at the pressure building.

his moans vibrated through your skin, his lips kissing your clit sweetly and fingers clenching around your pulsing walls. “close- so- so close.” the fire in your lower belly getting hotter and hotter by the second.

spencer’s tongue went flat again and it ran delicately over your folds, you could feel his nose bump into your skin. his fingers on your waist pressed hotly into your side, you hoped some type of indent was left behind.

“spen- i’m gonna-“ he knew what you meant as his fingers started to jackhammer and his tongue started to flick, both appendages bringing a welcome abuse. you rubbed yourself hard against his tongue and clenched tighter on his fingers, “cum- i’m-“

you threw your head back as squeezed your eyes shut at the ceiling. your stomach clenched with each harsh intake of air you took trying to bring yourself back to earth. spencer didn’t let up as he continued to suck at your overstimulated clit and thrust his fingers through your dripping release. your fingers gripped hard at his hair, probably making his scalp sore.

“too much. spence.” able to get the words out. he pulled his mouth away first, he felt gentle kisses on your thighs before he slowly pulled his fingers away. the stretch stung and you missed the feeling already but knew you’ll get something better later.

you shakily took your leg off his shoulder and dropped to the ground with him. his slick covers lips and chin drove you crazy, you dived in to taste yourself and him. your own tongue tangling with his, just like your bodies do in bed. your lips wrapped around the pink muscle and you sucked on it for less than a minute, hearing spencer moan caused your clit to pulse again.

when you release his tongue back to him and pulled your face away you both smiled sweetly at each other. your thumb caressed at his cheek, “go sit on the couch. now it’s your turn."

-

other posts: (pleasure eating) (steddie) (club bang) (big dick steve) (spider webs)

[nicsnort]

Sweet Cream

NSFW 18+ male minotaur (Tyrus) x female reader

Contains: lactation, milking, hucow, overstimulation, romantic Valentine's date, size difference, and physical transformations

Word Count: 3927

Lore/World-building prompt

Today is Lover's Day, and you wanted to do something special for your minotaur boyfriend. He loves the idea of milking you, but since you aren't ready for calves yet, you find a witch's potion to help you in making his fantasies come true.

Same minotaur character and reader found in After Party but it isn't necessary to read that one first

~

You had been seeing Tyrus for nearly three months. The relationship was going well by your standards. He was as sweet as cream despite his imposing minotaur figure. After he learned how attracted you were to monsters, he was a bit overprotective while on dates if other monsters were around, but he felt no threat from humans. However, Tyrus still snorted at any human men he caught staring at you to scare them off. Human or monster, Tyrus did not need to worry about you breaking up with him to explore your options. The two of you got along well, and you found yourself catching feelings for this minotaur who could have been a one-night stand. Not to mention the sex. The sex with him continued to be as amazing as the first night - even more so as your body adjusted to the magical effect of his minotaur essence so you could actually participate instead of just letting him use you as a sex toy. Though that was still fun to do sometimes.

After every night together, he took such good care of you. But Lover’s Day was approaching, and you wanted to do something for him.

Tyrus loved to talk about milking you during sex. It was one of his biggest fantasies. But to milk you, Tyrus would have to get you pregnant. A three-month relationship was not long enough to consider something as permanent as a calf, and both of you were busy building your careers either way. 

Then you saw it on the corner of the internet where Teratosexuals discussed their stigmatized desires but also solutions to problems they faced in their relationships with monsters. A link to a witch’s webshop that provided various potions and remedies of a sexual nature. And for sale - Moo-duce. 

The lame attempt at coming up with a clever name aside, it was exactly what you needed. A potion that would cause anyone with mammary tissue and nipples to produce milk.

You ordered the potion immediately, and it mysteriously appeared on your kitchen counter the next day. Magic was great. The potion would take 24-36 hours to produce the first milk, and the results would fade after three days or so. You drank the potion a day and a half before your Lover’s Day date with Tyrus. You wanted to make sure your jugs were full of milk for him. There had been a warning that the mammary tissue and nipples would likely be uncomfortable during the 24-36 hours of growth and milk production, especially for first-time users. Tyrus was worth it, though.

After a couple of hours, your breasts started to feel tender. A few hours later, you noticed the first signs of swelling, indicated by your breasts continuously popping out of your bra when you moved too much. By the time you went to bed twelve hours after ingestion, your breasts felt like pins and needles.

The users had recommended massaging your breasts to alleviate the feeling. So, lying there in bed, you cupped your breasts, imagining Tyrus’ hands as you massaged them. You could feel the increased weight already. They had to have swelled a cup in size. Pulling on your nipples, you imagined how it would feel to have milk pouring from them. Tyrus’ lips already felt amazing when he sucked on them, but to have pressure released when that happened? A few reviews said their nipples felt as sensitive as clits.

You couldn’t wait.

In the morning, the pins and needles had faded, but now your breasts felt hot. You walked around your home with your shirt and bra off. Luckily, you had the day off. Sometime after lunch, you suddenly felt a cool tingle around your nipples. A wave of excitement crashed over you. Biting your lower lip, you slowly looked down with anticipation. Leaking out of your areolas were several white droplets of milk.

You danced excitedly. It had worked! 

Raising a hand to your breasts, you wiped the droplets away. Your fingers lingered over your nipple. You wanted to tug on it. You wanted to feel the release. Breathing out slowly, you fought down the urge. No, Tyrus would have the honor of being the first to milk you. You wanted to save it all for him. You were meeting him for dinner tonight.

A few hours later, you started to ready yourself for your date. As you walked, you swore you could feel the milk sloshing around inside of you, yearning to be released. You had pre-bought a larger bra for this evening, but as you put it on, you realized it was too small! The instructions said to expect a growth of one to two cup sizes, but as you quickly measured yourself, you realized you had gone up three and a half!

Fuck. There wasn’t time to go out and buy another. Unless you paid the exorbitant costs of InstantImp, there was no chance to get one that fit. You weighed the options in your head. You had bought a cute but baggy sweater for a top. Despite it being baggy, people would definitely be able to tell you weren’t wearing a bra…damn it.

Opening up InstantImp, you managed to find the same bra in your new size. Of course, there was an increase in fees due to the holiday. At least you could return the other one you bought. Putting in your order, it took ten minutes for the delivery Imp to knock on your door. In your straining bathrobe, you answered the door.

The imp’s wings kept him at human eye level. He wore a bored expression, but his eyes perked up at the sight of you. His flat bat-like nose flared. “Mmmm, moo moo,” he commented, “Thirsty. Give tip?”

“I’ll report you,” you told him shortly, taking your package. The imp pouted and muttered something under his breath in its natural language before teleporting away to pick up its next delivery.

Imps were useful creatures, but their grasp of manners was as lacking as their grasp of the mortal spoken word. It didn’t help that the Imps bound to InstantImp had been created during the Great Incursion by the Demon Lords. At least, this way, they served some purpose instead of wandering in hordes, spreading corruption, assaulting people, and causing chaos. However, you were unsure if, as one of the last corporations, InstantImp was any less evil than the Demon Lords. Was it still the exploitation of labor if the creatures were literally created to serve others?

Finally, you were able to get dressed. The baggy sweater was less baggy than you had wanted, but as you examined yourself in the mirror, it was hard to tell any difference. If anything, it looked like you were wearing a padded bra.

At six, there was a knock on your apartment door. Opening it, you saw Tyrus, his big black-furred form filling the doorway, his horns barely missing the hallway's ceiling. “Omorfia mou,” he greeted, holding out a bouquet of red flowers - gallic roses, traditional for minotaurs, or so you’ve read.

“Tyrus, my handsome bull,” you replied, taking the roses and inhaling their scent. They were lovely.

“They are enchanted; they will stay fresh for over a month even without water.”

Your smile grew wider as you set them on the kitchen counter. You will find a vase for them later. Locking your door, you took Tyrus’ arm and headed outside. “So, are you doing to tell me where you are taking me yet,” you asked as he led you down the street.

“No,” he replied with a devious expression. “A surprise means a surprise. Perhaps I should blindfold you and simply carry you there.”

“A tempting thought, but I shall pass for tonight.”

“Are you sure? I could put you on my shoulders. I know how much you love to hold on to my horns with my head between your legs.”

“I believe I would be the wrong way around for the position I enjoy.”

“True. Then I could hold you in my arms, princess carry?” The two of you continued to make sexually charged banter back and forth. While Tyrus never did carry you, you completely lost track of where the two of you were going. All according to Tyrus’ plan.

“And here we are,” he announced after a ten-minute walk after getting off the tram. He gestured to a brickwork building with a large ornate wooden door that looked like it belonged in a castle. Old World was inscribed in iron-wrought letters above the door. You had heard of this place. It was a restaurant that catered to monsters and those from beyond the Rift, or the Old World as they called it. It was hard, if not impossible, for those from this plane to gain access.

You gasped and hugged Tyrus as tightly as you could. Your milk-filled breasts leaked slightly from the pressure. “Really? Are you sure it's okay? I mean - I’m allowed in?”

“No, this is just for me; eat elsewhere,” he said, barely hiding a smile as he spoke. Then, he could not keep a straight expression. His ears twitched with delight as he chuckled. “Yes, it is alright, Omorfia mou. They are doing a Lover’s Day special for those with human partners here.”

While plenty of food from beyond the Rift had shown up in restaurants, those recipes used ingredients from this plane and were changed to fit the norms here. This was as true to Old World food as you could get in this plane. 

You danced excitedly, only collecting yourself as Tyrus led you through the front doors. A kitsune welcomed you, its tails swishing majestically, before leading you to the reserved table. It seemed they knew the sizes of those who would be eating at the table as Tyrus had a sturdier chair with his size, and you had a taller one to put you at near equal height to the table. Looking around, you saw all sorts of accommodations for various monstrous bodies. Unlike the human world, those beyond the Rift were used to adjusting for a variety of needs.

The dinner was a whirlwind of new experiences. The restaurant had created a tasting arrangement for the humans in the restaurant to give them the full experience. You tried roasted mimic, braised sunroots, fermented ooze noodles, and a whole variety of other things that you quickly forgot the names of in your excitement. You washed the food down with samples of Oakengleam Stout, Glowing Mushroom Wine, and Cinder Cider, the last of which caused you to breathe out a bit of smoke with each exhale. Finally, the tour of foods ended with a slice of heart apple pie.

“They say that those who share heart apple pie on Lover’s Day will have a passionate and happy year together,” Tyrus told you, offering a bite off his fork. 

“Oh, that is very romantic,” you cooed, a blush on your face. Around the restaurant, several other people were making similar comments, as their lovers had probably told them the same thing.

You wrapped your lips around the bite he offered you, a bit more sensually than needed, then offered him a piece of your own slice. A romantic year you hoped for indeed. 

Once dessert was finished and the bill paid, the two of you began heading to Tyrus’ apartment. It was a twenty-minute walk or so, but during that time, you noticed something. Your breasts were beginning to hurt. You could feel the pressure inside of them building up, needing release. By the gods, you needed to be milked.

“Are you alright, Omorfia mou,” Tyrus asked as you reached his apartment building. “Did a dish not sit well with you?”

“No, it was all delicious,” you replied. You leaned into him as you entered the elevator. “It was the most wonderful surprise…Under my clothes, I have a surprise for you, too; it has just gotten a bit uncomfortable…”

Tyrus snorted with anticipation, his tail lifting and curving to show excitement. “Well, then, let us get it off you soon.”

You giggled to yourself. He thought it was lingerie.

In his apartment, your excitement only grew. Your nipples ached, longing to be touched, pulled, and suckled on. Tyrus wrapped his arms around you from the back, pulling you against his firm body. His fingers played with the hem of your sweater, slowly pulling it up. “Can I have my surprise now,” he asked.

You hummed in anticipation, turning around in his arms, your aching breasts brushing against his firm chest. “Oh, yes, you may.”

Tyrus’ thick, calloused fingers dragged along your sensitive sides as he pulled the sweater up and over your head, revealing your plain blue bra. You saw his brow furrow and ears flick with confusion. “Uh, it is a very pretty color, Omorfia. A push-up bra?” 

You laughed aloud. “That isn’t the surprise, silly. I never said it was something I was wearing. You see, I bought a potion from a verified witch to help make your fantasies, our fantasies, come true.”

As you spoke, you reached back and undid the strap to your bra. Pulling it away, you revealed your milky tits. “As you asked me on the night we met, can I get you a drink?”

The bull went silent as he took in your leaking nipples. You watched as his pants tented, his member growing rock hard at the sight of your milk-filled breasts. “Nomízo óti eímai erotevménos mazí sou,” he said in his native language as quietly as a prayer.

His hooves scraped against the floor as he kneeled before you. Usually, he would lift you up on the table or counter, but now he got down on your level. His large hands cupped your breasts. Your breasts had grown so large that they now overflowed his grasp instead of being engulfed by it. Tyrus snorted with pleasure as he lifted your heavy globes. His hot breath made your nipples stand at attention, milk dripping from their pores.

“Please, Tyrus. I need you to milk me.”

That broke him.

His broad tongue swept out across your right breast, licking up every leaking drop before finally wrapping his hot lips around your nipple. With a mighty suck, you felt the milk rush out of your breast, through your nipple, and pour into his eager mouth.

Your eyes closed, and your head tipped back as you moaned with pleasure. Gripping his horns, you held him in place. This was ecstatic. Each strong suck sent a jolt down your spine to your pussy. Soon your cunt was dripping as fast as your milk.

After a long suck, Tyrus broke off from your right breast and switched to the left one. You gasped with pleasure. With each strong pull of your tit, you felt your pussy clench like a slow, extended orgasm. “Fuck, Tyrus. I feel like I’m gonna cum just from this.”

He snorted, the speed of his suckling quickening. He took your words as a challenge. 

The muscles of your cunt clenched faster and faster. Gods, you were getting close. Your hands tightened on his horns. Your hips rolled, desperate for that little bit of extra to push you over the edge. You were so close. You were gonna--

Then Tyrus broke his mouth off again, leaving you at the edge of your orgasm. “Noooo,” you whined, tears forming at the corner of your eyes in frustration.

His hands held your breasts up, and he pressed them together. Lowering his head, he captured both of your leaking nipples in his mouth and sucked. Twin streams of milk shot out of your breasts and down his throat. You screamed. Your eyes rolled back in your head. Your hips shook violently as you came hard. He continued to gulp down your milk, extending your orgasm.

Finally, your body couldn’t handle it anymore. Your hands released his horns as your legs gave out from the pleasure. Tyrus caught you, releasing your breasts to hold you up. Lifting your feet off the ground, he carried you over to the sex swing he had installed a couple of weeks ago. With surprising strength, even for being a minotaur, he tore your pants off you, but the sound of ripping cloth didn’t even phase you. Your cunt was still twitching with aftershocks as he placed you in the harness face down so your breasts hung like a pair of udders.

“Look at you, agápi,” he praised, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, “just like a cow. My little hucow with milk leaking from your tits.”

Another rip of fabric, and you felt his heavy cock rest between your swollen needy lower lips. You could smell his precum. The heady scent alone caused you to moan. His hot member rubbed against your pussy as he reached around you. Tyrus’ strong hands cupped your breasts once more, his thumbs and forefingers sliding down to pinch your nipples. Then he tugged.

Milk sprayed out of your tits. You threw your head back as your back arched with pleasure. Rhythmically, Tyrus began to milk your tits. First, the right nipple was pulled, then the left, repeat. Each tug on your nipples sent a stream of milk to the floor. You felt like a cow, and you loved it.

Your hips rocked, grinding against his cock. You wanted it in you. You wanted to milk his cock with your cunt as he milked your breasts. Your clit dragged across the silky skin of his dick. So soon after your first orgasm, it was already driving you back toward the edge. 

“Tyrus, Tyrus,” you began to chant in sync with your milking. “More, I need. Mo-mo-moooooo.”

You came once again, your juice gushing over his shaft. Tyrus relented his stimulation. His callused hands slid across your skin and held your hips. He pulled his cock back and began lining it up with your unused but soaking hole. “Listen to that, just like a real cow. Usually, it takes my cum down your throat to do that.”

The flared head of his weeping dick pressed against your pussy, slowly sinking in. Each glorious inch sent you further towards the edge of sanity. It was too much, but even so, you wanted more. Through the mind-numbing pleasure, you tried to ask for more again. Still, all that came out was a series of soft moos and moans.

He began to move your hips back and forth using the swing instead of thrusting.“But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be my breeding cow. Just think how much milk you’ll make when you are heavy with my calf. I’ll keep you bred just so you are always full of milk.”

All you could do was hang there in the swing and let Tyrus use you like a toy. Each time he snapped your hips back to hilt his cock inside of you, the force caused milk to drip from your tits. As he spoke, his pace sped up. “You’ll be hooked up to a milking machine. Spending hours on end cumming from your tits alone. Then, when I got home, I’d breed you over and over and over and over and - gah - Moooooooo!”

Tyrus mooed himself as he came deep within you. You could feel his hot, creamy seed filling you up, pouring into your womb in search of an egg to fertilize. Once more, your inner walls clenched, milking his cock. You wanted it all. He was right; you just wanted to be a cow. His breeding cow.

With his cock still rock hard within you, Tyrus lifted you out of the sex swing and deposited you on the bed. It was going to be a long night.

~~~

You awoke to the bright afternoon light seeping into the apartment through the windows. Tyrus’ chest rose and fell steadily underneath you, his half-hard cock still deep within your pussy. Tyrus was already a beast in bed, but perhaps it was true that fresh milk was an aphrodisiac for minotaurs because he had fucked you for an hour straight, fell asleep, then woke up and fucked you some more.

Your body was so relaxed and delightfully heavy. Tyrus had drained your breasts of milk last night, but you already felt them filling up again. You were starving, though, and extremely thirsty. Carefully, you lifted yourself off of Tyrus, your sore but sensitive pussy twitching as his cock was freed from inside of you. Sliding off of him, your body felt heavy; your head, in particular, felt like there was more weight on it. Strange.

The movement woke him. “Mmmm, kaliméra agápi mou,” he muttered sleepily.

You recognized the first word, good morning. “It is far past morning, I think, but it is a very, very good afternoon.”

“It's Time for breakfast, still,” he replied, his eyes still closed. “Perhaps some fresh milk?”

He grinned and cracked his eyes open to look at you. A sudden look of confusion crossed his face, and he blinked rapidly. Sitting up to look at you properly, he stared. “Am I still dreaming?”

“No?” Your ears flicked with curiosity. Tyrus’ tail brushed against your leg. You looked down and saw that his tail was firmly on the opposite side, far from you. Turning your head further, you saw another cow’s tail, the same color as your hair, sweeping back and forth against your leg. Reaching down, a growing look of horror on your face, you followed it up…right to the base of your spine.

All tiredness in your limbs was forgotten as you bolted off the bed to the full-length mirror. Reflected at you, you saw your milk-swollen breasts, your normal body, but three very unexpected things: a swishing cow’s tail, a set of cattle’s ears in place of your human ones, and a pair of small shiny black bovine horns sticking out the sides of your head.

You screamed.

It took several minutes for Tyrus to calm you down. You sat at his kitchen table on his lap, sipping tea while he stroked your back calmingly. “The reviews and warnings never said anything like this,” you bemoaned.

“You are sure it was a verified witch? Not someone trying to make quick coin?”

“Yes, I mean, I am pretty sure…so many said she was trustworthy, people who are big names in the community…I followed the instructions precisely. I mean, my breasts grew more than expected, but that’s it.”

Tyrus thought for a moment. “Did anything else weird happen yesterday? Anything unexpected?”

You shook your head. “I just did housework and caught up on a few shows. The only unexpected thing was that my bigger bra didn’t fit, and I had to order a new one at the last minute.”

Tyrus hmmed in contemplation. “Wait, how did you get a new bra?”

“I used InstantImp.”

“Fuck. Tell me, did you anger the imp somehow? Did it say or do anything strange?”

You furrowed your brow, trying to recall. “The imp smelt my milk and asked for a drink as a tip…I told him I would report him…he…fuck. He muttered something in that demonic language of theirs and disappeared.”

Tyrus snorted with anger. “That little fucking Imp cast a spell on you. Their magic is supposed to be bound.” He sighed and pressed his snout to the top of your head. “Don’t worry. Until we figure this out, at least you will get to be the cutest cow I have ever seen.”

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Other Department of Monster Affairs works

Hello Neighbor - m!werewolf x f!reader, teratophilia, knotting, heat. One-shot.

Sex Therapist - m!Incubus x f!reader, hypnotism, dubious consent, teratophilia, blow jobs. Part 1.

For other works see my masterlist

[catslvrr]

hiding in plain sight

kim minji x fem!reader | one shot

Synopsis: Being stuck in an elevator is bad. Being stuck in an elevator with Minji, however, is very good.

Contains: mentions of drinking, cursing

Song: Glue Song — Beabadoobee, Clairo

You should’ve known that your laziness would come back to bite you in the ass one day.

“Alright,” Hanni huffs, readjusting her tote bag strap. “This is where we part ways.”

You shift weight onto your right foot to bump shoulders with her. “Are you sure? The offer still stands.”

“Very sure,” she laughs as she glances at the daunting stairs on the right. “Need these bad boys muscled up.”

Hanni attempts a bodybuilder pose to flaunt her calf muscles, but barely anything shows. It’s a sad display. Maybe she really does need it.

“Shame,” you sigh dejectedly. “I’ll convince you one day.”

Every day for two months. That’s how long Hanni has devoted herself to taking the stairs rather than the elevator. You’ve tried almost everything to convince her, from horror stories to bribery to threats.

“Hanni, just get in the fucking elevator,” you hiss, violently slamming on the ‘open doors’ button. It’s ten in the evening, both of you just got back from a grueling study session in the library, and you’re about to drop dead.

It’s just your luck that she’s your roommate. You forgot your keys to the apartment, and there is no way in hell that you’re waiting fifteen minutes for her to climb however many flights of stairs it takes to get to the room.

“Nuh-uh,” she sing-songs, performing a pirouette for absolutely no reason other than to rub salt in the wound. “It’s fun seeing you mad.”

You grit your teeth. “I will tell everyone that you were the one who killed Lucy.”

A gasp. “You wouldn’t!”

(It was a tragedy. Lucy was a dearly loved succulent who sat on a window sill at the end of the hallway. Every resident would visit Lucy from time to time, and there was even a Facebook page to upload pictures of Lucy and its growth.

On the fateful day, you and Hanni had just returned from a rowdy night out, and of course, both of you were a tad bit too drunk. You dared her to do a cartwheel and Lucy was unfortunately caught in the crossfire.

Somebody had posted a picture of Lucy, sprawled out on the carpet, pieces of the broken pot surrounding it. Word spread throughout the apartment and there was a solemn funeral held for Lucy. Justice was demanded but the true culprit was never found… because you were her alibi.)

“But I would,” you say with a smirk. At this point, you’re surprised the button isn’t broken yet. You’re also sorry for anyone else who’s waiting for the elevator on other floors.

“It was your fault in the first place!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve got video evidence.”

Hanni sags her shoulders in defeat. After a few seconds of thinking, she seems to perk up again.

“Tell them,” she declares defiantly. “It’s been months anyway. People deserve closure.”

She then marches toward the stairs. You hear the echoes of her stomping.

You see your confounded face in the reflection as the elevator doors close.

“Aren’t you the basketball player?” Hanni muses. “You should be jumping at the chance to get some cardio in.”

“I already went to the gym today,” you flex your bicep smugly and attempt a smoulder. “And I got practice later.”

“You look like a jackass,” she scoffs. “Don’t talk to me.”

She curtly turns and speedwalks to the stairs, the telltale sounds of heavy steps following soon after.

You reach for your headphones around your neck and belatedly realize that they’re missing. “Fuck!”

The steps stop. Hanni’s voice is booming down the stairwell. “What?”

“I think I left my headphones in class.”

Hanni spares you no sympathy and cackles as she continues up the stairs. “Loser!”

You groan and decide you’ll go and find it before practice later. You tap your foot impatiently as you wait for the elevator to arrive. It’s taking a bit longer than usual today. You take a few minutes to scroll on your phone for a bit before you hear a familiar ding.

The elevator doors open and you walk in, but as you turn around to press the button to your floor, you see a face you weren’t expecting to see.

“Minji?” You tilt your head as she steps inside.

Minji offers a small smile and an awkward wave.

If you remember correctly, she’s friends with Haerin, who’s your team’s mascot. It’s such a shame she didn’t try out for the team because her height is ideal for the sport. You already have Hyein as a center, but she could probably pass as a power forward if she trained for it.

You notice that Minji is wearing the bottom half of the bear mascot. “Is Haerin okay?”

“Yeah,” she scratches her cheek. “She’s feeling a bit under the weather so I’m taking over for tomorrow’s game. Figured I’d get some practice before then.”

You’re about to ask about how the practice went, but the way she slumps in exhaustion against the railing tells you everything. You take note of the glistening sweat on her neck and the strands of hair sticking to her skin. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat, but it gives her a faint glow that gets you bothered.

“Aren’t you hot?” You raise an eyebrow. “I tried that on once and I almost passed out after doing a backflip.”

Minji looks down at the bear costume and shakes her head hurriedly. “I’m almost home.”

“You’re fifth floor, right?”

A nod. You take her nonverbal response as a sign of discomfort, and so you stop your attempts at conversation.

There’s a few minutes of tense silence before a metallic screech pierces your ears. You both stumble as the elevator comes to an unexpected halt.

“What the fuck,” you say, squinting at the buttons and displays. You poke around for a bit before realizing that the elevator isn’t moving.

You turn around to check on Minji, but it doesn’t seem like she’s faring well. Her face is pale white and she’s tightly gripping onto the rails.

“Hey,” you take a small step toward her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she snaps her eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “Fine. Just a bit claustrophobic.”

You hesitantly place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze gently. “Just take your time and breathe, okay? I’ll contact emergency services.”

Minji nods again and sits down in the corner. You watch her worriedly before checking your phone. Of course, there’s no service. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You click on the bright red emergency services button, expecting static or a voice to sound out, but there’s nothing. You press again. And again. You push and hold it for five seconds.

“Don’t panic,” you flash Minji with an awkward grin. “But it’s not working.”

“Oh God,” she blanches, and understandably begins to panic. “We’re gonna die.”

She stands up, still in the mascot costume, and paces around the elevator. “We’re going to run out of oxygen. We’ll suffocate to death. We’ll run out of food and die of starvation. No, we’ll die of dehydration before that. What if I need to pee?”

The costume makes the passionate rant all the more comical. Her rambling continues as she wrings her hands together. “I think I need to pee. The anxiety’s getting to me.”

You grimace. “Please don’t talk about pissing. It’ll make me wanna piss too.”

Minji’s still aggressively muttering to herself in blind terror, so you stop her by grabbing her arm. “Hey, relax.”

That only seems to worsen her agitation as she yanks her body away from you, her face burning red as she almost elbows you in the face. She squeaks, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s okay,” you wave it off with a laugh and squeeze her hand. It’s soft. “You’re lucky you didn’t damage this pretty face.”

In this brief flustered state, Minji temporarily forgets about the panic and slides down to the floor like Jello. You squat down to meet her eye level. 

“Seriously though, it’ll be fine. The elevator has air vents so we’ll get enough circulation in here. And we’ll only be in here half an hour max. And about the pissing…” you trail off and take a quick peek at your duffle bag. “I have a bottle?”

Minji doesn’t reply, head in her hands. You make yourself comfortable and sit cross-legged opposite her.

“Will anyone notice you’re missing?”

“No,” she mumbles dejectedly.

Well, shit. Hanni probably thinks you’ve gone to find your headphones. “We might be here for more than an hour then.”

You clear your throat to break the awkward silence that ensues after. “How come I’ve never seen you around? We’re in the same year, right?”

“Our courses are in different buildings,” Minji says weakly. “My psych classes are far from the engineering buildings.”

“You already know what course I do?” You grin cheekily. “You must be a big fan.”

Minji hastily lifts her face, showcasing a burning blush. “No! I just… heard it from Haerin, that’s all.”

Your grin only widens. Like Haerin would ever talk about the team. She’s only there for the free post-game feeds. You choose to feign ignorance for her sake.

“You should take that off,” you suggest, noticing how Minji is uncomfortably squirming in the costume. “I’ll help with the zipper.”

“Okay,” Minji stammers, scrambling to get up on her feet.

You brush away some of her hair that’s covering the zipper and move it over her shoulder. Your fingers briefly brush over her neck, and all you can feel is how she’s burning hot. Minji almost imperceptibly shivers and jolts forward, choking on air. You pull the zipper down and watch with mirth as she clumsily wrestles out of the costume.

Minji stuffs it in her backpack and flops back down, hugging her backpack in her lap. You follow suit and sit a few inches away from her.

“Much better?”

She nods, still avoiding your gaze. You bite your cheek as you stare at her, trying to figure out a way to make conversation. You decide to fish your phone out of your pocket and pull up a recording of your last game, flashing her your screen as you pat the empty space next to you. “You wanna watch?”

Minji hesitates for a few seconds before shuffling closer. Her voice is small as she admits, “I was watching this game on the sidelines.”

You’re filled with a sense of pride at the news. But you also make a mental note to ponder on why you haven’t noticed her around before. “Really?”

“It’s not because of you or anything,” she adamantly denies, rubbing her nape, though you feel like her red cheeks contradict that.

“Anyone catch your eye?”

Her denial is half-hearted.

You pout teasingly. “Shame. I’ll play better next game.”

You save Minji from further embarrassment and press play. “You know how basketball works, right?”

“Each team has five players on the court… and the ball goes in the hoop?” Minji frowns.

“And?”

“And… you can’t run with the ball.”

“Basically,” you chuckle. “But there’s more to it.”

You rewind the video back to the beginning. “I hope you don’t mind me commentating.”

She shakes her head, and so you continue. “So this is one of the simplest plays in basketball: a pick and roll…”

You eventually finish the video and end up versing each other on the table hockey app on your phone. She’s surprisingly competitive and it’s endearing. You then somehow end up talking about card games, and you introduce her to the world of Inscryption through a gameplay video.

Halfway through the video, you feel a sudden weight on your shoulder. You crane your neck slightly and see Minji’s sleeping face. You smile and continue watching until you slowly drift off to sleep as well.

You’re both awoken with a sudden thud. Minji practically springs off of you and profusely apologizes, much to your amusement. You look up to see a firefighter opening the emergency escape hatch.

“You ladies alright?”

“Yes sir,” you drawl, checking your phone. “It’s just been two hours, no biggie.”

A ladder is dropped from the hatch and you both climb up, stretching your limbs as you stand on top of the elevator.

“This is so sick,” you pose as you take selfies. “I feel like I’m in some action movie.”

You tilt your phone to include Minji in the photos, and you laugh because she looks like she’s being held hostage.

The two of you are harnessed on some rope and pulled up by firefighters to safety. You’re shocked to see Haerin and Hanni there waiting. Hanni practically storms toward you and latches herself onto you like a koala, crying dramatically about your disappearance. You thank the firefighters as they pack up their equipment and begin to disperse.

“Hey Haerin,” you greet her with a strained voice, trying to peel Hanni off you. “You feeling better?”

“No,” she replies nasally. There’s a tissue stuffed in her right nostril. “But I’ll be there next game.”

You gift her with a slap on the back which earns you one in return, and you curse under your breath because she definitely hit you harder than you hit her. You ignore the stinging pain and swivel to meet Minji’s gaze that is already on you.

“Keep an eye on me next game?” You ask nonchalantly, but you must admit there’s a small part of you that twinges with hope. “I’ll play super duper good for you.”

Minji’s eyes widen in surprise before timidly answering with a stutter, “I will.”

“I’ll see you then!” You leave her with a side hug (where she awkwardly pats your back) before approaching Hanni. She gives you an eyebrow wiggle that you roll your eyes to in response. She is a hundred percent going to interrogate you at home. Both of you start the long climb to the apartment.

“Karma’s a bitch,” Hanni says obnoxiously. “That’s what you get for not taking the stairs.”

“Shut up JoJo Siwa,” you glower at her, but a lame grin graces your face when you remember your time spent with Minji. “I’d say it was a good thing.”

“Ew,” she gags. “Wipe that dopey smile off your face.”

You abruptly stop and grab Hanni’s arm. She turns around in confusion and sees your aghast expression. “What?”

“I missed practice. Yujin is gonna kill me.”

Tomorrow comes quicker than you expected, and you’re buzzing with nerves as you warm up on the sidelines. It’s not an important game, but your hands tremble a bit more today. You scan the court for a certain someone.

Danielle throws you a Gatorade. “Who are you looking for?”

“No one,” you blurt out a bit too quickly. You take a swig from the bottle to wash away your anxiety as you seat yourself on a bench.

“You sure?” Danielle quips with a knowing smile. “You’re shaking.”

You slam the bottle on the bench to shut down her jest. 

“Shouldn’t you be with Hyein?” You scowl as you shoo her away. “Go be a supportive friend and give her some encouraging words or something.”

Any lingering embarrassment flies out the window when you spot a big bear entering the building. You wave her over and laugh as she trips over someone’s stranded bag.

“Hi,” you smile.

You can barely hear Minji’s muffled voice through the head. “Hi.”

Your smile twitches as Hyein and Danielle appear behind Minji and start pulling childish faces. Your glare and subtle middle finger sends them away. “Wish me luck?”

The referee whistles as a signal for players to get on the court. Minji gives an awkward thumbs up, so you accept the fact that you have to initiate contact. You lean forward and kiss the stupid bear head. It’s a bit weird, but it’s worth it because you hear Minji’s breath hitch. 

She runs away promptly after. The game starts and you’ve never felt so motivated in your life.

The other team is irritatingly good at three-pointers, but your team’s size provides you with a solid advantage; you’re able to fight back through rebounding and shots inside the paint.

Your teammates are a bit puzzled at first when you keep hogging the ball and taking contested shots, but they’re not mad because you’re making them. The bewilderment quickly turns to disbelief when they realize you keep looking at the mascot after every shot.

“You’re so annoying,” Yujin grumbles during the half-time break. “This is not High School Musical.”

“Stop complaining, grandma.” You can feel your muscles ache from the overexertion, but the goal of impressing Minji takes priority. “We’re up by 20.”

“I think it’s cute!” Hyein interjects with an encouraging pinch of your cheek. “I can’t see Minji’s face but I bet she’s in love.”

Everyone turns as they hear a loud smack that resonates throughout the building. Minji’s sprawled on the floor after a failed backflip.

“She’s so cute,” you giggle, disregarding your teammate’s exasperated groans and mock punches.

The rest of the game is a breeze, but there are a few frustrating turnovers here and there that shorten the lead to nine when the final whistle blows.

You slither away from the team huddle and plop yourself down next to Minji. She’s gulping down water at a scarily excessive pace. You wait for her as she squeezes every last drop from the bottle and lets out a big wheeze afterwards.

“Tired?”

Minji nods and gratefully accepts the towel. You admire her as she wipes sweat off her neck and face.

“So,” you chirp. “How was the game?”

“You did really well,” she admits meekly.

Your chest puffs up at the praise. “So you’ll be watching from the front row for all my games from now on? I wanna see you.”

Minji’s taken aback by your forwardness, but nods shyly.

You’re still bouncing with adrenaline. “Did you see that and-one layup I made? And the no-look pass? And the—”

You stop rambling as you realize Minji’s not responding and spacing out. More specifically, spacing out and staring at your lips.

“Kiss me,” you say.

Minji literally jumps on the spot and almost screams, “What?”

“Kiss me,” you say again simply. “You want to and I want to. What’s stopping you?”

She audibly gulps and averts her gaze to hide her dilated pupils. “No, I was just distracted by something else, really…”

You roll your eyes and tug on the collar of the mascot costume to pull her in for a kiss. You feel her whole body stiffen and she makes a strangled noise, but then she melts and kisses you back for a few seconds before you pull away.

“Your lips are soft,” you smile casually, but you can feel the hammering of your heart.

“Thanks,” Minji’s voice wavers. “You too.”

“I like you,” you continue. “We should go on a date.”

“Really?” She stumbles over her words, still slightly dazed. “Are you sure?”

You hum in affirmation.

“Okay,” she squeaks.

“Okay,” you repeat with a smile. You stand up and take her hand to pull her up as well. “Let’s go eat. The team is probably waiting for us outside.”

“Wait!” She yanks you back. “Let me get out of this costume first…”

“Do you need help with the zipper again?”

“…Yes please.”

Dedicated to user rosiehrs... hope this minji was 'loser' enough for you

[growthhyp]

Hello! Just wondering if the garage sale might have maybe a tape measure? Not that there's anything much to measure, except maybe around the midsection (haha) but I was told measuring regularly would be good for tracking progress at the gym.

The Measuring Tape

As you stroll down the quiet suburban street, the vibrant chirps of birds and rustling leaves serve as the morning's soundtrack. You spot the garage sale, a beacon of hope amidst the mundane. Your eyes light up, not for the potential bargains, but for the Adonis-like figure standing guard over the assorted knick-knacks and forgotten treasures. The muscular man's physique is a stark contrast to your own lanky frame, a silent testament to the hours of sweat and toil he must've invested at the gym.

You've been religiously adhering to your New Year's resolution for the past two weeks, pumping iron and pushing your limits, but your body seems to be playing a cruel trick on you, refusing to budge from its familiar skinny confines. The sight of the garage sale is a serendipitous gift, an opportunity to seek guidance from someone who's clearly mastered the art of sculpting their body. As you approach, the muscular man's eyes meet yours, and you feel a sudden wave of self-consciousness, your hand instinctively reaching to cover the slight bulge of your belly.

Without missing a beat, you spill out your frustrations to this stranger, the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess of insecurities and hope. The muscular man nods in understanding, his eyes never leaving yours, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. He reaches behind the counter and pulls out a dusty, slightly bent measuring tape. "This might help," he says, his voice a smooth rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. "It's all about tracking your progress. You wouldn't believe how motivating it can be to see those numbers change."

You take the tape from him, your fingertips brushing against his, and you can't help but feel a spark of something electric. He winks, and you blush, feeling both embarrassed and thrilled by his gesture. "Take it," he urges. "It's only a dollar. It's practically a steal." You fish out a crumpled bill from your pocket and exchange it for the tape, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as you do so. It's as if he's peering into your very soul, seeing the raw desire to transform into something more.

Once home, you strip down to your red shorts, eager to begin this new ritual. The notebook lies open on the bed, the pencil poised and ready to record every inch of progress. You start with your weight, stepping onto the scale with a deep breath. The needle wobbles before settling at 120 lbs. You scribble it down, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. Then, you move to your height – a solid 5'9", not too shabby. But as you wrap the tape around your chest and arms, you can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at the initial measurements. 36 inches for your chest, 12 inches for your biceps – it's clear you have a long way to go.

You continue measuring, each number etched into your notebook with a mix of excitement and determination. Your waist is a slim 28 inches, your legs a lean 29. But it's when you get to your neck and calves that the tape seems to tighten around your skin, revealing the beginnings of what might be considered 'gains'. 12 inches around the neck, 13 inches around each calf – not bad for a newbie. And then there's your cock – a modest 4 inches in length and 3 in girth – something you've always been a little self-conscious about, but maybe with the same dedication, you could see some growth there too.

The measuring process becomes almost ritualistic, a sacred pact you make with yourself every week. You document your stats with a fervor usually reserved for a gym enthusiast's workout log, the numbers whispering sweet nothings of potential into your ear. Each day at the gym, you push a little harder, lift a little more, all with the image of the muscular man's nod of approval in your mind's eye.

Six weeks, you've given yourself. Six weeks to carve out the body you've always desired. The first few days are a blur of pain and sweat, your muscles screaming in protest at the unaccustomed exertion. But with each ache and burn, you feel yourself inching closer to your goal.

Week 1 passes, and you eagerly strip down to compare the new you with the old. The scale reads 130 lbs, a solid 10 pounds heavier, and you feel it in your muscles, which seem to have swelled with a newfound life. You stand a proud 5'10", having gained an inch in height, and your body fat percentage has dropped to 12%. The measuring tape confirms your suspicion – your cock has indeed lengthened to 5 inches, and thickened slightly to a girth of 4 inches.

As you flex your biceps, you're thrilled to see they've bulked up to 14 inches around. The veins in your arms are more pronounced now, a sign of the hard work you've been putting in. Your chest has ballooned to 38 inches, filling out your shirts nicely, and your calves have gone from 13 to 14.5 inches. Your legs have filled out too, now a solid 30 inches around. The waist remains at 28 inches, a testament to your discipline in keeping the fat at bay. The neck measurement surprises you the most – a full inch thicker at 13 inches. It's a powerful look that screams 'alpha male'.

Your confidence is soaring, and it's not just in the gym. You've noticed that you're holding yourself differently – shoulders back, chest out, and chin up. You've started to command attention when you enter a room, and it's not just because you're taller. It's like the extra muscle has pumped life into your very essence, turning you into someone who can't be ignored. You catch yourself staring at your reflection in every mirror, admiring the way your newfound muscles ripple and dance in the light.

And the jerking off…it's become something of an obsession. Every night, after a grueling session at the gym, you can't wait to get home and let your hand do the work your exhausted muscles can't. The sensations are more intense than ever before, and you've discovered that you have a knack for edging – bringing yourself to the brink of climax, then pulling back, only to repeat the process over and over again. It's a sweet torment that leaves you gasping and your cock begging for release. Sometimes, when you're feeling particularly wild, you'll sneak into the gym's shower and let yourself go, the hot water cascading over your shoulders as you stroke your now 6-inch length to a powerful orgasm.

Two weeks have passed, and you find yourself back in front of the mirror with the measuring tape. The numbers are in, and they're nothing short of astonishing. You've packed on another 30 pounds, shooting up to 160 lbs. You've grown another inch, now standing tall at 5'11". Your body fat has dropped to a lean 10%, making every muscle pop out in sharp relief. Your chest has blossomed to a massive 40 inches, your biceps are thick slabs of meat at 16 inches around. Your calves have bulged to 15 inches, and your legs are now a sturdy 31 inches of pure power. And your neck? It's a thick, unyielding column of muscle at 14 inches.

But it's the last two measurements that really get your heart racing. Your cock has grown to a proud 6 inches in length and a hefty 5 inches around. The girth is what really gets you – the way it fills your hand, the weight of it hanging between your legs. It's not just the size, though – it's the feeling of power and virility that comes with it. You can't help but stroke it, feeling the newfound sensitivity that seems to come with every workout. It's as if your entire body is waking up to new possibilities, and your libido has gone through the roof.

You've started to feel an insatiable hunger, not just for food, but for attention. You strut around the gym, flexing in the mirrors, watching the other guys steal glances at your bulging biceps and thickened neck. You've even started to catch the eyes of some of the girls who frequent the place, their gazes lingering just a bit longer than before. It's intoxicating, this newfound allure, and you find yourself craving the gym more and more, not just for the gains, but for the way you feel when you're there – powerful, desired, and in control.

Week 3 rolls around, and you're eager to see what the tape has to say. You've been pushing yourself to the limit, your workouts now a blur of pain and pleasure. You're up to 180 lbs, a full 60 pounds heavier than when you started. You've shot up another inch to 6'1", towering over many of the people you used to look up to. Your body fat has plummeted to a mere 8%, leaving every muscle stark and defined. The numbers on your notebook's pages are a testament to your transformation – 42 inches around the chest, 18 inches for your biceps, and a neck that's thickened to a formidable 15 inches.

But it's your legs that really get you going now. They've gone from twigs to tree trunks, each one a monument to your dedication. Your waist is still a respectable 30 inches, but your cock has outdone itself – now a stunning 7 inches in length and a thick 6 in girth. It's a weapon of pleasure that you can't help but admire in the mirror, your hand almost trembling as you wrap the tape around it. The sight of your swollen package sends a bolt of excitement straight to your core, and you realize that you're not just getting more attractive – you're becoming a beast in every sense of the word.

You've started to notice changes in your appetites, too. Your hunger for food is insatiable, your fridge groaning under the weight of protein shakes and chicken breasts. But it's not just food that fuels your desires. Your thoughts are consumed by sex, the need to claim and conquer. It's a primal instinct that's been awakened. You've found someone who appreciates the new you, a gym buddy who's more than happy to help you burn off some steam. You've been hooking up after your workouts, sweat-drenched and pumped full of endorphins, pushing each other's bodies to the limit in a different kind of workout.

Your voice has transformed into a velvety bass that seems to resonate with every word you speak. You command the room when you speak, your words carrying an authority that wasn't there before. It's intoxicating, the way people hang on your every word, eager to catch a glimpse of the new you.

Week 4 has come, and with it, a new set of measurements. You're now a hulking 200 lbs of solid muscle, the kind that makes other guys at the gym look like they're playing dress-up. Your height has stretched to a towering 6'2", and your body fat has dropped to a minuscule 6%. You flex in the mirror, watching your chest balloon to an unbelievable 44 inches, your biceps swelling to a ludicrous 19 inches around. Your waist has filled out to 30, not with flab, but with the kind of muscle that makes your abs look like they've been chiseled from marble. Your legs have become a pair of sculpted pillars, each one a work of art at 33 inches around. And your neck? It's a thick, powerful 16 inches that screams 'don't fuck with me'.

But it's not just your body that's transformed. Your cock has become a thing of legend among those who've seen it – 8 inches of throbbing power, with a girth that could make a pornstar weep. It hangs heavy between your legs, a constant reminder of your newfound masculinity. You've started to enjoy the way people look at you now – the awe, the envy, the lust. It's a drug, and you're addicted. You spend hours at the gym, not just working out, but parading your body for all to see. You've become the poster boy for physical perfection, and everyone wants a piece of you.

Your experiments in the locker room have become more frequent and more daring. You've discovered that with great size comes great opportunity. You've had your pick of the gym's most attractive members, each one eager to feel your newfound girth inside them. The whispers and glances have turned into outright propositions, and you've found that saying 'yes' to every offer has only made you crave more. You've become a sexual god, and the altar is wherever you happen to be at the moment.

The echo of your deep, commanding voice reverberates off the cold tiles, sending a shiver down the spine of anyone within earshot. It's a sound that demands attention, a siren's call that no one can ignore. You've noticed that people listen to you more, your opinions hold more weight, and when you speak, everyone seems to lean in, as if eager to soak up the very essence of your power.

Week 5. The moment of truth has arrived, and with it, the promise of unbridled growth. You stand before the full-length mirror in your gym, the chilly air causing the hairs on your chiseled body to stand on end. You're a monolith of muscle, a testament to your unyielding dedication. The scale groans under your weight, the needle settling at a staggering 300 lbs. You're not just fit; you're a force of nature. The measuring tape stretches and constricts around your Herculean form, each number whispering sweet nothings of triumph into your eager ears.

Your height has shot up to 6'6", making you the giant in every room you enter. Your body fat is a mere 3%, so low that it's practically non-existent. Every inch of you is pure, unadulterated power. Your chest has ballooned to an astounding 50 inches, a monument to your relentless bench pressing. Your biceps are now a ludicrous 22 inches around, bulging like boulders beneath your skin. Your calves are a marvel at 17.5 inches, each flex a silent declaration of your lower body's might. And your waist, a tight 31 inches, is the envy of every man and woman who dares to look your way.

But it's your cock that truly sets you apart. 12 inches long and a staggering 9 inches in girth, it's a beast that could make even the most experienced adult film star quake with trepidation. The mere sight of it has become the stuff of legend among the gym rats and the whispers of the regulars. It's not just the size that's changed; the way it feels is different too. The veins pulse with a newfound vitality, and the head is now a dark, swollen cap that demands attention. The feeling of power it brings is intoxicating, turning every encounter into a conquest waiting to happen.

As you flex in the mirror, the muscles in your neck and jawline ripple, a sign of the testosterone coursing through your body. Your deep laugh fills the room, the sound of it echoing with a newfound authority that sends a shiver down the spine of anyone nearby. You've become the embodiment of lust and desire, and the gym has become your playground. Your eyes scan the room, seeking out the next challenge, the next willing participant in your quest for physical dominance.

The whispers of the other gym-goers reach your ears, a symphony of envy and admiration. You revel in it, knowing that every pair of eyes on you is a silent affirmation of your power. You've started to crave the hunt, the thrill of the chase that comes with being the biggest, baddest wolf in the pack. And oh, the places you've been. The locker room, the sauna, even the benches outside – you've left your mark on every inch of the gym, each encounter more intense than the last.

You've become a legend, the kind of guy that newbies whisper about in awe. The kind of guy who could bend steel bars with his bare hands if he wanted to. The kind of guy who could make anyone – man or woman – beg for mercy. You've learned to wield your new body like a weapon, and the effect it has on people is undeniable. You've had flings with the most popular girls in the gym, leaving them breathless and trembling with every thrust of your massive cock. You've also found that some of the guys have started eyeing you with a mix of admiration and something else – something you're more than willing to explore if they can handle it.

Week 6, and you're eager to see just how much more you can grow. You stand before the mirror, the cold light of day caressing your colossal form. The numbers on your notebook read like a fantasy come to life – 320 lbs of pure, unbridled power. You've shot up to a towering 6'8", making even the basketball players look up to you. Your body fat is a minuscule 2%, so low that it's practically invisible. Your cock has reached a mind-boggling 15 inches in length and a monstrous 11 inches in girth – a beast that could make even the most seasoned pornstar quiver in fear.

You flex your chest in the mirror, watching the muscles swell to an unbelievable 55 inches around. Your biceps are now a ludicrous 25 inches of bulging, veiny steel. Your calves have ballooned to 18.5 inches, each flex a testament to your tireless work ethic. Your waist has remained a tight 32 inches, a stark contrast to your massive thighs, now a staggering 39 inches around each. And your neck – oh, your neck – it's a thick, unyielding 21 inches that could crush a watermelon between your colossal traps. And your feet – a size 17 now – have grown to accommodate your newfound bulk, the very ground seeming to tremble with each thunderous step.

Your cock has become the stuff of myths, a 15-inch monster with a 10-inch girth that would make even the most seasoned porn star quake with fear. It hangs heavily between your legs, a constant reminder of the power you wield. The locker room whispers have turned into full-blown conversations about the legend of your size and stamina. You've become the gym's resident Casanova, the man everyone wants a piece of – and you're more than happy to oblige.

As you strut through the gym, your voice booms with a deep bass that could rival the sound system. It's a sound that commands attention, and everyone seems to hang on your every word. You can't help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all, your teeth gleaming in the fluorescent lights as you flex your 28-inch biceps. The veins in your arms pop like a roadmap to pleasure, a stark contrast to the lean, veiny forearms that had once been your only source of pride.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and can't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards that muscular man at the garage sale. His simple advice had sparked a transformation so profound it was almost unbelievable. The measuring tape had become a symbol of your growth. Each week, as you measured your progress, you felt a newfound respect for your body and the power it now wielded.

[myster-roca]

La Pelle del Diavolo: A Halloween Special

The night air in the hills of Tuscany was thick with the scent of earth and wild herbs, but a chill crept through the wind, slipping from the shadows cast by ancient oaks around the estate. Marco Romano, a seasoned thief, felt the familiar prickle of excitement as he approached the villa.

Dark whispers and superstitions tugged at the edges of his thoughts, but he pushed them aside. Danger was an old friend, and tonight, it had led him to the mysterious Villa Tenebra.

The locals had spoken of the villa’s hidden treasure in hushed tones over dark wine, only daring to mention it in shadowed corners of Florence’s oldest bars. It was a relic of myth, known as the Corpus Noctem, the key to immortal life. Marco had dismissed it as folklore at first, but the lure of such power was impossible to resist.

He had slipped into Villa Tenebra with the help of a map from a cryptic dealer in Florence—a strange man eager to be rid of it. The map was faded and worn, but it revealed something extraordinary: an old smugglers’ passage hidden in the villa’s foundations, built centuries ago to let noblemen move treasures in and out undetected.

The entrance to the passage lay hidden behind a statue in the villa’s overgrown gardens, its base concealing a narrow stone door. With a grunt, Marco pushed it open, revealing a winding staircase descending into the earth. The air was cool and damp, and each step echoed, punctuating the silence with a heavy, ominous beat.

At the bottom, the passage twisted into a dimly lit stone hallway. Shadows flickered on the walls, worn smooth by years of forgotten footsteps. Marco moved forward, his senses sharp, adrenaline building. The air was thick, carrying an old, metallic scent, as though it held memories of things long past.

A few meters down, he found himself in a corridor and saw something he had never encountered—a perfectly sculpted muscle suit that looked like leather, coated in wax, and painted red. The closer he got, the more he felt an odd pull, a magnetic force that made his skin tingle and his pulse intensify.

The suit looked like leather but felt too smooth, too alive. It beckoned to him.

“This is it. The Corpus Noctem. The Flesh of the Night,” he whispered, his voice thick with greed. “The key to youth and eternal life.”

His fingers hovered over the material, and as soon as he touched it, a rush of heat surged through him, like electricity flooding his veins. His fingertips tingled as he traced its sculpted lines. The sensation was intoxicating, almost erotic. His breath quickened, and an unfamiliar hunger stirred deep within him.

With the suit clutched in his arms, he moved quickly down the hall, rounding a corner, his breathing quickening as he felt its warmth intensify. The heat from the suit seemed to throb, mirroring his own pulse, sending waves of anticipation rippling through him.

He knew he couldn’t wait any longer—he needed it on his body, needed to feel it enveloping him.

Setting the suit down, he hurriedly removed his clothes, pulling off his sleek, dark outfit and kicking off his boots. His legs trembled as he reached for the red muscle suit once more, pressing himself against it and feeling heat spread through his body.

He removed his pants, standing completely naked before the suit, savoring the rich red sheen of the leather.

Without hesitation, he began to put it on. The moment it touched his skin, a wave of pleasure and power flooded his senses.

As he slid the suit further up his leg, he felt an incredible tightness around his calf, a strange, thrilling tension as though the suit were pulling at his muscles. And then, to his astonishment, he felt his calf muscle expand, swelling against the material as though infused with newfound strength.

He continued, slipping his other leg in, feeling the suit tighten around his thighs. The same sensation of growth surged through him, his quads and hamstrings expanding, hardening, becoming thicker, stronger.

Marco’s hands trembled as he pulled the suit up over his hips, feeling the snug embrace of the material. He slipped his arms into the sleeves, and as the suit enveloped his torso, a wave of heat exploded through his chest and back.

He watched in awe as his pecs rose, filling out, becoming solid and powerful, each muscle now perfectly defined. His shoulders broadened, the suit tightening around them, forcing them to grow, to harden, until they were as strong as stone.

His arousal surged as he ran his hands down to the calves and then up to the chest, pressing his palm against the sculpted abdomen. It felt perfect—hard, tight, like a muscular man was inside.

Eyes closed, he traced his hands over the biceps and around to the triceps, savoring every sensation.

“You shouldn’t have touched that.”

The thief spun around. An old man stood in the hallway, his silver hair gleaming in the dim light. On his right hand, a tarnished silver ring caught the faint glow, intricate symbols etched into its surface.

His eyes, sharp and full of something the thief couldn’t quite place, bore into him. The air between them crackled with tension.

“This is your treasure, old man?” the thief sneered, masking the tremor in his voice.

The old man stepped forward, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Treasure? No… it’s a curse. You should strip it off and leave while you still can. That suit… The Corpus Noctem… was never meant to be worn by anyone who values their soul.”

The thief chuckled darkly, reveling in the waves of pleasure and power coursing through him as the suit clung tighter, molding to his body like a second skin. “You’re just trying to scare me. It’s mine now.”

But then, something shifted. The warmth he’d felt before began to change, becoming suffocating, as though the suit itself was tightening around him, digging deeper into his flesh.

The initial rush of pleasure twisted into something unbearable, a heat that clawed at him from within.

His chest heaved as panic seized him. “What… what is happening?”

The old man’s gaze was steely, his voice soft yet filled with grim satisfaction. “You wanted to own the suit, to wield its power. But now, it owns you.”

The thief’s hands flew to the suit, trying to rip it off, but the material wouldn’t budge. Panic clawed at him as he realized the truth—this wasn’t just a myth or legend. This was real, and he had fallen for its trap.

“The suit was crafted centuries ago,” the old man continued, his voice soft yet laden with dark knowledge. “A coven of sorcerers, desperate for immortality, summoned an ancient demon—the Harrower of Flesh—who bound its essence into the hollow skin of a man, creating the Corpus Noctem. Whoever wore it would gain eternal youth and beauty, but at a cost: for each year they lived, they’d need to drain another’s essence, leaving behind a lifeless skinsuit. To bypass this, the wearer must cloak themselves in the flesh of another soul—only by donning this skin over the Corpus Noctem can one remain whole.”

The thief’s vision blurred as the suit constricted around him, merging deeper into his skin. His body tingled with a sensation that was equal parts pleasure and terror. It felt as if the suit were feeding on him, consuming his very essence.

The old man’s frail form shifted, and with deliberate slowness, he raised his hands to his face. He pulled it off, revealing a lifelike mask, and beneath it, a strikingly youthful, handsome face emerged—features sharp, jawline strong, eyes dark and piercing. Smirking, he removed his clothes piece by piece, casting off the disguise of age.

As the last layer fell, the old, fragile illusion was gone, replaced by a chiseled, muscular figure that looked as if it had been carved from marble. His back straightened, shoulders broad, and every inch of him radiated a powerful, youthful energy.

“You see, I was once like you,” the man said, his voice now rich and powerful. “I, too, was lured by the suit’s promises. But unlike you, I learned its secrets and made it my own. I’ve lived for centuries, wearing this skin, draining life from those foolish enough to fall into its grasp.”

The thief stumbled back, his body no longer his own. The suit tightened again, and he felt his skin loosen, as if separating from his bones, becoming pliable and empty. He was now little more than an outer shell waiting to be filled.

“You’ll be perfect,” the man murmured with a predatory smile. “I’ve been needing a new face. And your body… it will serve me well.”

The man reached down, his fingers trailing over the thief’s hollowed form, savoring the warmth and fresh pliability. He lifted the emptied skin carefully, feeling its readiness to be inhabited. Pausing, he slid a tarnished silver ring from his finger and set it gently on the floor beside him, a faint smile crossing his lips, as if the gesture held private, ritualistic meaning.

With a sigh of satisfaction, he began donning the suit, the thief’s former identity slipping over him like a glove. The skin conformed to him, tightening and sealing with a sensation that sent shivers through him—a seductive merging of flesh and power.

He ran his hands over his new form, relishing the strength beneath his fingers. This body was everything he’d hoped for—youthful, strong, and ready to endure another century. He reached down, rubbing his hands over Marco's abs, feeling the muscles tense beneath his touch. His hands drifted lower, gripping Marco's cock, heat radiating from it. Wrapping his hand around the shaft, he began to stroke.

“Do you like it?” he asked himself with a smile.

He began to laugh as he continued stroking, feeling Marco grow harder. On the verge of climax, he still sensed remnants of Marco's essence, and his smile grew even wider. Reaching up, he massaged his new face.

But he wasn’t done. He turned to the Corpus Noctem, lying on the floor like a crimson shadow. With practiced ease, he slipped it on, layer by layer, feeling it fuse with his stolen body, amplifying his strength, fortifying every fiber. The suit melded seamlessly, completing his transformation.

Reaching down, he retrieved the silver ring from the floor and slid it back onto his finger, a final touch that signified the bond. He looked into the grand mirror, admiring the flawless reflection. Turning sharply, he traced a hand along his new jawline, savoring the unfamiliar yet perfectly familiar contours. The face of a man he had consumed, a youth he had stolen, now belonged to him entirely.

With a slow exhale, he ran his hands over his abs, savoring each hard, sculpted ridge beneath his fingertips. The suit hugged every contour perfectly, every muscle honed, every line exact.

“Magnificent,” he whispered, his voice low with satisfaction, echoing through the empty hall like a dark promise. Only his faint laughter remained, drifting through Villa Tenebra’s silent halls, waiting for the next soul to fall prey to the Corpus Noctem.

--- ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ---

Would you like to expand this dark universe? Follow me to explore more content and updates: https://linktr.ee/mysteroca

[quilly72]

Sophie zipped up her running jacket as she sprinted out of her house to the car. Her keys jiggling as she struggled to unlock the door. Finally managing to click the button and thrust the door open. She usually wasn't in this much of a hurry but her boyfriend had the dorm room to himself and these moments were few and far between.

Way too far apart. Her engine rumbled to life as she started reversing out of the parking space as soon as the seat belt latched her into place. Her body was already vibrating in anticipation. Her panties already wet and ready to be flung off. It had been forever and she was especially horny this time around.

Her small car forged it's way thru the side streets trying to make a 15 min trip in 5 wasn't easy. Sophie focused as she felt her body vibrate again. Her breath already picking up its pace. Oh my god I'm sooo horny already She mumbled to herself as someone cut her off at the light. Her face turning red with emotion as her breathing bobbed her chest up and down. Sophie tried to calm herself down as one of her hands slithered down into her yoga pants.

Fuck I need to release some of this steam. The light in front of her was red and she had a quick second. Soon her fingers found their way as they started to stroke and massage herself.

Her moan pierced thru her as her leg spasmed. Her foot jutting down into the brake pedal as her body yearned for more.

Fuck fuck fuck I think I just made it worse. Her body was furiously vibrating her now. She couldn't sit still her legs twitching her core getting warmer and warmer. Moans softly escaping her in anticipation.

Sophie eyes rolled back as she let out a small orgasm Fuck oh thank go.. Her breath cut off as her chest suddenly lurched and groaned. Her eyes dragging down as her breasts pulled her zipper taught and pushed into the seat belt.

What the fuck did my boobs just gro...

Her voice cut off again as her body rumbled a second time. Her zipper bursting open as her boobs dragged forward. Digging into her sports bra as they struggled to contain her. Meanwhile as the light turned green she felt her feet push harder than anticipated into the accelerator lurching forward from the light as her head bobbed up an inch. She couldn't see out of her mirrors anymore. Her clothes were tight her seat was off fuck I am growing what is fucking happening oh god wait nooo...

Her body ebbed with sexual frustration as she felt her body pulse bigger. Her hair brushing the felt roof as her legs twitched and jutted longer. Her yoga pants slithering up to her mid calf as her knees bent into the dash. Her foot forced further into the amgas as the car jumped forward. Sophie struggled to contain the car as she tried to move her leg but it was pinned. Barely managing to avoid an accident as she sped down the line. Her other leg managed to squeeze down on the brake as she changed her seat back.

Another growth spurt causing her foot to slam it to the floor the car abruptly stopping in the middle of the road.

Honks and squeezing of tires as traffic tried to avoid her. Sophie tried to get off the road as her body rumbled again

Fuck... Me...

Her body raced up. Her head careening into the roof. Her legs left with nowhere to go folded over the sides of the console. Her feet pinned to the bottom of the floor under the dash. Her seat belt dragged into her skin as her boobs finally burst her jacket open now more of a crop top. Her yoga pants splitting behind her and into the seat as the seams tore down her ass.

The cars behind her kept honking as Sophie tried to adjust the seat

If I can't just get out of the car I can figure..this..oh goOOD nOoooO.

Her seat flung back as her body convulse and grew again. Her back and head falling into the back seats as her legs sprawled out. Her jacket bra and pants gathered around her growing body as her seatbelt finally gave out as the latch snapped in half.her hair drowned her face as she tried to open the back door and crawl out.

As she contorted her body another spasm hit her.

Sophie screamed as her head raced up the back seat and back into the rear windows. Her legs stretched and braced against the windshield as the airbags popped off after her butt broke the dash. Her seat folding and crumbling under her. The car groaned as the suspension started to max out and her body filled its cabin the frame of the car bending and breaking inch by inch.

A knock was heard at the windows. As someone tried to open the door for her. Another scream from Inside as the back windows cracked.then the windshield. I side Sophie crammed for space.

Her own body pressing up against herself and the frame of the car. Smothered airbags and glass choked her as she was pinned to the roof floor and frame of the car. Her feet pushed against the glass as she tried to kick it out. The entire car shaking as she moaned and gasped. Her panties having flung to the ground long ago now left her shivering and shaking in a cold sweat. She bit her lip as she tried to hold back another wave. Her eyes wide with fear as the pleasure forced its way to her throat audibilizing itself as she grew again.

Her body found freedom as broke thru the glass. Her head breaking thru right after her legs toppled over the hood. The car malforming to the massive weight and pressure of her body inside. One tire blew then another then the rest. The passerby screaming and running as a giant head was now seen orgasming and moaning after it broke thru a car.

Sophie tried to call for help from the few who stood in stunned silence but it was too late.

Another gasp took the car and finally snapped it. Her body breaking free as loose metal glass and plastic malformed it's way around her hips and cut into her. Her back scraped against the asphalt as her legs dragged onto the street. She took up a lane and half lying on the ground.

Sophie tried to catch her breath she felt like she had been forced to orgasm atleast 8 times. Her legs couldn't stop shaking. She couldn't catch her breath and she was still going. Her body yearned for more. She had to use everything she had to try and not immediately orgasm right after the first. She couldn't control herself her moans and screams causing her to convulse her eyes and body to twitch. Her mouth to scream in ecstacy.

She broke again as she tried to stand up. Her body manging to get to all 4s as she lurched across the street. Her feet dragging into the asphalt and digging it up as they banged into a car. Her head bobbed into a street lamp as it sparked and toppled over.

Sophie couldn't believe her eyes as the cars and people looked like models to her. She yelped again as she continued to surge again again again. Her feet smashing and causing a car to skid off the road and into the sidewalk. Her feet contorting the driver side door shut as the frame molded around her.

Her amr buckled as her back and head lurched up into the sky her head above the lights and half the houses in the surrounding neighborhood.

Another moan of ecstacy sent her legs puledriving into the neighborhood. Sounds of brick and mold falling and crumbling to the ground. A passerby who was stuck in fear fell under her hips and disappeared under her thighs as she expanded over both side of the street. Sophie looked at the destruction around her as her vision tunneled she couldn't take anymore she was gon a pass out if she orgasmed again. Her voice weak and frail as she tried to gold it back the heat building up before she collapsed to the street. Blacking out as her body slammed to the streets Shockwave spilling out across the ground as the ground quaked

...

Sophie winced as she felt the soreness creek over her body. The sound of thunderous rumbling quaked over the landscape. Sophie winced open her eyes as the sun poured in unimpeeded.

It took a while for her to get used to her surrounding as her body creaked and groaned again. As she looked around Sophie realized her legs were draping off the edge of the horizon. The mountains and hills dragged underneath her as she smoothed out the ground below her new gigantic body as she witnessed herself start to outgrow the state.

[sebadztian]

Yet another proof of Sebastian's character growth. And I will not shut up about this subject because that demon went through so much character development in the span of 8-9 months.

The demon went from this...

To this...

I've been wanting to talk about this for a while.

In the curry arc, as you can see above, Sebastian talked about how nobody would serve another without a reward. His very contract with Ciel is the example of this. At the end of the contract, he will be rewarded with Ciel's soul. He wouldn't have served Ciel so faithfully without that.

But in Green Witch arc, he got down to his knees and offered his service to Sieglinde. What was his reward?

Ciel's recovery.

Now, when Ciel was reduced to that state, Sebastian wasn't obligated to continue to serve him. I'm not a demon, but even I could see the gaping loophole in the size of black hole that he could've taken advantage of. He could've taken Ciel's soul right there and right then.

But what has stopped him?

2 things:

1. His aesthetics

2. His growing care for both Ciel and his role.

What would he get from offering his service to Sieglinde? Nothing!

Not for himself, anyway...

He didn't offer his service for free. But for once, the reward is not his own. He offered his service in exchange for Ciel's well-being.

This is the very panel that goes against those who said that Sebastian hated Ciel and only saw him as a meal.

If Ciel was just a meal for him, why would he lower himself to serve another without gaining anything for himself? Why would he make a deal with Sieglinde? Even a three years old knows that nobody would enter a deal with another without a reward.

But this time, he's not doing it for himself. He did it for his young master. So, for those who said that Sebastian was a selfish bastard, you're right.

He's still selfish. That's his nature. Selfishness and arrogance are Sebastian's greatest character flaws. He liked this game so much, he wanted to keep playing butler, which is kinda weird, but hey, I won't judge. Ciel's calf and the sex must be worth it.

However, you're also wrong to say that he's still the same self-serving bastard who made a contract with Ciel three years ago. He's gone from thinking only about himself to willing to lower himself for his young master's sake.

[cypherdecypher]

Animal of the Day!

Dugong (Dugong dugon)

(Photo by Smithsonian Ocean)

Conservation Status- Critically Endangered

Habitat- Indo-West Pacific Ocean

Size (Weight/Length)- 250 kg; 4 m 

Diet- Seagrasses

Cool Facts- Although related to manatees, the dugong is the only living member of the Dugongidae family. Dugongs are shy and only group together on rare occasions during mass seagrass growth. During these gatherings, the water is filled with clicks and whistles as they communicate. Due to poor eyesight, only touch and sound keeps these animals socially connected. Dugongs have one of the longest periods to reach sexual maturity of any mammal, ranging up to 18 years before they can have offspring. Females only have a single calf every five years or so. The calf will stay with its mom up to three years before splitting off to find its own underwater meadow. Sadly, due to their slow movement and tendency to swim along the ocean surface, dugongs are easy targets for poaching and tangling plastics. Hopefully, other countries will follow Australia’s lead and create marine sanctuaries to protect these amazing animals.

Rating- 13/10 (Don’t let them go the way of the Steller’s sea cow.)

Requested by @callmepyrus

[etesienne]

"Beauty seekers who aspire for a pair of “manga legs” or “chopstick legs”—thin, long, and white gams as straight as chopsticks, like a manga character—“calf-muscle blocking surgery” has become trendy. The procedure removes some nerves on gastrocnemius muscle in order to slow its growth, leading to slimmer calves.

Compared with procedures like Botox, which require regular shots, calf surgery is lauded by online influencers as a "simple" one-time process to get rid of several “unimportant” and “rarely used” nerves with lasting effect, and allegedly no side effects. A hashtag related to the procedure attracted over 260 million views and 24,000 comments on Weibo in a couple of days in late May.

However, health experts pointed out that after these nerves are removed, people cannot walk as fast, or run or do other active sports that requires the use of calf muscles, without falling; moreover, their lower legs will probably recover to original size or even become deformed because of compensatory growth in other parts of the calf.

The procedure originated in France in 1985 as a way to treat club foot caused by spinal cord or cerebral injury. It was first performed as a cosmetic procedure in China around 2005, but is no longer offered at legitimate plastic surgery hospitals because the removed nerves cannot be recovered and the impact is irreversible, according to the Beijing News. Despite those warnings, two Beijing hospitals that the newspaper visited had received a flood of reservations for this service during the Dragon Boat Festival holiday from June 12 to 14."

Horrifying. What happens to these women when they're chased, in danger, at the scene of an emergency, and can't fucking run ??

[oumaheroes]

Talk dover to me <3

'How hot is it?'

'It's hot.'

'Is it hot enough for me.'

'Francis, get the fuck in.' Arthur sat up and back further in the tub to make room, 'Stop looking at me like that; get in and shut the bloody door. You're letting all the heat out.'

'Oh, I thought it was hot enough.'

Arthur raised his eyes to the heavens and sank back lower into the water.

Francis shut the door and turned back to glare at him, 'You're taking up all the room.'

'You took too long.'

'Move.'

'I will when you get in.'

'You're insufferable. This is supposed to be relaxing. I'm supposed to enjoy this.' In a swift movement, Francis shucked off his (overly) fluffy bathroom, ‘Get out of the way.’

‘I will when you get in.’

Francis stepped one foot fully into the water with a wince and Arthur grinned, ‘Too hot?’

‘Arthur, I swear to God I will sit on your legs.’

‘I took the tap side for you.’

‘I appreciate the weaponry to hand. Move.’

Before Arthur could retort, Francis stepped fully into the tub and Arthur had to swiftly moved his legs out of the way to avoid tendon damage.

‘Look, you’ve flooded us.’ Arthur said, eyeing up the overflow along the tub’s rim from the wave made by Francis’ entrance. ‘That better not go through the carpet to the floorboards, we can’t afford to redo them after the kitchen.’

‘I’m surprised you have enough heart and feeling in your stingy heart to allow us to have this much water.’ Francis sank as deep as he could go, knees sharp mountains in the water, and closed his eyes, ‘Ugh, it’s been too long since I’ve had a bath. I needed this.’

‘Hmm.’ Arthur pulled one of Francis’ feel forwards to massage his calf, firm circles with his thumbs, ‘It’s rarely cold enough to be worth it.’

‘That’s a terrible opinion.’ Francis cracked open an eye, looking just behind Arthur and to the right, ‘As is the need to have the window open.’

‘I like the contrast.’

Francis shook his heard and closed his eyes again, ‘I think I’m going to quit.’

‘Finally.’

‘Yes, well. I had hopes. Growth upwards, more than anything currently improving.’

‘Move on to another station?’

Francis shrugged, ‘The chance for more responsibility. Menu choices, ideally.’

Arthur snorted and moved onto Francis’ other leg, ‘As if David would ever let you do that.’

‘He does for Nikhil.’

‘Nikhil is an arselick.’

‘Nikhil is also the level above. But even then, to just move off vegetables and fish. I hate fish, or I hate cooking fish. The smell gets everywhere.’

‘I don’t mind you smelling like a whore.’

Francis hit him with a sudden splash of water, Arthur catching the grin of his teeth right before he closed his eyes.

‘Stop it. Let me moan; don’t make me laugh.’

‘I would do no such thing willingly.’ Arthur lay back as much as he could with the awkward and hard metal of the tap, lolling his head against the wall with his arm slung over the ceramic to keep him from sliding. ‘Your unhappiness is my entire aim.’

Francis snorted and cupped water in his hands to tip onto the crown of his head, fingers raking through the strands.

‘Are you actually?’ Arthur asked after a moment, his hand going back to the meat of Francis’ calf, then the cool skin of his knee, ‘Going to quit; go somewhere else.’

Francis shrugged. ‘No. Yes. Inside, mentally, I quit ages ago. But today was just...’ he waved a hand lazily, ‘I don’t know how much longer. Not because it’s hard or bad but, what’s the point. Of being stuck somewhere that won’t change, clinging to something that left a long time ago.’

‘True, I-‘

‘Like you with me.’

Arthur froze, a coldness blooming in his stomach to spread like ice through his veins. He pulled his hand away and Francis eyed him, eyes flicking up and down.

‘How many years has it been?’ He asked, ‘Five? Six?’

Arthur tried to speak but managed only a croak. Swallowed, tried again, ‘Seven.’

‘Ah yes, seven.’ Francis looked around the bathroom, at the cracks that Arthur now remembered as being on the ceiling, the damp mildew stains along the tiles to pillow black in the grouting that hadn’t been there a second ago. ‘Too long, my love.’

Arthur couldn’t speak. He reach forwards, through still, tepid water to where Francis still lay bright and whole against clean ceramic and the vibrant colours of years before. His hands met nothing but the smooth other side.

Francis watched him, silent. There was something of pity in his expression, almost readable as contempt. ‘Arthur.’

‘No.’

‘You have to let me go, Arthur.’

‘Francis.’ Arthur pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, keeping the sound of Francis’ voice safe and away from the reality that his eyes could now see, ‘Please.’

‘It’s funny that this is where you see me.’ A soft splash, the gentlest movement of water, ‘Is this the only place that you have left? The last place you can call me back?’

It was. There had been others, especially right at the start. Francis in the kitchen, Francis in bed. Francis draped across the lounge sofa, hair in Arthur’s fingers, his warmth against his side. But the rooms were too large and the truth too heavy, too much to filter with so much space to repaint. As the years fell away, it became harder through the years to recall Francis there for more than a flash, and Arthur always needed more.

The bathroom, small and cramped in their little old flat, was still enough. Arthur could pull their relationship out there and unfurl it like a canvas, run through imaginary tapes of old conversations and quiet little moments to fill the space and coat it completely.

It still felt so real.

‘Your brothers are worried about you.’ Another splash, coming closer, ‘You look at least ten years older than you should.’

‘Stop. Please, don’t.’

‘Keeping me here is taking too much.’ Another splash. Arthur heard something lift out of the water, heard the plink plink plink of droplets falling from something tangible there with him. ‘How much life do you have left to waste on trying to get back the one that you lost?’

Arthur felt Francis’ hand on his cheek, his fingers cold and hard as bone. Arthur’s breath caught and he squeezed his eyes so tightly that he could hear a roaring of blood in his ears.

‘Are you waiting for me to say that I forgive you? Do you keep bringing me back here, dragging me up, because you hope that maybe I’ll say you’re not to blame? And, since I won’t, you instead play happier memories again and again and again-’ Francis squeezed hard, fingers digging in sharp to Arthur’s skin, ‘to avoid that day?’

Arthur tried to shake his head but couldn't, found his whole body was rigid and stuck. He tried to jerk away, kick his legs at the thing holding him there but his legs couldn’t move. The tap pressed sharply into his back, limescale cutting his skin.

‘Oh.’ The thing that still sounded like Francis tutted, ‘If only you hadn’t been drinking.’

A crash, a car. Night time, Coldplay’s Yellow lifting into the darkness as behind him on the verge... Whiskey on Arthur’s breath, he’d been at the limit but still-

The grip tightened, harder against Arthur’s teeth to force the bitter reality past the lie and into his mouth. ‘Didn’t you have just. One. More.’

Finally, Arthur opened his eyes.

It does not take long for flesh to decompose. Especially in the summer, especially when it was already so ruined, so open.

Nothing hung from Francis’ bones, nothing was left of his softness. His beauty vanished when his soul did, leaving only the shell of a thing that sits before Arthur in chilling water: empty darkness between ribs and cheekbones, picked clean by the creatures of the earth that he was returned to.

‘I’m sorry.’ Arthur whispered to it through its fingers, ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

‘I know.’ Francis’ voice is still in his head; the fused jaw did not move, ‘But that doesn't change anything, does it?’

-----------------

AN:

... I... This just happened and did not go quite according to the plan that I had in mind but we're rolling with it

[epigstolary]

Gosh,, your stuff is always so intricate, and it makes me think about my favourite aspects,,

Fat hands becoming virtually useless, faces so puffy they're unrecognisable,, feet so bloated it's hardly apt to call them that... More like flippers than anything else, flippers on a fat, useless seal that helplessly grows more blubbery

Animalistic comparisons are such a blast,, cause, surely a normal human wouldn't be so fat, wouldn't GET so fat.... You're just something else...

Pig, hog, cow, elephant, whale… why does it seem like the only way to describe what you’ve done — are doing — to yourself is to compare you to an animal? Plenty of people get fat; they grow double chins and beer bellies and thunder thighs. Nothing unusual in that. Nothing that defies ordinary description.

But you’re different. What you’ve done is fundamentally transformative. You’ve let yourself get so fat that nobody who only knew you before your ballooning growth would be able to recognize the old you under those chipmunk cheeks and flabby jowls. Your frame is too laden with fat to walk upright; all you can do is wallow around wherever you last dumped yourself and let your pinched feet keep getting swallowed up by calf fat. With hands like a glove filled with pancake batter, you can’t even write or type or handle a tool even as simple as a fork without your fat getting in the way. You’re a different person than you were when you started gaining — if person can even still be used to describe you, when you’ve traded so much of your humanity for a half-ton of blubber and the tons of food needed to maintain it.

So we look to comparisons with animals you more closely appear to resemble to make sense of what’s happened to you. You lay around in decadent gluttony like your porcine cousin, eating and taking your ease. Your decadence turned to hoggish squalor once your size, and the obscene lard you’d accumulated, made the laying around compulsory. Then your indulgence took on a bovine quality as you started doing little other than graze constantly, your body filling out until your chest and belly and hips all swelled into a largely shapeless bulk, your fixation on chewing and swallowing dimming your senses. Finally, for sheer size, you reached a point where you could only be described as elephantine — too big, too bulky, too ungainly to ever make your way in a world built for humans. No choice but to retire from view, and keep consuming the massive amounts of food that got you this far.

The whale is about the only size up you have left. Fitting that in the end, you’d be compared to an animal known, and famous, for its blubber — immense, distant, unimaginably fat. Unfortunately for you, whales don’t do very well on land…