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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. 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 )
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