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  1. PumpCulture

    The Mass of Us - part 5 (finale)

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

    The Mass of Us - part 3

    CW: FMG, muscle worship, macro muscle, extreme muscle. (read part 2) Joel was scared. He'd been scared for longer than he could remember. He hardly slept. When he did sleep, his dreams were tortured memories. He had developed shakes in his hands, itchy trigger fingers, nervous tics. He saw Clickers in every shadow, men with guns in every doorway. But over time, his fear had changed. It had evolved into repulsion, disgust, terror. He was afraid of Ellie, his own daughter, his baby girl. She would not stop growing. That nightmarish thought occurred to him on a cold Winter's day in late-January. There were only two months left. He would push Ellie until she had nothing left. He kept pushing past that until she began to beg, all the sanity draining out of her bloodshot eyes. He pushed her past even that until she was a convulsing mess, a steaming, musky, sweat-stained, breathless pile of bright red stretch marks, bubbling veins, raw sinew and muscle fibers swollen past all recognition. She stood there sobbing uncontrollably, too bloated with muscles screaming in their outright torture to even think about reaching up to cover her own reddened face, even if she actually had her hands free. Hell, her shredded, over-inflated biceps alone prevented her from even making a right angle with her elbows anymore. That was when Joel had an epiphany. It was as if the gray skies opened up and a voice said "life is pain". He had gone way past pushing her so she could be strong enough. Way past trying to shape her into the ultimate woman. She was no longer a woman. She was a weapon, a machine, a virus, infected with a never-ending, annihilating growth just like the Clickers themselves. Joel realized he was past the point of pushing her to grow. He had been pushing her to get her to stop. To break. To get her to cease her torment. But there was no stopping. This was life. She was life. They had to go on. They had no choice. The door couldn't be closed anymore. The growth couldn't be stopped. That was the day his baby girl became his nightmare. Joel's cracked voice which had trailed off came back with a vengeance, stronger and more determined: "Go on, lift! Push it up! C'mon! Like that! Don't quit! You're not weak! Fight! Fight or die trying!" She was doing squats. Under a compressed tank. Loaded with boulders strapped with chains on top. Additional boulders could be loaded from the top of the precipice and the weight could be adjusted with the help of two cranes that operated the steel wires attached to the chains, lowering or raising the whole heap. Joel had given up attempting to estimate how much weight she could lift. He simply added more weight. Every day meant more weight. Never enough. But this particular rig had had enough weight. Ellie had just crossed into triple digits for her reps, arms balancing the heft of the tank and its avalanche of boulders upon her shoulders like she was the mythical Atlas, when a wire snapped. One of the cranes began to bend in half like a plastic straw. Unable to control the amount of weight, the entire thing came down on Ellie, pushing her feet into the cracking stony ground. But she held it up, the entire weight, all by herself. The whining of rusted metal shattering, the slicing sounds of wires whipping through the icy air, chains pulling, boulders shifting, the tank groaning under the weight... all that noise nearly drowned out Ellie's screams. Joel stiffened, watching her, completely helpless. His cranes were toast. His controls were useless. He couldn't hope to help her lift it. But then, her screams turned into an animal roar and that roar turned into a violent, guttural bellow, deeper and more intense than any human Joel had ever heard before. Spittle flew from Ellie's howling mouth, dripped from her purple face and bare fangs, as the whole rig shook and her body miraculously, hideously, revoltingly, explosively responded. Joel couldn't believe his eyes. Her veins spread and seemed to multiply, a popping, undulating, throbbing mesh. With so much mass to feed, her blood and heart worked overtime, rising to the occasion to feed the swelling beast and glut every muscle past its distended, garish limit. Ellie's pulsing meat filled up every available space. (access the full story and library at patreon.com/pumpculture for just $5 a month)
  3. Hey everyone; just finished the latest part of this story series. Link below if you need to catch up on the first chapter; otherwise, all constructive criticism is welcome. Hope you enjoy! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “I thought you said you were going to help us water the crops, Xavier.” “GAH!” I nearly fumbled the bucket in my hands when I heard Cyra’s voice behind me out of the blue, juggling it for a moment before managing to get a firm grip on it. After checking to see I’d taken minimal splash damage, I turned to look back at the massive bull woman looming behind me. Cyra crossed her massive arms over her chest as her brown eyes looked at me with something that looked like a mix of confusion and annoyance. I’m a hair shy of six feet, but she easily had six inches or more of height on me(and given how big her muscles were, she probably had at least six inches on me with a lot of measurements). She was wearing the same thick white cotton shirt that she’d had on at breakfast earlier, though she’d added a thick black apron and brown gloves since then. That and the various tools sticking out of the pockets led me to believe that she’d been working at her forge like she’d mentioned earlier. “Hi, Cyra.” I took a moment to steady my nerves before holding up the bucket in my hands, showing her the water I’d filled it with from the well. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.” “But why are you using my drinking cup to do it?” She responded, her short black hair shifting slightly as she tilted her head. “Your… drinking cup?” I blinked and looked down at the bucket in my hands. “Isn’t this a little big for a cup?” “I get really thirsty.” “But it was tied to the pole above the well…” “I don’t want to lose it.” “But…” My next retort was cut short as I noticed Cyra’s glare narrowing. Fighting down a sigh of annoyance, I gently let the bucket go to hang back above the well. “O.K.; how should I do it then?” The way the well was constructed was a little odd to me at first, or at least the construction around the well had me confused. Sitting atop a hill, the well itself looked like… well, a well. What confused me how the well itself sat in the middle of what looked like a giant stone bowl that was probably about ten feet across and about a foot or so deep. One end of the bowel opened up into a trench that flowed downhill into a massive basin near the field of crops while on the side opposite that atop the bowel a small wooden bridge let me access the well without having to jump in the bowel myself. For the last hour or so I had been drawing water out of the well with the bucket and dumping it down into the bowl surrounding the well. “I told you at breakfast I was going to leave the supplies you’d need by the shed.” Cyra motioned toward said shed at the bottom of the hill. “They’re still sitting there waiting for you.” “I remember you said that, but I didn’t see anything that looked like it would help.” I would’ve asked for help, but Asura had already left for a nearby village and Cyra… well, given her attitude toward me so far, the less I bothered her the better. “For Goddesses sake…” With a heavy sigh and an eye roll she descended the hill while I(somewhat reluctantly followed). Reaching the side of the shed, she grabbed off what looked like a belt that had been hanging on a hook and practically shoved it into my hands. “Here. Now get started; we’re already behind schedule.” “Uh…” O.K., I admit I barely know the difference between a rake and a hoe, but even I was pretty sure the stuff she handed me wasn’t typical farming equipment. I took a moment to assess I wasn’t missing something beyond the sheathed knife and two glass flasks that adorned the belt. Both flasks had simple cork stoppers keeping them closed, one filled with a white liquid and the other filled with something yellowish and was ice cold to the touch. “At the risk of sounding really stupid…how?” I asked, holding up the belt toward her. “With your muscle magic, obviously.” She said it so naturally and plainly I figured she meant it, but that didn’t mean I understood what the hell she was talking about. After a few awkward moments of staring at each other, it seemed to finally click for her that I was totally lost. “I thought you said you had magic in your world. Isn’t that how you got here in the first place?” She asked. “What? No!” I sighed a little; despite her intimidating size and her general dislike of me, I couldn’t help but let a little annoyance slip into my voice as I responded. “I’m sorry, but Asura and I talked about this exact thing at breakfast this morning. You were there with us pretty much the whole time.” “Eh; I stopped paying attention once Asura said you were going to pull your weight around here. Tell me what you said, and make it quick.” “But that was aft-“ Another glare and a bullish snort cut me off, which threw me off a bit considering she still looked largely like a human woman, just a large one with horns and a black bull tail. “Fine. Long story short, there is no magic where I come from. We have the IDEA of magic from fantasy books and whatnot, but it doesn’t actually exist.” “Then what was that weird rectangular stone you were messing around with at breakfast? Looked pretty magical to me.” It took me a moment to realize the rectangular rock Cyra was referring to my smartphone. The waterproof case it was in saved it from getting damaged when I took that dip in the Blight earlier, though it essentially was about as useful as a rock now. Apparently there weren’t any cell towers or wi-fi in this seemingly medieval fantasy based world. Shocking, I know. That meant I couldn’t reach out to Rachel to ask her how or why she’d done this to me. It had to be something she did, right? I don’t think any company would be fine with selling equipment that disappeared their customers to another world, though I suppose that WOULD cut down on customer complaints if the customer was no longer around to complain in the first place. As crazy as it sounded, she had to have done this herself. The only thing even more confounding than the how was the why. I’d spent most of last night in bed thinking over our friendship for the past decade, wondering if I had done something to her that she deemed banishing me to another world justified. As far as I could honestly tell, the answer was no. She was a cute girl, but by time I even started to entertain romantic feelings for her in high school she was already getting scholarships to top colleges when we were more than a year from graduation. Knowing that meant her moving several states away and never picking up on any signs of mutual feelings for her beyond friendship, I set aside any long shot hopes of love and tried to be the best friend I could be. “Well, you must have done something. Or not done something if she wanted you here. Worry about your other world problems later; you got real world problems right now.” Little weird hearing a massive woman with bull horns and a tail tell me to focus on my real world problems, but it was probably best to listen as Cyra continued. “You said you’re familiar with the idea of magic at least. Even you should be able to handle something as basic as muscle magic.” “Yeah, about that. I’m sorry, but when I think magic, I don’t think about muscle.” I responded. “Honestly, quite the opposite.” “Why? Magic is just about forcing your will on reality with some sort of power. Wizards do it with fancy words, clerics do it with their faith in the Goddesses, and males do it with their muscles; at least, they did when they were around. It’s not exclusive them of course, but not too many females are interested in practicing it.” “Present company excluded, I’m guessing?” My question got the first smile I’d seen out of Cyra since coming here. “I guess you’re not totally clueless. Yes, I practice it. It’s pretty much the only way I can keep with the massive amount of work needed for this farm by myself.” Cyra’s smile faded after a moment. “Ah crap…” “What? What’s wrong?” “Well, I’m no teacher, but if you’re gonna be any kind of use around here, someone’s gotta show you how to do it.” She looked me up and down for a moment before sighing. “Damn it Asura; you planned this, didn’t you?” Before I could ask what she meant by that Cyra grabbed the knife off the belt I was still holding in my hands. A brief moment of panic hit me as I expected she was about to plunge it into my chest out of annoyance with me, so I was completely unprepared when she removed one of her gloves and pricked her own finger instead. She passed the knife back to me(hilt first) before telling me to hand her the white liquid flask and step back. Doing as instructed, I stepped back as she stuck out a foot and spun herself around completely, standing center in the middle of what looked like a perfect circle she’d made in the soft dirt. “To be clear, muscle magic sucks in a lot of ways. Pretty much all its good for is moving and manipulating what’s already there, and since your drawing power from your own body it’ll leave you both physically and spiritually exhausted if you go for too long. You’re pretty much begging for trouble if you use it in a combat situation with anybody who can use any other kind of magic.” Cyra held out her pricked finger over the circle, letting a drop of blood fall onto it. “That being said, it does have some benefits…” I just nodded along like I understood as Cyra uncorked and tipped a drop of the liquid on her cut finger, the liquid bubbling not unlike when you use hydrogen peroxide on a wound. Her finger looked good as new as she set the bottle down at her feet and rolled up her sleeves, fulling exposing her ripped arms. Closing her eyes, she held her hands out in front of her like she was gripping an invisible bar. She then began to pump her arms in what looked like a double bicep curl. Though it looked like she was holding nothing, Cyra moved as cautiously and steadily as if she was curling actual weight. By the time she finished the third rep I started to ask what she was doing, but as she started the fourth rep my attention was diverted to her arms. Bright blue lines started snaking their way down from her shoulders to her arms, the pattern looking vaguely similar to a vein structure as it continued to move along. While it seemed to be covering her whole arm, the glowing did seem to concentrate largely on her biceps which looked…bigger? It seemed crazy, but her arms were definitely growing, and not just from the normal muscle pump I’d have expected. Without a tape measure I couldn’t be sure, but she had to have added at least five or six inches to her biceps by the time she hit the 12th rep, the rest of her arms looking a bit larger as well. The majority of the growth did seem to concentrate in her biceps along with the glowing blue lines, so there was obviously some connection there. At 15 reps she appeared to release the invisible bar, then stomped on the edge of the circle. Two things happened almost simultaneously as she stepped on the edge of the circle; the lines along her arms disappeared and I heard a low rumble coming from the well. A moment later water began to shoot from the well like a geyser, shooting four or five feet into the air before falling into the bowl around the well. This continued for about thirty seconds as the water flowed down the trench into the basin below, easily matching if not eclipsing what I had managed to do with an hours work with the bucket alone. I looked back to Cyra in awe, who smiled as she flexed her hugely pumped arms. “Like I said, muscle magic’s sucks in a lot of ways. But just like how your body builds itself back stronger the more you work it out, magic does the same thing. When you mix both of these together, the long term growth effects of both occur much quicker and stronger than they would alone. I’m guessing Asura knew that, and she mentioned how you wanted to get in shape. Well, if have any hope of keeping up around here, you’re going to have to learn it too.” I nodded dimly, three different thoughts running through my head at the same time as I contemplated Cyra’s words. Number 1: “Holy crap, I really hope I can do stuff like that.” Number 2: “Holy crap, I’m not sure if I’m more turned on by watching her grow or the thought that I could grow like that too.” And number 3: “Holy crap, I hope she doesn’t notice how hard that made me.” “Come on; I need to get back the forge eventually.” She motioned back toward the shed. “I’m gonna grab something else that should help you out, and then we need to get started on growing you too.”
  4. Hi, folks. I'm back after some time away. Thought I'd share a teaser for the Macro Muscle Titan - part 3, which just went live recently! Here's a clip: =================================== CW: muscle growth, macro muscle, hyper muscle, solo sexual content. (read part 1) (read part 2) "Lara...?" Darkness. Numbness. Pleasure. "Miss Lara? Maybe before you black out from another round of orgasms you can answer a few of my questions this time." The shrill voice was followed up by a cackle. The unmistakable laughter of one Ahnko Errstone, chief scientist of the Survey Corps and the world's leading teacher and student of Titanology. Lara Croft opened her eyes, waking as if from a dream. An incredible pressure boiled in her chest and her breathing felt tight, rasping. She quickly noted the cool but stale air, like a cave. The walls were huge slabs of stone. The chill clung to the beads of sweat that cascaded down her bare skin, dripping from her ample breasts and hardening her nipples. She felt her skin prickle into goosebumps as the sweat slid down her slender waist and voluptuous hips, her toned legs, mingling with the wetness dripping from her womanhood. That was when she felt it, remembered it, the endless rhythmic in-and-out pattern of the artificial phallus that plunged her feminine depths, slowly, maddeningly. Looking down, she could just barely make out the apparatus: a series of squeaking, interlocking wheels mounted with a metal shaft shaped like a rather large male genitalia, shining with lubricant as it pierced her vagina over and over and over again at its sluggish pace. A sex toy. Why? The rictus grin of a familiar face suddenly appeared as Ahnko leaned into Lara's vision. "Yoohoo! Comfortable? I know it's not the same thing as floating idly in the ocean but I like to think we treat our captive titans well." Ahnko swayed her hips teasingly as she strode past Lara. The scientist reached into a pocket and flicked her wrist, tossing photographs down on a table where her captive could see them. Lara looked down and her heart froze. She tried to get away from the repulsive images but her raised arms tugged helplessly against the chains shackled to her wrists and ankles, which pulled her body into the shape of an X. Her breathing quickened with her pulse. She felt dizzy again, nauseous. Lara had no choice but to sate her curiosity, in spite of her disgust, and gaze down at the pictures. "Like them? Masa put up a bit of a fight but he gave up his secrets in the end..." Ahnko gestured at a set of photographs depicting a gigantic nude humanoid with a dull look on its toothy face. A nail the size of a telephone pole had been driven through the creature's chest and into the wall behind it, although it hardly seemed to notice the garish wound. The rest of its body was tied down with straps hammered with tentpoles into the ground. "Or there's Mune, who could hardly get around on his own as it was. He was easy enough to capture and domesticate..." Ahnko pointed to other photos with a bloated giant, also nude--but also without sexual organs, Lara noted--who had been strung up with wires where it sat on the ground like it was a maypole. Ordinary humans surrounded it, presumably those who tied up the giant, and Lara guessed that their captive was several meters tall in comparison. "See, I capture titans and then take them apart. Unlike my successor, I don't admire or pity them." The scientist smacked her hand down over the photographs. "I hate them. I'm disgusted by titans and their greed, their size and power. I cram them in a bottle and don’t poke any holes. I rip their wings off and listen them cry... and now, you're my new bug!" Ahnko resembled a child that had had too much candy. "Now, what are we going to do to you first?" She folded her arms over her leather vest and white blouse, eyeballing the other woman through a circular device over her eye like a monocle. "What do you want?" Lara said with her enunciating accent. Although her voice came out in a hoarse whisper, her low, husky tone sounded just as sultry as ever. Ahnko saw right through it. "You're quite a specimen but don't even try it. I'm so dedicated to my work, I might as well be a eunuch!" Lara traded out the silk for the venom, "Let me go." "Not a chance. You're a danger to yourself, to our civilization, hell, maybe even to the entire goddamn world," Ahnko responded, moving closer to her captive. "You do remember, don't you?" "Remember what?" Lara lowered her head and scowled at her captor. "When we first discovered you, do you know we thought you were an island? A land mass. Can you believe it? The size of your body..." Ahnko was so close Lara could feel her breath on her sweaty skin. The scientist reached up and flicked a finger down Lara's nose, "Immeasurable. Of course, I thought about measuring you. You were already far, far bigger than the largest titan our civilization has ever encountered... but what I didn't realize is that unlike other titans, you were still growing. It would've been impossible to measure you. You were an infinitely expanding world of muscle, so far as we could tell... And the trick seems to be this little doodad." Ahnko leaned in close and reached behind Lara's neck, tapping a metal object that had been fastened to the base of the captive woman's skull, right where her braided ponytail began. "Now..." Ahnko stared straight into Lara's eyes with a begging, pouting look, and whispered, "care to tell me where you got this ancient medallion from, hm?" Lara stared back. "I don't remember." "Aww that's a shame. I thought you were going to be a good girl. See this?" Ahnko picked up a small device attached to a wire. "This means persuasion. This little wheel on top of it can roll forward..." the scientist ran her thumb against the top of the joystick--Lara sucked in her breath sharply and experienced a wave of sexual pleasure--"...or backward." And then the wave subsided, although Lara's lady bits were throbbing against the metal phallus that had again slowed to a crawl. Lara swallowed hard. "T-that's supposed to make me talk?" she said through ragged breaths. Ahnko blinked. "Why... yes. Of course it is. Turns out, the secret to diminishing your size was stimulation. Isn't that impressive? No other titan even possesses sexual organs but giving you sweet, sweet release was the key to returning you to normal. You have our own Attack Titan to thank for that... he went to town on your... err... hot zone." Lara clenched her eyes and tried to blot out the feeling of the device between her legs rubbing against her clit and labia. She took a deep breath and forced the memories out of her mind: the Attack Titan fisting her canyon-sized vagina. "It seems you have some sort of unique power over men, not unlike abilities we've recorded in titans that can call smaller giants to their aid. You're a shapely woman, of course," Ahnko looked her over from head to toe and bit her lip a little, "and perhaps that's magnified when you're in titan form--I'll have to test that, somehow--but you can rest assured that we've taken all precautions here... You put our Captain into a coma! I think you overloaded his system. But we are quite isolated now. The room is insulated and there's not a man for miles. Nobody to test your feminine wiles on! Just this." Ahnko rubbed her finger against the joystick. The wheels turned a little faster. The phallus plunged a little quicker. Lara gritted her teeth through it but could feel an orgasm building, powerfully, irresistibly. "You're lucky," the scientist was cackling, "Usually we have to go about bloodier business to take down a titan! So... now you know how you got here. How about that medallion, eh?" Again the scientist configured the joystick. Again the sexually stimulating artifice ramped up its speed, although only by a bit. Lara’s heart began to race, her breaths began to pant, her sweat trickled down her naked body like fingers raking her flesh. She felt her muscles tense and relax, tense and relax, again and again, agonizingly, as if trying to grasp for some height she couldn't reach anymore, all as the orgasmic torture headed toward its inevitable climax. It was almost like she was trapped in somebody else's body, or outside of her own. Ahnko watched Lara’s impressive breasts rise and fall with each heavy, gasping breath. The scientist observed her specimen writhe. Lara’s face slowly contorted into a silent mask of anguish as her pleasure came to a head. She watched her fellow scientist, the once great adventurer and archaeologist wiggle like a worm on a hook, her gorgeous, lithe body tensing up, the veins popping on her temples and neck as she bared her teeth and screamed into the climax. The muscles all over her athletic, voluptuous figure flexed and for a moment, Ahnko Errstone felt fear, but she took no small pleasure watching Lara's steaming juices gush from her womanhood. When it was over, spittle speckled Lara's lips, but Ahnko didn't reduce the speed of the phallic device. "You've got a lot of stamina, I'll give you that, girl." Ahnko gently slapped Lara's cheek, reddening the captive woman's face. "You've put up with this for a long time. A long, long time. And it's not going to get better. Not for a while. Not until I hear about that medallion." Ahnko pressed a small button on the device in her hands. The sex toy between Lara's legs began to noisily vibrate even as Ahnko revved up the speed a little more. "How long can you keep it up?" (access the full story at patreon.com/pumpculture: only $5 a month for all access)
  5. PumpCulture

    The Mass of Us - part 2 (TEASER)

    CW: FMG, muscle worship, f/f. Thick white suds and streams of cold water ran down Ellie’s gargantuan body, steam rising up from her overheated muscles in the dim fluorescent light of the butcher’s kitchen. The abandoned facility was the largest room with running water that they could find. Ignoring the vicious meat hooks still hanging in rows along the ceiling became a necessity. It might seem like a cruel space, but it was the only space big enough to bathe Ellie in, except for the freezing lake a mile down the mountain. Ellie hadn’t used a shower since she was 16. Far too cramped. At age 17, she was already too wide for most doors. Now, at age 18, Dina had to hose her down and use a brush and a sponge at the end of poles in order to scrub off the sweat and mud from her bruised and stretch-mark-scarred skin. Dina daren’t stick her hands between the deep crevices of those freakishly bloated muscles. The bones of her fingers might snap with an involuntary flex. Ellie couldn’t always control what her body did. But Dina didn’t mind. Sure, things were different now… When Joel had first introduced the idea of getting stronger in order to survive -- We’re put here on this godforsaken Earth to survive, at all costs, he would say -- the idea of putting on some muscle seemed novel, if not hilarious. Ellie was nowhere close to muscular four years ago and none of them could’ve imagined how much weight she continued to gain. Rapidly. If anything, the rate at which she packed on more mass had increased over the years, not diminished. At first, Ellie and Dina, girlfriends, teased each other about the differences in their weight. Dina always thought the new definition and toning was attractive. Then Ellie’s mind began to change, growing more obsessed as her body grew larger. At some point, Dina began wondering where it would stop as it became apparent that Ellie’s body was responding better than anticipated, but that was long before it spiraled out of control. Now Dina was bathing her like she was cattle. At first, baths were fun and new, even as Ellie’s muscles became frighteningly, alarmingly extreme. They played with the water, shot each other with the hose, and giggled, sometimes wrestled. Now? The air was thick with vapor and humiliation. They didn’t laugh. They didn’t even talk. They were disconnected, clinically so. Dina assumed the role of the nurse. Ellie was the patient. They didn’t look each other in the eye. Dina could tell that it bothered Ellie to have to be washed like an animal, like a semi truck, but she couldn’t find it in herself to comfort her. All there was was the writhing muscular barricade of the body her girlfriend was trapped in. Sometimes Joel talked about Ellie’s miracle, the thought of a cure residing in her genes, how maybe it was her genes that turned her into… this. Next spring, he estimated she would outgrow the butcher’s kitchen. He talked about designing a shower system for her with the bulldozer and a water tower. Joel talked about a lot of things. Mostly survival. Being prepared. He was disconnected in his own way. When he looked at Ellie, she felt like he was looking at someone else, either at somebody from his past who she reminded him of... or somebody he was trying to shape her into. Ellie, staring at the puddles on the cement floor, raised one of her colossal arms. Even a task as simple as that had become difficult, nevermind properly bathing herself without assistance. Dina adjusted the gray strap of her tank top while she waited, bravely enduring the creaking noise of Ellie’s bones hefting all that weight, and the tightening sounds of Ellie’s muscles contracting and stretching. She grabbed hold of one of the big stainless steel hooks, lightly. Ellie’s bicep, the size of a couch cushion, grazed across the side of her cheek, brushing an errant strand of her brown hair over her cute, freckled face. For a moment, Ellie’s green eyes looked up at Dina and their gaze met. Only for a moment. Ellie looked down at the floor again as Dina got to work scrubbing her girlfriend’s armpit. Shame but acceptance. Survive, at all costs... (access the full story at patreon.com/pumpculture)
  6. CW: muscle growth, BE, height, giantess, godhood, fantasy violence, m/f. "Thanks, she'll love these," the big, bespectacled man said as he handed a few dollars to the vendor. "It's our d-dating anniversary." He remembered his stammer, made sure to trip on the curb as he turned to cross the street. An old woman was crossing too, coming toward him while a daydreaming driver sped down the road. The big man covered the side of his mouth and sneezed, and a sudden gust of wind pushed the truck into the next lane, swerving around the pedestrian. He smirked to himself and bid the old woman good afternoon as she passed him, completely oblivious. Adjusting his thick-rimmed specs, he remembered that time a close friend who was in on the secret asked him what would happen if somebody ever saw him without his glasses on. They just say 'Has anyone ever told you you kinda look like Superman?' He chuckled at the memory. And that's when he heard it. The sky was being split in half. Something seriously big was screaming toward the city, faster than a comet. Clark had less than a second to react. More than enough time. The asphalt where he stood a microsecond earlier cracked and his street clothes evaporated into ashes as he shot into the air, a blue and red blur too fast for the human eye to see. Over the coast and then the sea, he braced himself to collide with the object, ready to absorb the impact... that didn't come. The object stopped. It didn't slow down. It just stopped in mid-air. The atoms pulled in its wake cracked with a deafening boom. Wreathed in flames and iridescent light, its horrifying form dawned on Superman's mind. "...Kara?" His sharp eyes and photographic memory instantly identified her sweet, young face through the wisps of smoke and steam and embers. Her shining eyes stared right back into his, and he didn't recognize the rage and greed behind them. It was as if his cousin had been replaced from the inside out! Atop her head, a beacon of horned light shone its silken effulgence in shades of color only visible to kryptonian eyes like theirs. He had seen stars in remote galaxies less beautiful than her crown, its gilded opalescence melting into her platinum hair. "Hello, Kal." Her generous lips parted, showing a perfect, radiant smile that betrayed the gut-wrenching mass of the rest of her body. That gorgeous face of hers contrasted with all the hideous strength coursing through her hyper-expanded muscles, muscles so dense that Superman's x-ray vision couldn't even penetrate them. But his microscopic vision detected that the cells lining her skin were being bombarded with solar energy, radiation that looked as if it was being condensed into trillions of pinpoints through trillions of magnifying glasses. To eyes as perceptive as his, she was blinding. There was a sound like marble grinding against metal as her pecs bunched up under her cute chin, her traps swollen up under her ears, mounds of muscle naked and bursting with corrugated power like the rest of her body. Superman felt a wave of shame pass over him at the sight of those inhuman slabs on her chest, torn to shreds down the middle, hefting two breasts each wider than his shoulders, each thrusting like a balcony from the wall of her torso. What would Lois think? But he couldn't look away, couldn't rip his eyes away from the most impressive physique he'd ever seen. And he had seen many. Despite the extreme mass packed onto her womanly frame, her symmetry was otherworldly. He caught himself drooling over her bursting T-shaped torso snaked with throbbing veins, her tapered waist overcrowded with abdominals fighting for space, her bulging obliques that somehow maintained her feminine curves, her hairless quivering sex, her chasmic thighs that looked like they were gashes rent out of solid titanium, her calves like gigantic, neolithic spearheads crafted from boulders... "Impressed?" her feminine voice was like the sound of starlight that only their alien race could hear, entrancing and awe-inspiring but coupled with a girlish teasing tone completely out of sync with such a grotesquely shredded and massive body. Even hovering in mid-air, she seemed to tower over him. His eyes followed hers. She looked over to her arm, raising, curling, clenching her fist. The goddess moaned aloud as she flexed a bicep, a huge peaking volcano of muscle that continued to engorge itself, fibers ripping and rebuilding, veins clawing, until it soared to its full peaking glory. And she brought her arm to her face and licked her own bicep, kissed it, eyes rolling back, lost in the bliss of so much inflated immensity. Her sweet saliva rolled down the bulbous curves of her arm like a drop of honey. Her other arm, he just noticed, held something behind her back. "Ohh my muscles feel so good... so strong..." "How...?" Superman found his voice. "...What happened?" "Maybe I finally soaked up enough sun by stepping out of your shadow," she looked at him, hungrily, even angrily. Superman caught her tone and tried to react to the situation. "Kara... you don't belong here. Not like this. You're not in your right mind..." Then the warning. He always gave a warning. Bad habit. "You need to get as far away from Metropolis as you can. Now." Kara sneered a bright grin. "Always the boss. Always acting like the big tough man. The whole world looks up to you. But how could I ever have done that? Hahaha, look at you!" He was a scrawny scarecrow before her, a boy in a costume, no more. Her eyes could see straight through him, penetrating his cells and his thoughts, his physiology and his psyche "Now you'll look up to me!" She began to fly toward him, toward the city, slowly, unstoppably. As her huge chest approached him, Superman backed up, every ounce of his being wanting to reach out and touch this embodiment of the ultimate power fantasy while every iota of his good nature reminded him to be a good boy. "Kara! Stop!" he said, "STOP!" The ocean waves beneath them billowed at the force of his voice, but even a command so powerful couldn't stop her. Still she approached, so immense and so close that her chest began to eclipse the radiance of her face and her crown. A meteor irresistibly falling toward humanity's extinction. "Kara? I'm not Kara, little man," daggers of light stabbed from her eyes, "I am the Goddess of War." Superman glanced back at the city, millions of lives clustered in streets and skyscrapers and suburbs, counting on him. He turned back toward Kara and was greeted with the gray, skeletal, sapped body of Supergirl, writhing like a worm on a hook, dangling from her tattered cape which was gripped tight in Power Girl's fist. Superman's temper simmered at the sight of her crumpled husk and the sound of her faint heartbeat. "Oh my God, what--" "She dared to defy me, Kal-El," the goddess responded, still approaching, "What will you do? Will you protect your city and end up like she did? Or will you bow down and worship the new empress of Earth?" "Let her go, Power Girl! NOW!" Superman threw the first punch. She shut her eyes and laughed, a twinkling sound like golden chimes and bells, and caught his fist in her own. Although his hand was bigger, she flexed and they both felt the bones in his fingers snap. "You chose poorly." The halo of light from her head turned into an inferno of colors. She pushed against Superman's fist and he found himself hurtling backward, his fall a blazing knife cutting open the sky. He impacted the street with a cloud of dust and broken asphalt, then a splash of water as his body punctured a water main. He was already in the air again. The goddess was still slowly descending. Superman grit his teeth and poured his energies into his eyes, blasting a barrage of heat vision that hit her square in the chest. He heard a horrifying noise: she scoffed at his assault. He roared as his red beams turned almost white, hot enough to melt any metal on Earth. Then he felt himself suddenly pulled forward, completely off balance. Power Girl had grabbed hold of his heat vision, fingers closing over the rows of searing light particles and she yanked him out of thin air. As he pitched toward the ground, he caught himself and took to the air again. People were beginning to react and break into a run, evacuating the scene as windows along the sides of skyscrapers shattered, waterfalls of glass tumbling to the walks below. As he flew, he spun himself like a drill and the air whirled around him, turning into a dark tornado that continued to grow in size. The super storm blackened the skies over the city and swallowed the goddess. The winds howled about her, still she descended at the same floating pace. "You think you can threaten my city? Leave NOW!" Superman's voice echoed on the wind. His fists landed across her back, her chest, her shoulders. His punches could crush moons. The sound of his attack was like bombs detonating. "Pff! Pathetic!" the goddess raised her arms to block her face, if only intuitively, throwing Supergirl's husk of a body to the ground below. "Don't tell me you're the one who brought together the Justice League, who humbled Darkseid, who once pushed planets out of orbit, who lifted infinity and survived death itself? You're nothing but an anachronism. A has-been. A boy scout helping old women across the street. Your time in the sun is over." His fists pummeled her impenetrable stomach, peppered her legs, faster than the human eye could see, all to distract from a single punch he prepared and landed right on the naked mound of her groin. Power Girl doubled over in sudden pain, shock filling her eyes as she sucked in air, as if she'd forgotten what pain felt like. Before she could catch her breath, she felt Superman's feet collide with the back of her head. She came crashing down into the shoreline below. The blast of her impact flattened nearby palm trees and showered sand and water vapor through the air. "You came barking up the wrong tree, Power Girl. I don't know what Ares has done to you, but we're going to reign this in together." Superman descended straight down and lighted on the beach, arms crossed. The Goddess of War shot toward him many times faster than a speeding bullet, too fast for the Man of Steel to avoid. She tackled him to the ground, a mountain of muscle too huge to wrestle. Her crushing hand was on his face. She tore his head off, screaming, enraged. Oil and wires leaked from his neck. Her magnifying vision recognized highly advanced kryptonian tech. A decoy! Hands of flesh closed around her head. She felt Superman dig his feet into her shoulders, one hand pulling up hard under her chin. His other hand slipped under the burning rim of her helmet and he yelled out in pain. Then he flew from his perch, tearing off the helm of war with him. A thunderclap echoed through her brain as the merged minds of Ares and Power Girl were severed. Shuddering, feeling suddenly far too heavy to stand, her whole body aching, her joints cracking, her muscles sore beyond words, Power Girl fell to her knees in the sand, panting. A wave of weakness and nausea hit her, marooned and shipwrecked inside of a body too muscular to move, the last remnants of her ruined costume hanging from her like cobwebs. She scrambled across the sand, coughing, drooling, all the light drained from her face. "So this was the cause of all this trouble?" Superman stood above her, red boots planted on the ground. He looked like a god. The perfect man, perfectly handsome and resolute. He turned the helmet of war round and round in his hands. It had reverted to its old steely blue appearance, hollow and dark. "Ares' helmet, the helm of War. Diana warned us about the Olympians before. They're treacherous. They can even turn someone as good natured as you into a monster." His eyes were full of pity. "...Kal..." Power Girl groaned. "Help me... I feel..." she spit bile into the sand. "So sick..." "You were sick, Kara. It's over now. Let me help you, please." He bent down and pressed his forehead against hers. "I'm so sorry." "I'm sorry..." her knee collided with his balls as her arms flung out and grabbed him. It took every last bit of strength she had. As he gasped, agony radiating from his groin, she whispered in his ear and wrenched the helmet from his grasp: "Idiot. Your kindness was always your weakness." As she placed the helmet back on her head, her body flared back to life. Rays of light sprung from her mouth and eyes, her face lit up with heavenly beauty, her health returned and doubled, she rose to her full height, several feet taller than Kal. Her hand was around his throat. She picked him up and slammed him into the ground, over and over, like a strangled rag doll. "You son of bitch! You goddamn pompous bastard!" she shrieked, her rage burning brighter and brighter, "You soaked up power and adoration for years, keeping me around like a fucking sidekick to clean up your mess!" She held him high by his neck, felt his energy flowing out of him... into her. "You feasted on their worship! You basked in the warmth of so much glory and kept it all to yourself!" She threw him. His body sailed through the air and collided with a skyscraper. Everyone had fled. Nobody was there to see his defeat at the hands of the Goddess of War... nobody except for Daily Planet reporter, Lois Lane, who had raced in a hijacked taxi to the oceanside. "Clark!" she cried. "Claaaaaaaark," the goddess teased, "I'm not done playing with you..." Superman gathered himself from the wreckage and staggered out onto the sidewalk and into the street. The Goddess of War was coming closer. He could feel the heat radiating from her immense body, like the sun. Except unlike the sun, she seemed to sap his strength rather than enhance it. Justice League! Priority K! Respond! he reached out for the telepathic web cast by J'onn J'onnzz, the Martian Manhunter. He had to call for help, he was weakening fast. Superman? Where are you? J'onn's voice rang through his synapses. Metropolis! Hurry! "Calling your friends, Kal? What a coward," Power Girl shook her head, "The world doesn't need cowards. It needs a Goddess! It needs War!" Her thunderous footsteps brought her nearer, shaking the whole city block. "Lois! Get back!" Superman shouted as his lover ran closer. "Worry about yourself, you goddamn pest!" the Goddess of War raised a massive leg and stomped his body into the ground. Before he could fly away, she sat on his hips. Her weight knocked the breath out of him. She pressed her pillar-like thighs against him like a vice. He winced as he felt a rib snap and his heart began to race with a rare feeling: fear. He looked up. Another mistake. Above him, Power Girl ran her fingers over the perfect symmetry of her bloated muscular body, the heaving slabs of her chest, the cannons of her arms, the chiseled columns of her abs. Her hands slid to her waist, balling into fists at her hips. "Look at me, Man of Tomorrow!" She began to flex, rhythmically gyrating her pelvis, grinding her wet pussy against his bulge. His breath was taken away. "LOOK AT ME!" He had no choice. The sight of her tensing, inflating, furrowed, gruesome muscles filled his vision. Her monolithic breasts began to bounce above him. He couldn't help but get hard for her, for all that insane, inhuman power packed onto the once petite (albeit busty) frame of her body. "LOOK AT ME, KRYPTONIAN! AND DESPAIR!" She flexed harder, only now her muscles weren't swelling from the flex, but actually filling up with energy like liquid filling up water balloons, like molten magma pouring directly into her white hot veins. "You've fought many battles, Superman! You've endured many wars, here on Earth and across the galaxy! Now all of your power, all of your skill, all of your battle prowess and experience belongs to me! All war must come together to feed the Goddess of War!" Superman felt himself getting weaker, not unlike the revolting sensation of being exposed to kryptonite, only he could see his powers flowing out of him and into his cousin riding on top of him. Power Girl leaned back, raised both arms and flexed. Her whole body exploded with additional mass. She did it again, her biceps rising higher, her forearms growing thicker, her waist tighter, her chest wider, her shoulders bigger. Her thighs swelled against him until they were each bigger around than his body. Her head disappeared behind a blockade of seething, undulating, super-freakish muscle. Superman wondered how much more she could take, and every moment saw his terror deepening, Lois sobbing in the background as he shrank and shriveled and dumped his strength into her. Power Girl was surprised by the endless drain, too. "There's more? MORE? FUCK. ME." Her muscular pussy grabbed his cock like iron jaws. His member throbbed uncontrollably, assaulted beyond reason, harder than he'd ever been before, so hard it hurt. From the colossal base of her shredded thighs like twin bulls roaring with power at either side of Superman's body, her waist rose like a Greek sculpture, entrenched with muscle and dwarfed by the rest of her body, by the trembling lats framing her like a broad shield big enough to cover a tank. As she breathed, her abs flexed and relaxed, looking harder and meaner and uglier every time, each individual abdominal now the size of his own head. Her pecs had so gorged themselves that they were each thicker than her own waist, huge sheaths of muscle looking like rocky strata jutting from the Earth, and atop them, the biggest, smoothest, most perfect breasts he'd ever laid eyes upon. He wept at the sight of them, if only because he thought he didn't have the strength left to reach up and fondle them where they bounced over his body, that is if he could even hope to knead those two wrecking balls striated like they were made of pure muscle. She had devoured so much of his strength and mass that her enlarged glutes touched the bottom of the muscles hanging in heaps of quivering flesh from her back like some alien tortoise shell. He could hear her moaning, kissing and licking her shoulders and the tops of her own pecs that were beginning to crowd over her face. She leaned forward and her fists came down on either side of his head, giving him a blinding front row seat to her face being swallowed up by her traps and shoulders and pecs, a face that seemed to unfold past the blossom of youth, the ideal narcissistic beauty, an unreachable standard, a mask of flaxen velvet, her skin like spun starlight, her eyes like celestial pearls, her eyelashes like the wings of night, her lips like solar flares, the saliva that dripped from her hungry mouth like incandescent ambrosia... she was unimaginably beautiful. No human could have resisted her. Few mortals could have even survived the presence of such beauty, like looking into the heart of the sun. Along her regal brow, the helm of war had evolved into the shape of an icy, horned diadem of platinum patterns repeating down through microscopic infinity, bejeweled with a constellation of gemstones that shone like the Olympian pantheon themselves, gods she had already far outpaced. Such a face, the freshness of youth, the wisdom of deities, the beauty of a queen, mounted on top of a garish, sickening, disgusting, distended war machine of muscle swollen past any semblance of normalcy, every muscle so vastly overripe that entirely new proportions came into existence on her frame. "Look what I am becoming, Kal," her voice crashed into his senses like a tidal wave. Superman couldn't hear Lois weeping in the background anymore. He couldn't even think of Lois, a waif compared to the sexual power personified in front of him, filling not just all of his vision, but all of his thoughts. Shield your vision. Do not look at her. Superman could hardly hear the new voice, either, even though it rang through his brain, not his ears. He felt himself tearing away from beneath her. He saw a green flash of light then heard the noise of light particles shattering. "Lantern!" J'onn J'onnz said as he flew up into the sky away from the Goddess. "...No... Take me... back..." Superman wheezed, "Back... to her..." Superman! the Martian Manhunter's telepathic cry shook him from his reverie, Do not forget our situation! A superpowered kryptonian is on the loose in YOUR city wielding the power of one of the most dangerous of the Greek gods! She just disposed of Hal Jordan with a flick of her wrist and I cannot reach her telepathically! Power Girl has merged with Ares! I cannot take you back! "Then... take me to the Fortress..." Superman clutched at J'onn's wrist. "Fast..." They rocketed through the air, Superman murmuring obscenities and perversions, his brain still reeling from the sight of what his cousin had turned into, the memory of all her muscle burned into his frontal lobe. The Manhunter said nothing, pouring on the speed, hoping that his tricks of invisibility would aid their escape. They were nearly over the arctic now, snowy plains beneath them, the Fortress of Solitude in sight when a beam of opalescent light carved the air and set the Manhunter ablaze. He hardly had time to scream as the white flames enveloped him. He dropped Superman and fell unconscious into a nearby mountainside. Superman opened his eyes and angled his body, clumsily gliding in his exhaustion as he fell, plummeting through the roof of the Fortress. Crystal shards splintered and cracked around him as he reached the floor. He felt like a bag of broken bones. With all the strength he could muster, he reached for a nearby console, fingers trembling over the controls. The Fortress reacted, sifting through his encyclopedic collection of artifacts from across the universe until the right one was selected and brought to him. A robotic arm craned down toward him, its pincers holding a tiny purple capsule with a single word writ in kryptonian: DOOMSDAY. Superman thought of Lois, and Jimmy, and Ma and Pa, and Lana, and Perry, and the old woman crossing the street, and the flower salesman, and the barista, and the millions of other faces of Metropolis and Smallville and across the world. The Doomsday mutagen was the last resort of last resorts, but as the entire front of the Fortress caved in, he knew what he had to do and he prayed that the surviving members of the Justice League would be able to stop him after he put his own cousin down. "There's no use hiding, Kal!" Crystals shrieked and ground into powder as Power Girl came through the wall, swinging the Fortress's giant golden key like the arm of a crane. "Goodbye, Kara Zor-L, and forgive me," Superman closed his eyes and snapped the capsule between two fingers. He could hear the hissing, monstrous DNA helix sizzling through the icy air like a dragon, and he braced himself to transform into an unstoppable killing machine, but then it stopped before it reached him. His eyes shot open, horror mixed with delight: horror at the thought of her ingesting the mutagen, delight at the anticipation of how it would even further push her limits. He screamed in protest and couldn't be heard. Power Girl had opened her mouth, inhaling. A hurricane swept to life inside the Fortress, glass and ice, crystal and machines breaking off and tumbling down her hungry gullet. She swallowed the Doomsday mutagen, shut her mouth, and laughed through her teeth. Her laugh grew darker, louder, more threatening, even as her body began to grow again, her skin turning paler, grayer, almost silver, impossible diamond-like spikes starting to protrude from her knees, elbows, toes, fingers, back, and knuckles. She continued to laugh as the Doomsday mutagen melded with the magic of the god of War and her kryptonian heritage inside her growing body, her muscles doubling in width, her head raising higher as she swelled taller, new veins paving paths through her muscles to feed her insane growth. So much power she choked on it and seized up wide-eyed through a breathless orgasm, juices blasting from her vagina, gorgeous face pierced with a look of absolute euphoria. Still her body grew. Still her kryptonian DNA flooded with the Doomsday mutagen, sealed in place and refined by the magic coruscating through her branching veins. There was a sound like a super nova. Fire and light erupted from her swelling form, her muscles so monstrous and enormous she looked like a round planet of boiling, steely flesh. She reached out and flexed biceps that crashed into the ceiling above like rising towers, triceps bulging against her surging thighs, legs grown so thick that her stance had turned into a squat. Through the roaring crescendo her transformation, Power Girl's voice resounded and shook the North. "The world will NEVER forgive you, Superman. They will hate you for crowning ME as their new empress!" (end of part 4) (access the full story and the full library at )
  7. Hello! I wanted to create a story that started where a lot of others leave off. Hope you enjoy. ============================================== "Keep your voices down. We're here. Intelligence doesn't know where this island came from or if there are titans here. Stay on your guard." Captain Levi Ackermann was the first off their vessel, alighting on the ruddy shore and eyeing their surroundings with intense suspicion. After him came Sasha Braus, smacking her lips as she nervously downed a hunk of biscuit. "I said shut up." Captain Levi cast her a cold glance and she popped the rest of the bread in her mouth. "Mmhm yeshir," she mumbled. The next off the boat was Eren Jaeger, bewildered eyes frowning at the uncanny landscape, and beside him was Armin Arlelt, the smartest of the group. Finally, Mikasa Ackermann followed up the rear, hands on her twin blades, ready for everything. Her body was a rope pulled taut. They were older now, these veteran members of the Scouting Regiment. A lot of time had passed since the Colossal Titan had first kicked in the wall but through many adventures, they'd stuck together. Together, they were a well-oiled machine. They'd killed many titans before, seemingly an unstoppable force. Of course they'd be chosen to investigate the mysterious island. "What kind of place is this?" Eren muttered. They took in the rounded island rising out of the murky, misty sea. It was hard to identify anything in the overcast gray of the hour. They couldn't make out where the shore bended on either side, but they had been told the island was estimated at a few kilometers long. Oddly, it's length was about the same as its width. Approximately, at least. "There are no trees," Armin whispered. "I can't see anything." "I hate it," Eren replied, "We could be ambushed. There's hiding places everywhere." "And look at this." Mikasa stepped in front of the group and swiped her foot across the ground. A light layer of sand and dirt and dust parted, baring a compacted earth the likes of which none of them had seen before. It looked perfectly solid and not at all porous, like some kind of solid golden-brown marble. A tight set of parallel grooves ran through the ground toward the interior of the island. "It's hard." Mikasa stamped her foot and got nothing but an ache in her bones. "Like metal." "Whoa! Very hard!" Sasha bent at the waist and poked at the ground, unable to even make the smallest dent in the banded, stone-like layer. The Captain reminded them: "It doesn't matter what it is. You have a job to do, I suggest you do it. We'll split into two camps." He pointed at each of them. "Mikasa. Eren. You take the shoreline south. Sasha, Armin, and myself will follow it north. We'll rendezvous on the other side of the island. Do not explore the interior of the island unless absolutely necessary. There could be lesser titans hiding in caves. Take turns keeping watch." His green cape waved as he turned and began his march up the shore. Sasha and Armin had no choice but to follow. Armin glanced back and waved at Eren. When Eren turned around, his adoptive sister was already headed down the shore. "You coming?" Mikasa said to Eren when he caught up with her. "Like you'd just leave me behind," he retorted. "...What do you think that smell is?" "I don't know. It's not unpleasant, but it is unusual." Eren looked behind them, the boat was already almost gone in the mist where they'd left it. If it even was a mist. It felt thicker than a mist or ocean spray, than even a regular fog, and it smelled sweet with just a hint of sourness to it. Not so much that something had gone stale but that something had remained here for a long time. Eren inhaled deeply and let out a long, slow breath. "What, you like it?" Mikasa looked at him. "I don't know," Eren responded, "It kind of makes me..." "...hungry," Sasha complained under her breath, "sooo hungry. Why am I so hungry?" Besides for her bellyaching, she and Armin and Levi marched on in relative silence, keeping up a good pace. The Captain had reminded them that there was a lot of ground to cover. Armin kept glancing back over his shoulder. Eren and Mikasa were long gone. Nothing but that oppressing fog. "What is it, Armin?" Levi said. "Nothing, Captain." A pregnant pause. "Ok it's just, I'm a little confused about what I'm supposed to be doing right now. If Intelligence needed somebody to go for a hike, then any able-bodied scout would do. I was told to secure specimens of local flora and fauna for study." "And?" "And look around. We haven't sighted a single tree. That in itself isn't wholly remarkable," Armin said, "but then, I haven't seen a single fern or blade of grass, either. There's no vegetation anywhere, just this layer of sand and dust over everything, and whatever that is underneath." "There's no fauna, either," Levi agreed. "Exactly. No vegetation means nothing to eat. There are no mammals or reptiles here. I'm willing to bet even the water around here has no fish. Have you seen a single bird, any seagulls at all since we landed? I haven't." Armin pressed his lips together as a huge dark cliff jutted out ahead into their path. It was a gigantic imposing shadow, not unlike a titan itself, buried at a bizarre angle in the ground, covered in deep cuts and rifts--where wind and rain eroded the surface? Armin wondered. He went on, "There's nothing here. Not a single mouse or bird making their nest, not a single leaf or vine... It's like nothing can live on this island, like..." he shuddered, clutching his cloak tight around his chest, "...like the whole place is dead." "Heeeeeeey!" Sasha's voice rang loudly through the air, even though she wasn't that far away, "I got your vine right here!" Levi rushed to her side and began reprimanding her about her volume, until he stopped short. Armin rushed up puffing behind him. None of them spoke a word after that. There, at the base of the gigantic cliff, grew some kind of vine, or something that oddly resembled a vine. It pierced out of the sandy earth, bending at cruel, excruciating angles as it crawled up the surface of the precipice. It hugged the stone, it seemed almost fused to it. The "vine" threw its tendrils or branches out in a jagged, random nonsense-pattern like the broken legs of a centipede. A very, very big centipede. At its widest point, it was wider around than the three of them standing together. They could walk side by side inside of it, if they could get inside. "What is it...?" Levi hissed, pressed his hand against the organic thing splayed out on stone before him. It wasn't soft but it wasn't as hard as the ground, either. Then he said decisively: "It's alive." "What?!" Armin and Sasha both gasped. "See for yourself," Levi answered. He retracted his hand and looked at it. It wasn't dirty or slimy. Sasha touched it next, then Armin, hesitantly. They could both feel it. Under the membranous surface of their "vine", it felt like there was something rushing, flowing. "Is it water?" Sasha mused. Armin thought of something much worse. "This island is cursed..." Then they felt it. The ground beneath them began to shift, almost like it was made of separate plates, like they were giants standing over the plates that moved the continents. A sound like a thunderstorm roared louder and louder underground, followed by a noise like steel grinding against steel, followed by a dull groaning noise that seemed to come from everywhere. The cliff above them shifted to the rocky, mountainous chorus. "Look out!" Levi led them down the slope and up the shoreline, racing behind them to ensure they kept up their speed. They stopped a short ways up ahead where a space cleared. Behind them, the cliff wobbled and seemed to stick out further over the ocean, but it didn't fall. Its strange movement carried along by the sudden earthquake, which had since diminished, seemed to cut through the intense fog. Armin peered up to the top of the cliff where it met another cliff and still another, and upward and upward until the side of the mountain disappeared in the clouds. Armin took in the vista, the sharp valleys cut deep into the rock, like a titan had carved them with massive hands. He scowled at the prospect of an island crawling with titans bearing huge claws and teeth that could tear open whole mountainsides. Sasha's stomach growled painfully. She doubled over and sunk to her knees, wrapping her arms around her waist. "Ugh... why am I getting so..." "...hot?" Eren took off his green cape and brown jacket. "Aren't you getting hot?" "Yes." Mikasa replied. "Just don't go in the water." She was standing at the water's edge, still as a statue, peering down into water that turned deep blue and then black almost immediately. There were almost no waves, no sandbank or anything. Somebody could get pushed under the island by an undertow, into an underwater fissure. Mikasa winced at the morbid thought. "I didn't plan on it," Eren said, then: "Look, there it is again!" He and Mikasa turned their faces inland. A hissing geyser of pent up pressure erupted into a cloud of steam from a deep rent in the earth. They didn't have to say it; the blast put them both in mind of titans. "They must be down there," Eren muttered, feeling his blood boil at the thought of them. "There must be some kind of underground lair." "Or..." Mikasa left the water and came up beside him, "it could be volcanic." Her brother sniffed the air. "I don't smell sulfur. But that odor is stronger now." "You felt that tremor earlier?" Mikasa insisted. "If the island is violently active, that could explain the lack of any life. This stuff might be volcanic ash for all we know." She kicked the dirt again. It went up around her feet in a puff of fine particles. Almost in response, another blast of hot steam issued from the ground to the sound of rocks splitting in two. A deep gurgling noise followed, like a huge aquifer shifting just under the earth. "I hate this place. Let's go." Mikasa turned and started walking again. Eren followed and they went on for a ways. Ahead of them in the distance, barely discernible, a long, rounded ridge stuck out from the main island, climbing to a huge beveled, tapered, narrow peak before diving again into the water. It had no shore, its sides marked with dense grooves and a huge garish rent, again pointing back to the island, even as the cliffs themselves went straight down into the water. "What could cause a rock formation like that?" Eren asked as they kept stride together. "If we knew, it might not be the mysterious island we were sent out to investigate." "Nothing in nature, I'd bet." "I guess so." "Do you think the titans realistically have anything to do with this place?" Eren grunted as he stepped up a huge plate of the same golden-brown stone bulging from the ground. "Realistically? What doesn't have to do with the titans," Mikasa intoned. "All our lives have been about them. That's why we're here." "Yeah but how long have we been doing this? You and I haven't come across anything like this place. Usually titans are on land, not stuck out here on some damned weird island. And if they are here, there's not much we could do about it. We're out in the open." Mikasa knew he was right. She scanned the horizon of the island: besides for the ridge going out over the ocean, there was no high point nearby. They had passed a few outcropping an hour or so ago, each of them like massive buttes rising almost straight out of the ground, peculiar in how they seemed organized, nearly regimental in their placement. She sighed. "There's still so much we don't really know about the titans. It's not unreasonable that we could discover a new strain of them here. If that happens... we'll need you to assume your form." "I know," Eren said, and then as he clambered over another ledge, he gasped. "Wow, come look at this!" Mikasa began climbing the natural steps, like huge wrinkles of solid steel, but then her brother yelled. "Lookout!" She leaped away just in time as a globulous white substance came flowing over the upper ledge like a flood. Standing aside, she watched it pass, holding her nose. It stank. It quickly slid over the surface of dirt like a massive bead of water, leaving a slick trail behind it, and then when it hit the water. It hissed, letting out its heat in sharp gasps of steamy agony. In moments, it was gone, leaving nothing but a thin, glistening slime trail. "Faster than a lava flow, and not quite as hot, I'd guess, if the geography books are at all accurate," Eren was saying. Mikasa came up behind him, mounting the upper ledge, glancing back at the black water, "And it didn't cool into rock. It sort of just melted into the sea." "And there's more where that came from." Mikasa turned and saw what Eren had initially called her up here for. She held her nose again. Before them, half concealed in the thick fog and billowing gouts of steam was a huge, white, viscous lake of some kind. Instead of a shore, the liquid bowled and beveled at its edges, again like a bead or droplet of water. It trembled like a pool of fat with every slight tremor and geyser nearby. "What the hell is that?" Mikasa finally managed. Eren took in a sharp breath through is nose. "I have no idea. As you were coming up, the ground shifted and a part of it dumped over the edge like a waterfall." "What are you doing?" Mikasa frowned at him. "Huh?" "...The smell!" "I don't mind it." He sniffed again. She frowned even more. "I think it's disgusting. We need to get moving and make some progress before--" The earth rippled under their feet. The rocks themselves seemed to groan aloud. The ledge under them were on bucked, throwing them into the air. Nothing they couldn't normally handle, except with the local topography, there wasn't much their harnesses could do for them. Still, they managed to jet through the air and utilize their wires in such a way to land somewhat safely--Eren fell on his shoulder and Mikasa on her hip. Neither of them appreciated just how hard the ground was, and it was still moving. The earthquake quickly dialed up its intensity. Underground there was a horrible noise like huge grinding molars. The crash of it filled their ears. The ground bucked again and again. It seemed to crack open as vines like giant writhing snakes erupted from blistering fissures, writhing over the landscape. They had to use their wires to remain safely attached to the floor. All around them, as the earth heaved, massive drops of the white liquid spattered. Mikasa's disgust was lost in the noise of the earthquake. She prayed none of it would fall on her. She should've prayed for Eren. Mikasa looked up in time to see a glob the size of a redwood fall out of the sky and cover her brother. Her first thought was that he'd be smothered, or drowned. She screamed his name but couldn't be heard. The glob hit the floor and splashed outward, leaving Eren absolutely drenched in the stuff. He looked horrified, revolted, until his expression suddenly changed. She saw his breathing quicken, grow heavier. His hair stood on end. His skin pricked with gooseflesh. His face went pale as his eyes filled with a wild lust. He crinkled his nose, taking in the scent that bombarded his senses. Mikasa wanted to puke but Eren gazed down at his body and the slime around him, looking as if he wanted to lick it up. He raised his hand and looked at the threads of sticky white ooze between his fingers. He moved it closer to his face! "Eren, no!" Mikasa deactivated her harness and ran toward him as the earthquake subsided. "Stop it! What are you doing!" He bared his teeth, turned his hand to bite down on his own flesh. "Get a hold of yourself! Stop! You're going to..." "...head inland. We have to! There it is again!" Armin put a hand over his own mouth and the three of them listened. The sound hit their ears, full of emotion, poignant, lonesome, longing, passionate. It was vaguely human. Levi's eyes seemed to follow the echoes reverberating off of the golden-brown cliffs. "It could be a titan," he said, once the sound died down. "It could be someone crying for help," Sasha admitted. Levi nodded. "You're right." He pointed up the steep, convex cliffside almost directly above them. The had walked for hours and what they thought had been an isolated cliff had turned out to be one of the jagged foothills of an immense mountain. "We go straight up the side of the mountain, head to the peak, and make a survey of the surroundings if we can. Along the way, we'll take turns pausing to scout for any sign of titans..." and he added: "or anybody needing our help. Understood?" They followed him up through the air, their harnesses whining as their bodies flipped elegantly. Ascending the mountain proved somewhat difficult: their wires couldn't pierce the extremely hard stone, so they had to pick their way a little more slowly, keen eyes sharpened for sharp grooves and rents. Still higher and higher they went until they reached the low-hanging clouds. The smell of the fog was sharper up here. Where is the damned peak? Levi's mind wandered, but just then the peak seemed to flatten out. Alongside it, chasms separated similar peaks just like it, all of them scarred by immense rents that pointed toward the island's interior. The top presented itself, a bare space of solid rock without the sand and dust of the beach far below them. Levi set down first and then Armin and Sasha behind him. They could hardly make out anything above them but a swirl of thick gray clouds. The peak itself seemed more like a plateau or mesa. Does it still go higher? Levi thought. An obelisk presented itself as a wind passed through the haze, clearing it just enough to reveal the object. It was as wide around as the turret of a castle. "What is that?" Armin asked aloud, "Some kind of natural formation? A geyser, maybe?" "Hmmm too big to be an anthill," Sasha stated, if only to mask the sound of her stomach growling. The vines crawled toward its base, or away from it, where golden-brown faded into dark brown, then red, then pink up toward the tip of the formation. "Doesn't matter," the Captain said, "Do you hear anything?" They strained their ears. The wind howled sharply against the stones in that desolate place, but behind it, they heard the voice again. It started in low and then built to a crescendo, seeming to cause the mesa under their feet to shiver. The climax of the voice cut off decisively, ending in what sounded like a whimper. "Somebody's there! They're in trouble!" Armin shouted. "Down there in that valley!" He ran and jumped into thin air, activating his harness to descend across the far end of the mesa. "Armin! Wait!" Levi yelled in pursuit, and he and Sasha descended after him. Hundreds and hundreds of meters of corrugated stone fell upward behind them. As it whipped past in immeasurable striated heaps, its constant quaking and quivering shifts disoriented them. What they thought was a beach awaiting them below by the water was just more vine-encrusted rock. They breathlessly lighted on the ground. There were more vines here than ever, bigger than ever, seeming to issue from a colossal cave, the only cave they'd seen on the entire trip. The voice moaned out of the dark pit, undeniably human. To Sasha's ears, it sounded hungry. "There could be titans. Stay close and be ready." Levi led the way, climbing the grotesque bulges of golden-brown stone. As they neared the entrance of the cave, a black orifice nearly serrated with tears and splits in the stone, the entrance pulsated. The voice moaned, louder than ever. It was a primal, guttural, wild call that seemed to issue up from the very earth itself, but with the unmistakable traits of a feminine voice... "Eren... Eren... Don't..." her voice called to him through the swampy trance. He answered. "Mikasa...? W-what happened?" any sign of anger or rage was gone from his tone, as was the hypnotic state the glob had left him in. His eyes were full of a sorrowful yearning, nearly stinging with tears. "You almost turned," Mikasa said, her tone full of concern. Eren put his hand down. "I won't. I'm fine... I promise you..." "Good. We have to keep moving. Find some higher ground before another quake like that hits. We're lucky we didn't fall into the water." "Yeah... you're right." He wanted to wash himself, the smell was still intoxicating, but she was right. They couldn't risk going into the sea. "Let's see what happened to that lake," Mikasa was climbing the ledges again, Eren just behind her. "Maybe there will be a path forward. Maybe that giant pool or whatever it was is gone." As they reached the top, the ground began to tremble again, pulling apart at the most bizarre of angles, the grooves in the earth flexing and unflexing. Their fears soon turned to terror. Where the "lake" used to be, a barren plain of undulating rock sunk down toward a canyon at their right. The ridge they'd spotted earlier formed one side of the canyon, but in the middle of it, at its head, and horrifyingly nearby, a grotesque chasm gushed forth torrents of thick white liquid, which splattered in globs and threads upon the far slopes of the ridge and poured down into the black water below where it boiled and fizzled as it mixed with the sea. Eren was running towards it. Mikasa screamed after him. He dashed like a madman, his sister falling behind, until he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. They were at the base of the chasm at the edge of the canyon. They could both hear the violent noises of spurt after spurt of ooze issuing from the gaping slash in the rock, easily big enough to fit a smaller titan. Hot steam and vapor smoked out of the chasm, which suddenly trembled and contracted, two muscular lips enclosing, raising, covered in layers of slime, unfolding like a massive city-sized flower of pink, greasy, fibrous petals. "Like the siren calling sailors to their deaths..." Sasha broke the silence of the cave and they all shuddered except for the Captain. He marched on under the crushing weight of duty, through the terror that the cave might just crush them. They had gone on a ways and it was pitch black and full of moisture, the only light a small lantern Levi had been wise enough to bring with him. They had to get down almost on their hands knees at one point, the oppressive ceiling and encroaching walls seeming to bulge down at them. The woman's voice called them onward. What could any human being experience to make such an awful cry? As the voice grew clearer, the cave suddenly opened up just a little and Levi at the front of the group froze. Sasha and Armin came up behind, peeking over his shoulders. They froze, too. "NO DON'T LEAVE ME BE I NEED IT I WANT IT IT'S MINE MINE NO I NEED MORE MORE MORE I CAN'T HAVE ENOUGH NEVER ENOUGH I NEED MORE YES YES I NEED MORE YES MORE--" the woman's voice gushed, ceaselessly. Her face toward them, her head was wedged into the rock, which bunched up with coiling vines... no, veins... around her chin. A single, long, brown, frayed and braided ponytail rolled out along the floor. Not floor. Her body. Her head hung upside-down on the wall, saliva coating her beautiful feminine mouth and face, her bared, gnashing teeth. Her eyes were wide with the tiniest pupils, insane with greed and pleasure and power as she ranted and screamed out a tremendous moan that forced them to cover their ears. That's when the worst possible suspicion came crashing down with the weight of reality. Levi stammered: "It's not an island... It's a titan!" Mikasa put her hand over her mouth, sucked in her breath and refused to breathe, even though her heart raced. Eren was hyperventilating, salivating uncontrollably. He turned around and looked at her, soaked with sweat and spit, a stark image on that immense landscape of pure, raw, impossibly shredded, inhuman muscle. His eyes were full of desire, hypnotized by powerful pheromones and scents and odors. A lust unlike anything he'd ever felt before seized up his whole body. A throbbing shape rose behind him out of the top of the guttering chasm: red hot and pink and glistening, a clitoris bigger than any tower. (end of part 1) (read more at patreon.com/pumpculture)
  8. CW: muscle growth. Four years since she'd met Joel. Four years in isolation together. In four years, the old man had shaped her, molded her, redefined her into a survivor. Their world was harsh, she had to be harsher. Ellie struggled to catch her breath, leaning against the tiled wall, staring at her reflection in the shattered spiderweb of the restroom mirror. A survivor... The hardness of her eyes betrayed the gentle youth of her face, still the face of a young girl, although she had blossomed into a woman. The contrast couldn't be starker. All of the ugliness, death, and violence she had witnessed in her short life left stains behind her bright green irises. In two more years, she would turn twenty, but her gaze indicated a memory older than her pouting lips, rounded cheeks, light eyelashes, and cute nose appeared. And yet that wasn't Ellie's only contradiction. There was the first thing anybody noticed: her over-pumped, bloated, rugged, hideously muscular body. Joel had taken the freckled teen and turned her into a battleship of a woman. Heavy drops of her sweat dripped from the rivulets slithering between her muscles, falling and tapping on top of the sink beneath her like bullets. Her green eyes took in her impossible physique and she suddenly wondered how this had happened, how she could have transformed her pain into agony into power. Her body ached constantly. It felt almost as if her bones were being pulled apart as her once thin body continued to pack on more and more mass. When would it stop? When would the torturous workouts end? When could she stop pushing for more? Every day she told herself it was enough. Every day she relished breaking new records. Her eyes ravished the grotesque, quivering ribbons of her pecs, so hopelessly muscular that they ensured she would never have the soft luxurious breasts of a woman... and she nearly sobbed over the ugly vascularity, the rope-thick veins bunching over every inch of her barely clothed chest, her old striped shirt torn to appropriate shreds over her muscles that were in just about the same state. The worn out threads looked as if they were being forced apart by her heaving chest, so incredibly jacked that their sick vascularity shook with awful tremors with her every movement. If not for the mirror, and the gift of leaning forward, she could hardly see past those twin boulders stuck on her chest, each pectoral fighting for space with nowhere to go but outward. She had worked them so hard over the years that each pec was wider across than her shoulders were when she was younger... (access the full story and the entire library at patreon.com/pumpculture)
  9. PumpCulture

    Goddess of War - part 3

    CW: muscle growth, breast expansion, godhood, fantasy violence. (read parts 1 and 2) "Power Girl!" Supergirl choked, eyes full of horror, "W-what happened to you?" "Shut up! I can't stand being called Power Girl! Most of all by you," the pumped up kryptonian goddess gnashed her teeth, "I am WAR!" She put her fists on her hips, flexed her lats and pecs. Huge folds of strength undulated beneath her white costume, practically painted on over all that garish, gruesome muscularity. The gold cord and buckle that secured her now tiny cape around her shoulder had begun to fray. Supergirl actually staggered back at the sight of her kinswoman, now bloated nearly beyond recognition with muscle, curved horns and metal helmet gleaming on her head. As if sensing her fear, the Goddess of War's body flexed harder, harder, blowing out a gasp of air and holding her red-faced breath as veins slithered over vascularity cut to shreds. It was inhuman. It wasn't even kryptonian. Supergirl actually thought about flying away at top speed to go for help. "How did you get like this...?" The Goddess of War exhaled, thrust a gigantic arm at the limp, nearly lifeless body of Wonder Woman at Supergirl's feet. The once proud princess of the Amazons was skeletal, sapped until gaunt. Her hair white instead of black, her skin a pale gray, she weakly regarded Supergirl standing over her, voicelessly pleading for help, while glancing back at Power Girl with envy. "Her!" War began, "She tried to keep this from me. She, like the rest of her precious league, thought she could keep the power of war for herself and continue to look down on the rest of the world from her watchtower. Well no more! I am done being looked down upon. The status quo is over." She began to flex a single bicep, watching it rise and rise. "I will become so huge... so massive... so powerful..." her bicep was tearing open the arm of her costume, splitting the seams, tearing rents that traced from its peak down to her swollen tricep, "so unstoppable that everyone will have no choice but to look up to ME." "No... stop... this isn't you," Supergirl begged, almost shaking in her red boots. War glanced at her sideways, smirked. Supergirl gasped and put a hand over her heart, the look War gave her dripped with sexual rage. "When they look up in the sky, they won't see a bird or a plane, or him..." War's blue glove creaked as her bicep pierced her sleeve with a noisy rip, bigger than a volleyball, absolutely engorged with pale blue veins like those in marble, "...when they look in the sky, they will see me. Only me. I will fill the Earth and the skies, and I won't stop there. I'll seize the power of war from this planet, and then the next, and the next," her greed caused her heart to race. She salivated at the thought. Her pussy tingled and ached with the sling of her costume pulled tight into her camel toe. A wave of pleasure and desire rocketed through her insane body, tightening all of her muscles like a spring. "...Growing bigger and stronger, bigger and stronger... FOREVER." The Goddess of War shot off the ground, flying directly toward Supergirl, who had less than a moment to react. Startled, Supergirl leapt into the air like a tiny sparrow before a giant eagle. War passed through the empty space in a streak of white and red and gold. Supergirl peered down from several miles above the ground but Power Girl was nowhere in sight, and then she felt a tug on her cape. She had no time to turn around. The Goddess of War pulled hard and threw Supergirl at blazing speeds over the continent, where her body pierced one of the peaks of a snowy mountain range. Supergirl stood up from the crater even as it began to form. Her ears stung with the searing shriek of Power Girl's body cutting through the air, hurtling toward her like a white meteor. With a fraction of a second to respond, Supergirl leapt again, blasting twin beams of burning light from her eyes. The blue heat vision hit the Goddess and she stopped, raising a hand to get the solar lasers out of her face. Then she gathered herself and hurtled toward Supergirl, who dodged again. "Kara, stop!" Supergirl screamed. She clenched her eyes, cutting off the heat vision, while also narrowly escaping the Goddess's fists my a few centimeters. She free-fell to get behind her adversary. War followed, diving faster than Supergirl could predict. Their bodies connected with a thunderclap that shattered the nearby mountainsides even as Supergirl's body penetrated the earth beneath Power Girl's accelerating bulk. Earth and ash blasted from the rent in the ground. A moment later, another chasm opened up, followed by the blast of a winter hurricane. Power Girl's immense body flung backward into the air out of the pit and Supergirl soon followed, emptying her lungs with a mighty gust of her frost breath. The Goddess of War crossed her arms in front of her body to withstand the hurricane, not unlike Wonder Woman once did with her demolished amazonian bracelets. In fact, energy began to coalesce about War's wrists. Power Girl saw it and her wince at the ice building up over her body turned into a greedy grin. "No more tricks, Supergirl," she laughed. War roared as she tightened her fists and flexed her arms, before unleashing a shockwave from her wrists. The shockwave ripped through Supergirl's frost breath and collided with her, a ringing, shrieking, dizzying cacophony, throwing her back into the earth. Power Girl was relentless, upon her again. Supergirl could hear the immense muscle fibers bunch up and tense then release, like the sound of a crack of a whip to her ears. Power Girl's fist connected with her face, driving her head down into solid granite. Power Girl hit her again before Supergirl could throw her arms up and engage her flight. This time, Supergirl drove right into her, blasting up into the stratosphere with a trail of stones and ice behind them. They were past Earth's atmosphere in mere moments, Supergirl yelling as she poured on the power. Power Girl's body was bent nearly in half, pecs and breasts filling Supergirl's vision. The Goddess of War tried to get a grip on her foe, reached for the cape, but Supergirl was already prepared, diving below her pumped up body, grabbing her ankles and diving back toward the planet in an arcing spin. Fire leapt around them as they broke back into the atmosphere, falling faster than gravity could pull them. Then Supergirl let go. Power Girl's fall cracked open the sky. Thousands of kilometers and mere seconds later, she pierced the surface of the Pacific. A torrent of boiling water erupted where she hit the sea. Supergirl pursued her across the curvature of the Earth with her biggest blast of heat vision, bellowing at the top of her lungs. "How could you make me do this, Kara?" her voice echoed through the zenith, "We were sisters! We're both kryptonian!" And then in the midst of the solar rays, a huge arm raised from the sea, blue glove and white sleeve hanging in tatters. Supergirl's telescopic vision saw that Power Girl's enraged face followed. The Goddess balled her fist and sliced the ocean, cutting through Supergirl's heat vision, connecting with its individual particles. There was a deafening explosion and a flash that turned night into day on that side of the world as the Goddess of War's punch deflected Supergirl's heat vision. No way she was ready for that. Supergirl's own heat vision collided with her like a cannonball of energy, knocking her out of the upper atmosphere, barely conscious. Power Girl was upon her in a moment, a tidal wave pursuing her flight into the air. The Goddess of War grabbed Supergirl and put her in a chokehold, scissoring her head behind her flank and bicep, the muscle on her arm bigger than Supergirl's head. The two kryptonian women fell together onto a deserted island in the tropics, shrouded in night, the sun on the other side of the planet where their battle had begun. Sand and debris burst into the air where their crater formed. Power Girl tightened her grip, beaming with pride. Supergirl tried in vain to free herself, tearing at Power Girl's arm, attempting to bend even her fist under her neck. Supergirl even got her powerful legs on the back of Power Girl's but she couldn't hope to budge her, an immovable statue of gleaming metal and ivory. Finally, she gave up. Her body went limp, and she didn't quite understand why just yet. "Kara..." her formerly feminine voice rasped, "K-Kara? Please, if there's... any way you... you can hear me... D-don't kill me... Don't kill me..." Supergirl felt the tremors of Power Girl's cruel laughter resound through her massive, muscular tank of a body. Supergirl managed to turn her head and look up at her, greeted by the sight of her bulging hip, her bare abs, revealed by rips in her costume, shredded beyond belief, the bottoms of her pecs and her humungous breasts, like the prow of a ship, obscuring the Goddess's face. Supergirl felt humiliated beside such a magnificent display of physical strength. She felt her heart sink within her, like she was less of a woman, less of a kryptonian compared to such perfection. War ceased her laughter. "I'm not going to kill you, dear cousin. You saw what I did to Wonder Woman." She tightened her grip. "I'm going to do the same thing to YOU!" She began laughing once more, a beautiful, elegant but immensely cruel sound. Supergirl's ears ached at that sound, then the ache flooded her body. The ache turned to pain which turned to suffering, sweat, nausea, shivering, fevers, icy chills. Still Power Girl held her as the smaller kryptonian's power flowed into her, forcing her already immense body to expand just to fit all that additional, superfluous life. Supergirl's eyes went wide. Her super hearing took in all the microscopic, frightening details: every thread in Power Girl's costume screaming as they snapped and split; every fiber in Power Girl's body agonizingly tearing, redoubling, tearing, growing, tearing, rebuilding; every bone in Power Girl's skeleton shattering and reforming, healing instantly, lengthening at the molecular level; every synapse in Power Girl's head firing louder and louder; every cell in Power Girl's flesh enduring a new flood of health, drinking up solar radiation from another kryptonian instead of the yellow sun; every vein expanding with gushing blood. Supergirl could hear Power Girl's heart pounding faster and harder than any heartbeat she'd ever detected before. She could hear nearly every ounce of fat Power Girl possessed sizzling out of existence except for in her face and breasts, which began to swell like beachballs being overfilled with air, accompanied by a sound not unlike latex stretching. The Goddess of War squeezed her captive tighter, as if to squeeze the last juice out of a grape. Her free hand, blue glove gone except for a torn remnant of fabric at her wrist, filled Supergirl's vision. Power Girl's fingers cupped Supergirl's face, pinched her cheek playfully and caressed the blonde tresses of her hair. "Shhh don't cry," the Goddess cooed mockingly, "All you have to do is give everything to me, all of your power." And then she moaned with utmost satisfaction, running her hands from her trembling, twitching, aching pussy--at which Supergirl gawked with a mixture of disgust, jealousy, and pure lust, despite herself--tracing her fingers over each tumefied muscle of her abs. Every muscle lining her waist throbbed and with each throb became further defined. Veins dumped blood into them as the cuts between them deepened, going from bloated to shredded and back again, becoming ever more extreme with every crunching moment. As Supergirl's keen kryptonian vision took in their perfection, she thought about using her heat vision one last time but imagined those abs could already cut diamonds. "Ohh Rao yesssss..." Power Girl groaned sensually as wave after wave of powerful growth hit her. "YES! More power than I ever DREAMED of!" Supergirl felt the chokehold getting tighter not from her cousin holding her any more violently, but merely from the force of her growing muscles. The bicep pressed tight against her head began to fill her peripheral vision. Held flat against her ear, Supergirl could hear the supernovas of strength exploding inside of it, pushing it past belief. Then came the noises of the fabric again, giving up. Power Girl's costume had finally had enough. Her sleeves burst, unleashing a torrent of muscle that looked as if it had been chiseled out of Nth metal. Beneath her, Power Girl's feet hovered over the earth at the ends of legs overcrowded with so much muscle they looked like the flanks of cows covered with a layer of creamy skin holding on for dear life. Above her, Power Girl's ludicrous chest, overinflated beachballs perched on pecs each more than a foot thick, ripped her sling-bikini style costume clear in half as if her chest were the bucket of a bulldozer ripping raw earth straight out of the ground. Now free, her magnificent gravity-defying mammaries bounced irresistibly, perfectly round, the final bits of white fabric hanging over their tops. Her growth had rendered her costume--made for a much smaller, much slimmer, far less busty superheroine--into a cut off top, bearing her artisan midriff and utopian underboobs. Supergirl would've swooned if she wasn't already fainting. "You have no idea how this feels, do you?" the Goddess of War said between heavy, satisfied breaths, "You have no clue what true power is like. Neither of us did, just a few hours ago. Or maybe... now you know what it feels like?" Power Girl reached down and grabbed Supergirl's head like a football, pressing her face against her abs. Supergirl had no strength left to fight back, scraping her cheek against skin that felt like a coating of perfumed velvet over tungsten. "Can you feel that?" the Goddess chuckled, "Is there enough feeling left in your dried up ass to appreciate what is happening to me? You have the privilege of witnessing the birth of a new god, up close and personal! Can you even begin to grasp in your rapidly draining brain what I'm turning into, a kryptonian queen married to the god of war combined with the strength of the amazons and Olympus in one being? You drooling, pathetic, revolting waste of flesh, touch me and touch raw power!" She flexed, a deafening explosive sound, her body responding with one more burst of growth, pumping even larger. "Look at me, you blonde piece of shit!" the Goddess sneered, "Look at all this strength and worship it! Worship this body!" The Goddess of War balled a fist under Supergirl's neck, gripping the fabric of her suit that hung from her in loose wrinkles, lifted the tiny, flat-chested, waif of a blonde up above the horizon of her own immense bust, the radiance of her face dawning over that massive chest, framed by mountainous traps and shoulders like foothills and by the helm of war, transformed again into liquid gold that flowed from her head like hair and fire. New horns, six in total, curved directly out of Kara's skull, lined with opals and gemstones, a wild array of animalistic strength not unlike the serpentine hair of the gorgon. In the same energy, Kara's eyes were two holes that peered into the depths of a burning white star, seemingly able to render any man into not just stone but pulverized dust. Her eyes whipped slivers of spectral light around their edges like newly effulgent eyelashes. She pursed her full lips, shimmering with opalescent rainbows, in utter ecstasy and delight. The sight of Power Girl's unspeakably gorgeous face was blinding to Supergirl's tear-blurred eyes as the face of a celestial looked into the face of a crumpled wretch. The contrast between them couldn't be any starker. It was as if the ugliest insect had been dropped headfirst into the cauldron of the sun. "LOOK! Look at me! See what I have become? The strongest, most powerful being on Earth! Humanity will weep at the sight of me! I am Wonder Woman! I am Supergirl! I am Power Girl no longer... I am Mars, Ares, bloodlust, WAR!" And with the final zap of electricity siphoned from Supergirl's body, the transformation was complete. Power Girl had absorbed all the power she possibly could from her cousin without ending her life, dooming her to survive to witness her reign. But then, a small, pitiful sound filled Power Girl's ears which could hear every noise on Earth at once. "...Kuh-" "What did you say? You dare to speak to the Supreme Goddess of War, the Queen of New Krypton?" Power Girl's divine anger threatened to blast the meat right off of Supergirl's brittle bones. Then came the words again, slow, pained, desperate. "Kh-... Kal..." Supergirl whispered. The memory that Superman still lived and breathed possessed the Goddess's mind with a jealousy and greed few living beings could begin to comprehend. Her face coiled into a platinum mask of covetousness and hatred. The world's beloved, the first superhero... her eyes licked and lashed iridescent flames at the thought of him. "Yes... Kal-El. The Superman. The Man of Steel... I can melt steel with my very presence. They call him the Man of Tomorrow. He hasn't yet met the greatest Woman who has ever lived and shall ever live." The Goddess of War smirked and the physics of time and space warped around her as she disappeared into the skies, instantly breaking every barrier of speed as she willed herself toward Metropolis, cradling Supergirl against her gargantuan breast. "Clark. Your time in the sun is over!" (end of part 3) (READ MORE on DeviantArt or unlock the full library of stories at Patreon)
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