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Black Cats

Sequel to Black Cat.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 1

Early Tuesday morning I was awoken by the feeling of a pair of firm tits straddling my left thigh, a hard dick against my right foot and tongues licking my ironwood hard morning erection and pomegranate-sized balls. As I laid on my back with my eyes closed and soaked up the worship of the sister and brother I thought about all those fantastic things that happened to me in the past week. This whole adventure started last Monday when I found a little black cat in an alley downtown. When I picked up, cradled the purring furball in my arms and saw the beautiful electric blue eyes lovingly looking up at me I knew that I would do anything to keep her safe. I took the cat to a downtown veterinarian school for a check up and adopted Brenna, that’s what the vet named her, as soon as her exam was finished. After my long term cheat’n bitch of a girlfriend walked out on me later in the week I found out that Brenna was actually a kind of therianthrope; a being that can shapeshift into any form she chose.

I uttered a moan from deep in my chest and put my big hands behind my head as I basked in the sensations emanating from my monster cock. I opened my eyes and looked down. The first thing I saw were my magnificent pecs. I had to lift my head to look over my overpowered hyper-masculine chest to see my ten pack abs and shredded obliques. I flexed and squeezed every muscle and watched as my pecs turned into hemispherical boulders with a deep vertical crevasse and each segment of my abs rose to stretch the thin skin and thick veins covering them. The two bodies covering my legs were raised by my massive quads and hamstrings. “Oh, fuck Bruce,” Brenna moaned. She kept her cat eyes and ears while taking the shape of an ultra-muscled sexy human female. “mmmm, I love it when you do that.” I felt her pussy against my shin leak a copious amount of cunt juice and drank in the rush of lust she emanated.

You see, I wasn’t always the pinnacle of masculinity. Just a few days ago I was a 26 year old, short, obese, balding 9-to-5 office drone at an accounting firm in downtown Madison, right next to the capitol. The most exercise I ever got was doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out why a client thought it would be a good idea to try to claim their new Lamborghini as a business expense when they owned a small deli that barely broke even in West Towne Mall. That all changed Friday night. Brenna did something to me that allowed me to capture and store emotional energy directed at me. I can use this energy to change myself; increase height, gain muscle mass, grow stronger and slightly change my appearance. Hell, I can even make my balls large enough to produce gallons of cum and my cock into a telephone pole. To reward Brenna for the delicious pre-breakfast emotion drink I added an inch of length and girth to my cock. She responded appropriately by loudly purring, unhinging her jaw and greedily taking my glans deep down her throat.

Not only had Bre changed me physically, she also tweaked my psyche, amplifying my Id. This change allowed me to become the dominant personality I always yearned to be. Then early Saturday morning, she sent me off to Madtown Fitness, a gym on the south side by the beltline, to test my new body. There I broke my limits, both physically and mentally. I exceeded any physical expectation I had as I crushed all house lift records. Took any throat, pussy or ass I wanted. Exerted my dominance over everything and everyone. With one very painful exception, it was a fucking amazing day. 

“Oh, Gods, Daaaddy. That’s hot. That’s sooo fucking BIG.” Arthur, Brenna’s brother, whimpered into my scrotum between licks with a long, wide, soft dog tongue. Bre’s lips curled into a smile around my cock as I chugged his submission and rolled my eyes. I remembered how I met Art when I came home from the gym late Saturday night. Bre said he was an ex-boy friend that was in need of punishment. So I, now an uber dominant personality, made my physique explode. I must have grown well over seven feet tall and weighed over six hundred pounds, all muscle. I would have looked like a caricature of an over-the-top muscle bound freak if I didn’t have an extremely dangerous looking, three foot long, ten inch thick, rock hard cock sticking straight up from a low hanging scrotum containing testicles the size of a fastpitch softball. I ravaged Art’s throat and ass. I beat him to within an inch of death without realizing it. To save him I had to blow the whale sized load of cum. Consequently, Art says that now more than half of his DNA is from me, ergo, I’m his father.

Yeah. That’s what I said, too.

‘Get our lazy ass up! Remember, I got a text last night from Keena saying we have a physical examination and lab work that has to be done before eight o’clock this morning or you can’t start work tomorrow,’ I heard in my head. That was another change. While meeting with Dr. Keena Panthera, the gym’s owner, Saturday the resident muscle head, Terry “Zapp Brannigan” Limppernoodle, attacked her. After I subdued the bastard she told me that he had sexually assaulted her, raped her. Even though I just met Keena that day, I felt an overwhelming instinct to protect her. Learning that she had been violated threw me into an uncontrollable rage.

That rage ended with me on a shower floor and in my own vomit. I had snapped both of Terry’s femurs like twigs, ripped his arms off, crushed his head between my hands like it was a paper cup and ripped his genitals off. I tossed the bloody dick and balls at Keena’s feet like a trophy. I don’t know why I did that. Maybe I subconsciously wanted to indelibly stamp my dominance and superiority on her.

My mom and uncle fought the last war. When my uncle returned he told me of fellow soldiers that were changed after their first kill, especially if it happened in hand-to-hand combat. I guess I changed that way, too. A part of me recoiled from the horror of what I did, splitting my mind into two equal and nearly opposite halves. The voice I just mentally heard calls himself Ego. He has an amplified intellect and is a fucking pain in the ass. He also can’t keep his pronouns straight.

‘I goddamn fucking asshole,’ Ego bitched. ‘I quit your job to work at the gym so he could fuck around all day long. Get my lazy ass out of bed!’ I reminisced about Sunday and Monday as I try to get my legs out from under my worshipers.

Saturday night my BFF with benefits, Deb, the maniacal Uber driver, aimed me at a bored wife of a supplements company executive. On Sunday I met the wife and the couple’s maid in their mansion on Lake Mendota’s north shore. I found that not only did the husband have impeccable taste in cars and women, he also was having an affair with, and beat, the petite French maid. The next day, after proving my superiority in every way, impregnating the wife and making him a submissive cuck, I ripped away from him the things he loved the most (in reverse order); his wife, his mistress, his company and his W Motors Lykan HyperSport.

Let me say right now that the irony of me owning a car named after a human that can change into a wolf is not lost on me.

Art lifted his head from my balls. I was greeted with a big, panting, corgi face. Arthur’s ears wiggled as he said, “Are you gonna fuck me in the shower, Daddy? I’ve been a veeery bad doggy.”

Art’s dog breath hit my nose like a slice of lemon wrapped around a large gold brick, “Geez, Art! Your breath stinks! What the hell, have you been licking your ass again?”

Art tilted his head to the side the way dogs do when you try to explain the symmetrical beauty of double entry accounting. “No,” he replied. “I’ve been licking yours.”

Brenna chuckled while I moaned and gruffly commanded, “Get off me and brush your fucking teeth!” He whimpered and gave me puppy-dog eyes, but obeyed. He climbed off me and made his way to the bathroom with his tail between his legs. Literally.

Bre pulled my cock out of her throat. The head popped out of her mouth. “Oh, good. You’re all mine now,” Bre murmured just before taking my entire length, down to the root, in her throat. Her mighty neck muscles started to ripple against my unyielding god-rod.

I wanted nothing more than her servicing me for the rest of the day, but, as Ego said, I had things to do. “YOU need to make coffee and breakfast while I take a shower,” I declared. Her brow furrowed, eyes pleaded as she shook her head as best she could with a huge titanium rod stretching her esophagus and apple-sized glans in her stomach. I gripped the hair at the back of her head and started to pull her off me. “That wasn’t a request, cat.” At that she tightened her throat around my cock. Her neck muscles bulged, her traps thickened and rose up until they looked like steel I-beams and her back until it looked like an impenetrable mountain range as she fought against me. I smiled, took a drop of the emotional power I kept in reserve (stored somewhere off the Cayman Islands) and slowly pulled her off, easily overpowering her.

When my cock head popped out of her mouth and smacked my chest she breathlessly whined, “Pleeeease, Master. I need you. I need your cock!”

“Food now, play later,” I said as I rotated my shoulder and brought the 350 pound female bodybuilder, who could easily overpower a middle-weight state bodybuilding champion, to her back like she was a rag doll. While I still held her hair I propped myself up on an elbow and captured her jaw in my free hand. “Here’s a little taste for now,” I said. Then released her jaw, moved my hand slowly over her magnificent, firm breasts. I tweaked a thick nipple between my index and middle fingers, then stroked her brick wall abs and, finally, burried a finger in her sex. Her eyes rolled back as she moaned and gasped for air when I flicked her clit. She was writhing and on the edge of a powerful orgasm.

Then I stopped.

She hissed and punched my shoulder with enough power to blast a hole in a foot thick solid steel wall. My deltoid only dented a little bit. “Now get going and I might buy you a toy mouse later,” I teased and released her hair.

She rolled off the bed and massaged the hand that punched me. With a look of lust, fury, resignation and pointing a finger at me she said, “That better be one hell of a mouse, buddy.” She turned and picked up the button down shirt I wore yesterday. As she shrugged the shirt on I noticed that her back almost filled up the garment that could barely contain me. She lifted the front of the shirt and took a deep breath as she turned back to me. Her breasts pushed the shirt open, revealing her large, firm breasts, deep cleavage and ruggedly segmented abs. Her nipples grew hard, denting the fabric, her lower abs started to powerfully flex, her expression like a predator ready to strike its prey. “Fuck,” she moaned. “I can still smell you on this.” I growled and jabbed a finger at the bedroom door. She scowled and cat-walked, her glutes flexing and rolling against each other, out of my bedroom as her face assumed a more human visage.

I laid for a few seconds more, then rolled out of bed. I yawned, raised my arms above my head and stretched to work out all the kinks in my sleepy mountains of muscle. I heard my back crack (twice), my sternum pop and heard Art still brushing his teeth. The urge to urinate was strong, so I willed my raging cock to settle down. It deflated as I moved towards the bathroom and immediately stubbed my foot on the corner of the bed. Cursing and promising for the 1,001st time to rearrange the furniture, I limped to the bathroom.

Art was getting ready to spit into the sink when I moved up behind him. I studied the contrast of body types I saw in the mirror. Art morphed from a human/corgi mix into a complete human with the appearance and physique of an average height twenty year old blond, blue-eyed, olympic swimmer. I could see the well toned muscles roll and flex as he bent over the sink to spit as he shifted his weight between his strong legs. When he stood up the top of his head reached the bottom of my chin. His adequately developed chest had wisps of blond hair above a decent six pack. I applied a little emotional power to pack on tens of pounds of muscle and increase my height until his head was below my chest. I proportionally grew the rest of my body, except for my cock. Then I lengthed and thickened it too until I had a baseball bat swinging between my knees. After that I took a half step forward, pinning his narrow pelvis between me and the vanity. I thrust my chest forward, brought my arms up into a double bi pose and flexed. The bathroom vanity lights glinted off my hairless scalp and chest. A weekend’s growth of thick whiskers gave my face a rugged appearance. My traps, delts and pecs grew to insane proportions. My biceps, already big, grew to dwarf Art’s head. I gritted my teeth, growled and squeezed harder. The already apparent striations deepened into crevasses as the superficial veins that criss-crossed my body like a road map tried to burst through my skin. The two heads of each bicep grew and separated, causing a vein filled valley to form from my deltoids to my pronator tres and brachioradialis. Art’s eyes grew wide, his mouth slack and he moaned as he leaned back into me. I think I even saw a little bit of saliva escape the corner of his mouth. He started leaking below too.

Next to me, Schwarzenegger and Colman look like they don’t even lift. I AM the Greatest Of All Time.

“Oh, fuuuuck, Daddy,” Art moaned as he flexed his ass against my cock. His strong glute muscles gave me more than enough friction stimulation to bring me to erection. “Do me right here. I don’t care if you rip me in half. Please, just fuck me.”

I broke the pose and palmed Art’s head, my hand nearly encompassed his skull, and slammed the side of his head against the mirror. A network of spider web cracks appeared under him in the mirror. Even though he whimpered from the pain, I could feel the overwhelming lust and pleasure pulsing off him. I soaked up every drop of that, sending it to my reserves as I caused my cock, which was now the size of his calf, to become harder and cleave Art’s glutes, lifting him off his feet. I leaned in and gave him a predatory snarl, hot breath against his ear and I said, “If I did that, I’d have to blow an even bigger load than last time to bring you back. Then Bre would pound us both to pulp. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

A weak, “uh-huh” escaped his lips as his hips started bucking against me and the vanity. He was about to cum from the mere suggestion of so much agony. I gave him a second or two of that mental image before I released his head, stood straight and stepped back. He barely caught himself before he fell to his knees.

“Start my shower,” I ordered. Then I moved to stand over the toilet and relieved myself.

It took a moment for Art to realize I issued an order. When he pulled his head away from the mirror I saw that he left a few drops of blood and a sweaty impression of an ear and cheek on the fractured mirror. He gazed upon my infinitely superior physique with a mixture of anger, lust and anticipation and whined, “You’re a fucking tease, you know that?” and punched my back as he passed behind me and into the shower. “Owww! Fuck!” he said and turned the handle. I heard the water cascade out of the shower head and Art yelling, “GODS DAMN this water is COLD!”

As I relieved myself I happened to glance at my toothbrush in its holder beside the sink. “Art, did you use my toothbrush?”

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind,” he said. He stuck his head out of the shower and continued, “Dog saliva is very hypoallergenic,” and licked the inside of one of his nostrils with a long dog tongue. 

I grumbled, flicked off the last drop of urine into the toilet and flushed. I leaned against the wall next to the shower and counted my fingers, waiting for the water to become scalding hot.

As usual, right on the count of five Art screams, “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” and bolted out of the shower. I grabbed his neck before he got too far and threw him back into the shower. The house shuddered as he was driven into the shower wall. I ducked my head under the bar that holds the shower doors as I stepped into the stall. Then I turned the shower handle a quarter turn towards cold and slid the door closed behind me.

Arthur looked at me with wide eyes and a slack jaw as my bulk almost filled the stall. I could feel the lust, pain and want cascading off of him. The delicious treat made me involuntarily flex my pecs against him, pushing him further into the wall. As the tile, drywall and wall frame cracked under him he said in a gasp, “Could you please not take up the entire shower?”

I was disappointed he phrased it that way. If he had said, “Make yourself smaller,” I would have given myself a hundred pounds of muscle, flexed everything and pushed him through the wall so hard he would have exploded into the next room. Instead, I compressed my height until the top of his head was just below my chin, just enough height that he'd have to crane his neck to look me in the eyes. I did that without losing any muscle; I looked even more fucking massive. Now that I could maneuver in the shower I grabbed Art by the neck, ripped him out of the wall and forcefully set his feet on the floor of the shower. “You will wash me. If you do a good enough job I might fuck you into next week,” I growled and shoved the bar of soap from the shower caddy that hung from the showerhead into his hands. I then bent my left arm and flexed the bicep. Razor cut striations jutted across the twin peaks of the muscle. I straightened my arm and flexed again, this time including the forearm in the flex. The already insanely huge muscles grew larger and harder as even the smallest superficial vein doubled in size and pulsed with unbridled power. Art, with eyes wide, started to soap my upper left arm.

“NO!” I barked. He flinched as if I had flicked a finger against his abs, expelling all air from his lungs and launching him across the room. He looked up timidly into my eyes. “Worship my might, worship the physique you dream about, worship the only true Alpha. Lick the sweat off me. Clean me with your tiny tongue. Then use the soap.” He instantly dropped the soap and started tonguing, kissing and caressing my massive arm. I gulped down each delicious drop his submission and want. He emanated so much I started to get drunk on the power I was soaking up. When I sent most of it to my reserves my head cleared and I felt Art sucking on my anterior delt head. “Grrrrrr! That’s it, little man. Show me how inferior you are,” I said menacingly, then grabbed the back of his head with my right hand and dragged his mouth to the downward pointing left nipple. “You love how I can, how I HAVE, ripped you apart without even breaking a sweat, don’t you?” I didn’t need him to say anything; I already knew the answer. He fucking loved it. I brought my left arm down, put his head in the crook of the elbow and flexed the left side. His mouth yielded to my incredibly hard pec as my bicep and forearm’s titanic brachioradialis and pronator teres bore into his skull. I kept increasing the pressure until I heard cracks and Art whimpering in pain. Then I released him.

He fell on his hands and knees to the floor. The shower head sprayed water against the back of my head. What water didn’t flow down my back was cascading off my pecs like Niagara Falls and pummeled his back and head. I clenched my hands into fists and slightly bent my arms while expanding my chest, flexing my arms, pecs and abs. I squeezed the muscles of my legs until they resembled the marble columns of a Greek temple. I looked down my nose at the pathetic excuse for a male at my feet. I am Colossus standing before a teenager. A teenager with an Olympic swimmer muscular body.

When Art finally looked up his eyes became as big as saucers. The head of my semi-hard summer sausage sized cock was an inch from his face. When he reached up to my cock I grabbed his hands “Please,” he pleaded. “I want...NEED your cock in me!” I could see his six inch dicklet was as hard as it could get over his inadequate balls.

I put his trembling hands on my cinder block abs. “I will NOT repeat myself,” I said in a low menacing voice. He almost cried in frustration as he slid his hands over my abs, down my adonis belt, over each bulging muscle group in my left quad’s rectus femoris, vastus lateralis and vastus medialis, then onto the gastrocnemius and peroneus longus, the two halves of my diamond shaped left calf. From there he licked two days worth of sweat and grime off every inch of me. I flexed and squeezed the muscle under Art’s mouth just to remind him how immensely powerful I am. After he tongue bathed both arms and armpits he placed his hands on my mountainous trapezius and stood on his toes to reach my neck. The sensation of his tiny body against my solid granite muscles started to arouse me. My rapidly hardening cock rising against his pintsized six pack made me groan. Thankfully Art finished his makeout session with my traps and neck quickly.

I turned around, flared the muscles of my back; trapezius, latissimus dorsi, rhomboid major and teres, major and minor. Calmly as I could, commanded, “Now my back. Start at the bottom.” I heard him drop to his knees and felt his hands on my hips as he buried his nose and tongue between unbreakable globes of my gluteus maximus. New sensations shot up my spine, ricocheted around my brain, back down my spine, bounced off my testicles, went up my cock and exploded in the glans. I involuntarily threw back my head and grunted as a literal pint of pre splashed against the shower wall. I saw two of the tiles crack after being hit with such pressure. Art must have noticed because he was taking his own sweet fucking time licking off any piece of shit I missed. ‘Shit,’ I thought. ‘I’m going to have to make sure he brushes his teeth again.’

‘Can’t me think of any better puns than that?’ Ego snidely interjected. ‘Tell him to fucking hurry it up.’

“Boy, if you keep that up there won’t be any cum left for your ass. Move up.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Art disappointedly replied. He licked, sucked and kissed up my wide, thick back until he swept the last speck of sweat off my trapezius at the back of my neck.

When I felt his pathetic little wee-wee against me I spun around to face him, grabbed his neck and lifted him off his feet. He must have weighed 200 pounds, but it felt like I was lifting a paper marionette. “Are you ready to get FUCKED, boy?!” I growled from deep in my chest.

He put his delicate hands on my pectoralis major, caressing them. “Yes, Daddy. Fuck your little boy.” His hands slid downward, over my ten pack abs. “Show me how an Alpha takes what He wants…” He started spreading the pre flowing from the meatus over the shaft, hand over hand, with another eight inches of cock exposed.  His hands couldn't even encircle half my girth. “...whenever He wants.” He then slid his right hand up and thumbed the sensitive spot on the shaft. The sensation made my pelvic floor and prostate clench, forcing a heavy blast of pre to splash against his abs and chest. Arthur scooped the emissions off with his right hand while still stroking my rod from base to tip with his left. He brought his cupped hand, completely covered and overflowing with sticky precum, to his mouth and drank. As he drained his hand of the clear, thick liquid, I felt his throat contract four times as he swallowed the goo. “And now I know,” he said with a quiet voice filled with lust and licentious inference, “what the mightiest Alpha on the planet and the last descendant tastes like.”

‘The WHAT?!’ Ego said loudly.

‘SHUT. THE FUCK. UP.’ I internally growled as I flicked my wrist, tossing and twisting this average height, muscular boy in the air. I caught the back of his head when it was facing me and drove it into the tile on the shower wall. Blood, bone and broken tile were blasted out from the crater I created in the wall. Art’s legs were instantly swept aside as my fully engorged cock rammed up into my totally helpless prey. With my cock supporting all his weight I released his head and put him into a Full Nelson hold, both of my hands were thrust under his arms, then I pressed against the back of his neck. As I pulled him away from the wall I saw blood splashing the destroyed tile; I must have crushed his nose. When I thrust up his weak hole he hooked his ankles around my dorsal calves and started to caress the rock-solid muscle. Now that I had him completely under my control I teased the fuck out of him by slowly and repeatedly only penetrating him with the glans. Still, he grunted from each breach of his rectum.

“Fuck me...come on!”, he pleaded. “Fuck...grunt..me..aieee!...HARD!” I drew a devilishly evil grin as I did exactly not that. For minutes I teased this boy cunt as he begged louder and louder until he was screaming at the top of his lungs. “FUUUCK MEE! HURT MEE! GODS DAMMIT PUNISH ME!!” Suddenly rage blasted off of him, he unhooked his feet from my legs and planted them on the shower wall. Huge claws exploded out of his toes and heals, fracturing the tile as they were buried deep in the wall. Each of his legs grew thicker than my waist with impossibly huge thighs. In an inhuman voice he bellowed, “I SAID HURT ME!” I could feel his rectum constrict around my cock tighter than any hole I’ve ever had, squeezing down and painfully compressing my shaft. “FUCK ME HARD!” Then he thrust back. I was slammed into the wall under the shower head. I felt the tile behind me fracture as his tight hole forced its way down my cock. I heard tearing sounds and saw his ass rupture. His copious blood provided a little bit of lubrication, but not enough; it felt like the skin on my shaft was being rubbed off. He kept screaming in a sound that shouldn’t come from any living thing, “PUNISH ME!”. When his ass finally impacted my root, faster than I could see, he pulled off and rammed back down. Between his battering assaults I saw my cock distend and almost rupture his abdomen several times.

If he kept this up any longer he was going to fuck himself to death.

When he was within reach I hooked my right elbow around his neck and clasped hands. “Arthur! You have to stop this!” I yelled. He bucked like a bronco, I almost lost my grip twice before I was able to squeeze and restrict the blood flow in his carotid artery. Just before he passed out he entire body tensed up, his rectum almost ripped my cock off. A blast of cum blew tile off the shower wall in front of us. Then he slowly went limp and I lowered him to the floor. When my cock popped out of him, blood geysered out of him and down the shower drain. I stood up and looked down at him. His face was a mass of shredded skin, broken bone and blood, yet I could see the devastation on his face already healing. My cock looked no better. It was red, swollen, covered with his blood and shit and hurt like hell. As I rinsed off I applied some power to heal myself. By the time I finished Arthur was whimpering in his sleep.

‘What the hell just happened?’ I asked Ego.

‘You have no idea. I better get him in bed. Let him sleep,’ he replied.

I picked up Arthur off the shower floor and cradled him in my arms. As I took him to the bed he softly cried, “I’m sorry...I tried…not my fault...forgive...” He immediately went into a fetal position when I laid him down on the bed. He let out a sigh when I brought the comforter over him as, somehow, a large brown teddy bear appeared in his arms.

I went back into the bathroom and found a fresh toothbrush under the sink. After unpacking the toothbrush I gazed at my stubble covered cheeks and jaw in the mirror. It had been three days since I last shaved. I rubbed a hand along my jawline; I kinda liked the way this protobeard made me look. I decided to keep it. As I brushed my teeth, Ego said, ‘I don’t like the way he seeks pain. There’s something terribly wrong with him. Why does he feel he needs to be punished?’

‘I don’t know,’ I mentally replied. ‘Whatever it was, it couldn’t be healthy for him to feel that way.’

“Are you two almost done?” I heard Bre yell from the kitchen. “You had the hell better not let all this food go to waste or I’ll barf a hairball in your shoes!”

And I know she would. I exited the bathroom, expanded myself to the height I was earlier, packed on twice the muscle and walked towards the bedroom door leading to the hallway, looking at Arthur calmly lying on the mattress as I passed the bed. The comforter roiled and bulged in ways a human could never cause. I looked up just in time to bash my forehead on the top of the doorframe.

‘Smooth move, dude,’ I heard mockingly in my head.

“Will you FUCK OFF!” I yelled aloud.

“You had the HELL better not be talking to me, buster!” I heard from the kitchen.

I grumbled, ducked my head and started down the hallway to the sun drenched kitchen. Rubbing my forehead I said, “I’m not. I just bashed my forehead on the door frame.” When I entered the kitchen Brenna was right at my side, guiding me to a chair at the kitchen table. As I sat (and the chair creaked under my weight) my mouth started watering from sight and scent of the food overflowing the table; eight three-egg omelettes (four cheese, mushroom & bacon and four veggie), a stack of twenty pancakes smothered in real maple syrup topped with real butter, two pounds of bacon, three pounds of venison sausage (from my uncle), two loaves of whole grain and seed bread and, the pièce de résistance, a two full pound of cheese curds. 

I love those big chunks of cheese, especially how they squeak when you bite into them. Hey! I’m a Wisconsinite, don’t judge me!

Yes, I even have a Cheesehead Cheese Hat.

My hungry eyes were torn away from the feast before me by a pair of ultra strong female hands on my cheeks. “Let me see,” Bre said with concern and straddled my lap, the top of her head below my chin. The taste of that emotion was like taking a bite of an orange flavored strawberry. Interesting, but not as interesting as looking down her cleavage, deeply segmented abs and her little exposed clit. “Well, you’re a little red up there,” she motheringly said, “but I don’t see any permanent damage.“ She brushed my forehead with her hand and pieces of wood and gypsum board fell into my line of sight. “You probably hurt the wall more than it hurt you.”

“Speaking of hurting, did you hear Arthur and me in the shower.”

She tilted her head down and her sad eyes slowly moved from my forehead to my abs. She put her hands lightly on my trapezius, feelings of worry and doubt made bile rise in my throat. “Something long ago…” she snapped her eyes to mine without lifting her chin “...happened to him. He won’t talk about it, no matter how much I ask. I...I just try to emotionally support him...love him the best I can.” Tears started to fall from her eyes. “I just don’t know what to do.” I wrapped my arms around and clutched her to my chest. She began to silently sob.

‘Well, shit. There goes the mood,’ Ego lamented. I silently agreed with him and slowly made myself decrease in size and mass.

When Bre’s chin touches my collar bone, her puffy, tear streaked eyes meet mine and she sniffed. “Wha...what are you doing?”

“I thought that you wouldn’t be in the mood since…” I said quietly, gently.

“Oh, no you don’t you FUCKER!” she interrupted me, jabbed a hard finger into my sternum and exclaimed with all the ferocity of an IRS conducting a multi-year, twenty million dollar audit. “You fucking TEASED ME by making me suck you off ALL FUCKING NIGHT! I had to listen as you got tongue bathed and kissed all over your perfect body! Do you know how hard it was NOT to plunge my fingers up my cunt when I heard that?! Oh, you’re gonna fuck me, pal, and your gonna fuck me HARD! YOU WILL BE as big, as thick and as hard as you were when you walked in and YOU WILL pound me into submission! You’re gonna prove to me that you’re still my Master!” My cock rose against her ass in anticipation of feeling her hot, wet, tight hole and her admission of subservience. Her face then slowly went into the most evil grin I’ve ever seen and said, “But first you're eating all this food.”

I groaned and complained, “And I’m called a tease.”

“Yup!’ Bre laughed as she rose off my lap to stand beside me. She stood up on her toes, leaned forward, patted the top of my head and said, “I’m the queen Molly of teasing, baby. Now EAT!”

My stomach loudly growled as I picked up a fork and spoon and dug into the mountain of protein, carbs and fiber. I kept glancing at Brenna between shoving huge chunks of food in my mouth. She was still in my unbuttoned dress shirt, leaning her perfect, hard gluteus maximus against the kitchen counter and holding one of my biggest ceramic coffee mugs. It’s the one that says, “Accountants take accounting of their accounts.” Before you say ANYTHING, it was a UW graduation gift from my aunt. Every once and a while she would take a sip from the steaming liquid in the mug. A few seconds later she would sigh, tilt her head to the side and her eyelids would almost close. The liquid’s scent wafting in my direction smelled like mint and chamomile. I fucking HATE herbal teas. When I was a teenager I had to help my uncle with bailing hay at the farm. After a whole day of breathing in dust and alfalfa flowers the crap running down my throat tastes exactly like herbal tea.

Anyway, I finally shoveled in the last forkful of breakfast, leaned back in the chair and gave a hearty belch. “Now you have a choice, big boy.” Bre was still leaning back against the kitchen counter only now she had a huge stainless steel travel mug in one hand and her tea in the other. “Coffee…” she raised the travel mug “…tea…” she raised the ceramic mug “…or me?” She shrugged her shoulders, the button down shirt fell down to her elbows and waistline revealing a body that a heavy weight bodybuilder dreams of; tight waist, tendinous inscriptions that were three inches thick, shredded serratus anterior, latissimus dorsi that imitated a cobra’s hood, at least twenty-five inch upper arms, deltoids the size and hardness of bowling balls, trapezius that rose two-thirds of the way to her ears and pectorals that were hard and firm. If just those muscles were on a woman her size that woman would be considered pretty stacked. Brenna had those muscles AND incredible breasts with small brown areola and thick, inch long, nipples. Her torso supported by legs thick enough to squat a ton, yet shapely enough to give a guy whiplash as he turned his head for a second or fourth look. All this sculpted marble muscle on a five foot three inch frame made her look freaky...freaky sexy!

I locked eyes with her and, deliberately, slowly stood up. As I rose from the chair I made myself grow in height until Bre’s eyes were level with my navel. I flexed first my left bicep, then my right, then my cock, as I walked towards her. I made sure that each footstep made the house rattle. When my glans pressed into her impenetrable abs I raised my hand as if I was to stroke her cheek. She tilted her head in that direction expecting my touch. In the last instant, I grabbed the travel mug, downed the entire contents in two gulps, crushed the container and tossed the now useless scrap metal over my shoulder.

If you remember from our first (one-sided) conversation, you know that I can’t function in the mornings without a couple of cups of coffee in me.

While the caffeine worked its magic on the A1 and A2A receptors I advanced on my prey. Bre held up a finger and said, “Waitaminute,” and took a deep drink from her tea. Almost instantly her pupils dilated. She set the mug on the countertop behind her and reached up to put both of her muscled, veined, tiny hands on my pecs. Then she extended and dragged feline-like claws from the ends of her fingers across my taut skin. She took a step or two towards me, making my painfully hard cock rise up until it was nestled in her cleavage. “So, are you going to use this big thing to fuck me?” she seductively said. “Plunge it deep into my hot, wet cunt?” She started to slowly bounce her pectorals, making her breasts stroke my leaking cock. “I think you're just going to peter out, “she brought her elbows inward, using her upper arms to squeeze her breasts tighter, “just like the little boy you are.”

That did it. Now I was not just sexually aroused, but my dominance was thrown into question. Yes, I know she did that on purpose just to get me to fuck her hard. Well...it worked.

I growled as I grabbed her gluteus maximus and lifted her 350 pound weight above my head like she was a feather. I easily squeezed and spread those unbreakable muscles in my hands to expose her ass and pussy. It took me a second or two to properly line up my cock with her leaking hole, then I explosively brought her down. As soon as I felt her hot, wet lips against my glans I flexed my rectus abdominis and thrust up into her. Whether by design or not, she was so virgin tight that I was only able to get the glans and an inch of shaft into her. She threw back her head and screamed so loud I’m sure the neighbors would call the cops. Her hands clenched my trapezius hard. Her claws pierced my skin, but couldn’t penetrate the steel-hard muscle. I repeatedly pulled my cock out to the glans using my core muscles, then forced her to take another inch while I roared and she screamed at every fuck, “YOU THINK...” two inches in, pull out “...THAT THIS COCK...three inches in, pull out “...is a BOY’S DICK…” four inches in, pull out “THIS!” five in “IS” six in “A” seven in “MAN’S” eight in “COCK!” I rammed the remainder of my shaft into her as she started to scratch my back with those sharp claws.

I still hadn’t touched her cervix, she must have deepened her vagina just to tease me. I wasn’t in the mood for any of that. In the next thrust I lengthen my cock until I felt the entrance to her inner core. The next time I withdrew I packed on five more inches, two more inches in girth and hardened the organ until I could punch a hole through a three inch steel plate. Then I shattered her core with a single devastating ram. She threw back her head, her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she used every last molecule of air in her lungs to scream again. At the same time I roared into her face with victory and dominance. I looked down and saw two or three inches of shaft were not buried in her. That would not do. I forced in the final inches until I’m balls deep in the most exquisite pussy on Earth. I removed my left hand from her ass, brought my arm up, bent the elbow and flexed my bicep so big it made Colman’s arms look insignificant. I continued my devastation of her vigina and womb. I dropped my voice three octaves and, with each skewering thrust punctuating each word, said, “I...am...your...ALPHA...your...MASTER!” She grunted and cried out with every word. “Every...other...male...is...insignificant...next...to...ME!” She grabbed my incredibly hard, vein covered arm and threw her mouth onto my shoulder. She bit down as I felt her legs begin to spasm. “I...AM...A...YOUR…GOD!” With the last word I drop my voice into the infrasound level. That word couldn’t be heard, yet windows and plates rattled, the house creaked. Brenna screamed around the muscle in her mouth and explosively squirted a gallon of girl cum on my abs and legs.

Now that the natural order of things had been reestablished I lifted her off me and threw her against the kitchen counter in front of the sink and the window to the backyard. Her rectus abdominis shattered the marble countertop and bent the stainless steel sink. I waste no time in pinning her hands to the countertop at her side and ramming myself up her still quivering cunt. I took my time now, relishing each inch of her. While I slowly saw in and out of her I admired her shoulders and back. I ran a hand over her back. Her teres, major and minor, rhomboid major and infraspinatus almost rose above the larger trapezius and latissimus dorsi. Each muscle group was incredibly defined, stirated, thick and hard. She was the apex of muscular beauty.

And my blood boiled with testosterone as I broke her.

I cupped her chin and slowly pulled her head back. She resisted with all her considerable might, muscles flexed and pumped up with blood and superficial veins popped up under reddening skin. I could see her breasts swinging on her chest when her head met my upper abs. Her nipples were long, thick and diamond hard. I moved my hand down to her neck, slammed into her and demanded, “Who am I?” 

“AHHHHH!! You’re Bruce Banderole!” She squeezed her eyes shut.

I viciously ram up. “Wrong answer. LOOK AT ME!!”

Brenna eyes fly open as she grunts from the impact, “You...you’re my MMMaaasterrr!”

Again, I smash through her cervix and punch the far wall of her uterus. “Try AGAIN!”

“You’re the...the LAST ONE!!” she screamed as another orgasm racked her body and she crushed the marble countertop under her hands. Not exactly what I was working towards.

‘What the FUCK?!’ Ego interjected.

I ignored him and released Brenna’s neck. She fell forward into the sink. Her back was covered with sweat and she was breathing like she just finished a marathon. I, however, was breathing like I was sitting in a chair and no moisture appeared on my brow. I looked out the window and saw Fred Metzer holding a hose in his hand in his backyard. His hand was at his side as he was totally engrossed with the carnal spectacle I was giving him. The hose looked like his limp two inch dick. His mischievous son had crimped the hose causing the water pressure to fall. I seized Bre’s hair and lifted her head up so she could see Fred. “See that beta boy? See how limp his dick is?” She started breathing hard again. I released her hair and gave Fred the biggest fucking monster sized double bi flex he would ever see. His life changed forever; his eyes bugged out, he slouched and became the lesser male I always knew he was. Yeah, that’s right, boy. You’re a one, maybe two, on the male scale. I’m a one fucking hundred. “That’s what every other male is next to me.” I drank in the firehose of emotions Fred was directing at me; envy, submission and, wait a minute, need? That little fucker actually thinks I’d let him touch me. I gave him a little taste of what he would never have, never achieve; I bent my head down and licked a throbbing vein on a football-sized bicep. Brenna jerked and cried out when I took that power to thicken my already titanic cock, harden it until I could pulverize diamonds.

Fred finally noticed that the water wasn’t coming out of the hose and lifted it up to peer inside. His son chose that exact moment to release the pressure. The poor beta got a face full of water that blasted out of the hose. “And that happens every time those weakling BOYS see me fuck their women, claim their women, TAKE their women!” Her third orgasm hit her like a 10.0 Richter Scale earthquake. She pushed her hands forward, plowing through the two inch thick stone countertop as easily as you would push your hand through clay. When she comes down from the euphoria she’s so out of it that her trembling legs aren’t supporting her weight. The only thing keeping her upright is my cock.

I take a step backwards, pulling her away from the countertop. I let her leg dangle in midair for a few seconds, then I lowered my still mind blowingly hard cock. She slid down my cock to lay like a puddle of muscle on the kitchen linoleum. I reached down, grabbed her hair, yanked her to her knees, bellowed, “I’m not done with you yet!” and rammed my cock down her throat. It took a few seconds to come to and realize I was fucking her throat, but when she does, oooh man, she took over. Her tongue lashed and whipped every inch of cock that wasn’t in her throat, bobbed her head up and down my shaft so fast she became a blur. Under that assault it wasn’t long before I reached and shattered my own orgasmic threshold. I arched my back, threw back my head, shoulders and arms and flexed every single muscle cell in my entire body in an effort to blast my very essence through the little slit at the tip of my cock and roared. Brenna grabbed my hips and hung on for dear life as I erupted for five minutes down her throat.

She clawed at my legs as she slid down my satisfied cock. She purred when I looked down over my pecs at her. She eventually shifted herself to sit against the cabinet. She reached up and stroked my softening, yet still massive cock. “Feeling better now?” I said.

Brenna, my cat, said, “Hmmmm, maybe a little,” and smiled up at me. Bre then reached up and took the mug from the countertop. Somehow it had survived the destruction we wrought against the granite stone and sink. She took a sip and said, “Oooo yeah...that’s better.”

She complained as I took the mug out of her hand, held it to my nose and sniffed. Yeah, it definitely smelled like a thirteen hour day of bailing hay, yet there was something else in it...something familiar. “What the hell is this?” I asked Bre.

“It’s catnip tea,” Arthur said from the kitchen doorway looking only at his sister. Bre snatched the mug out of my hand and drained the remaining tea in one gulp. Art stood at five feet four inches tall and looked like a pale university freshman. His long brown hair hung over his hazel eyes and he was rail thin. The skinny jeans he wore were baggy, his dirty white shoes untied and his maroon wife beater shirt was three sizes too big. The shirt had a cartoon of Goldy Gopher, the University of Minnesota mascot, coming out of a hole in the ground giving a thumbs up. The caption, in a semicircle above the illustration, said, “GO MIGHTY GOPHERS!”

“She’s like you with coffee; needs it to start the day.” Bre looked up at me, nodded her head and giggled. “We sometimes like to keep part of the animal when we are human. I, for instance, just like every dog, likes…”

Bre perked up, raised herself on one arm while she pointed the mug at her brother. “Oh, no. DON’T YOU DARE say what I think you’re going to say!”

Undeterred Art continues “...to suck on a bone and lick some balls every once and awhile.”

I chuckled while Bre, who’s probably heard every pun Art has uttered, put her head in her hand, pinched the bridge of her nose and said, “Oh, gods dammit. I was just about to have a good day.”

“Anyway, remember that thing that happened four days ago?”

Bre immediately sobered up, turned serious, looked up to Art and put a trembling hand on my thigh. “Yeah,” she said, trying to hide the concern in her voice.

“I got a text. I have to do the thing. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll be gone for several days.”

I didn’t like the sound of this. I turned to face him and returned myself to my default setting, six foot six inches tall, on-season championship bodybuilder with a thick, uncut seven inch flaccid penis and testicles to match. “Arthur, about what happened in the shower,” I started to say.

“I won’t be able to contact you Bre...” he ignored and interrupted me. “...so don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” he said, then turned towards the front door and walked away.

“Whatever is troubling you...” Art stopped halfway to the door and stood still; his back tensed up. “...I know we can work it out together.” Without acknowledging my offer he continued to the front door. He turned the doorknob and threw the door open. Even before the door slammed into the adjoining wall, he was gone. The door bounced off the wall, only closing half way. From the time Authur entered the kitchen to when he left, I only felt darkness from him.

Bre walked up to my side. She slipped under my arm and wrapped her arm around my waist. Her free hand rested on my chest. Staring at the door I quietly said, “I’m worried about him.”

“I know.”

“He’ll be beaten to a pulp if the football team sees him in that shirt.”

“I’m more worried about what he’d do to them.” Bre then looked up, patted my chest and said, “Come on. You’ve got that human physical thing to do and it’s getting late.” She grabbed my hand, went up to the front door to close it then led me back to my bedroom where she proceeded to open my closet and rifled through my clothes. Three wardrobe changes later I’m wearing a tight red polo shirt, blue jeans and a pair of running shoes. Brenna had fastened all the buttons on the shirt. I immediately flexed my pectorals and trapezius, making the buttons burst off of me and ricochet off the walls. I looked down to see the canyon of my chest cleavage. She rolled her eyes and shoved me out the door. “Have fun, and don’t worry about the cum stains everywhere. I’ll lick them up!” she yelled after me and slammed the door. I turned around to get in the Lycan and saw old Ms. Chakancy, with her little white miniature poodle Killer on a leash, giving me an incredulous look.

I just looked at her as I walked to the car and opened the door, gave her an award-winning smile and said, “Don’t ya just love weekend long orgies?” and entered the car.

“Well, I never!” she exclaimed.

Ego snorted and said, ‘No shit lady. You probably couldn’t get laid giving blow jobs at a horny blind man's convention.’ 

‘Now, now, let’s be nice to the old bat,’ I internally replied, started the car and burnt rubber rocketing out of the driveway and onto the street.

‘Be nice! She calls the cops every time Debbie drives up with her stereo on!’ Ahh, yes. Deb does love her Norwegian Death Metal music at maximum volume. I get the mental impression of Ego taking a deep breath and calming himself down. ‘Alright. The doctor’s office in Verona. Due to my morning extracurricular activities...” he emphasized the word ‘activities’ ‘…the morning rush is over so it should only take I seventeen minutes to get there. The appointment is forty-five minutes from now so me have plenty of time. And what the fuck is this ‘You’re the last descendent’ and ‘You’re the one’ bullshit?’

I rolled my eyes and said aloud, “How the hell should I know and thanks, Siri.”

‘Oh, so I’m my digital assistant now, eh? In that case…’ and I’m forced to listen to knock knock jokes until, three miles later, in the middle of South Midvale Boulevard, the car backfired and rapidly lost power.

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Chapter 2

The Alien became sentient as It pressed Itself against the side of the crater and stared at the metal ball in front of It. The sphere’s hatch was wide open as vented fuel burned the vehicle and the surrounding soil. The Alien impassionately scanned the mangled container and surrounding area with It’s wet cameras.

It laid still and listened while searching It's damaged quantum memory core for any data on what It was, who It was. It’s multiple sets of wet cameras grew wide when it found a fragment of a memory. No, it was more of a command: spread across the planet, replace all life. Amongst the sound of a breeze, chirps and other native sounds emerged. It felt a growing sense of curiosity, something that was not designed into It's neural processing unit. What was making those sounds? What do those things look like? Curiosity, also something It wasn’t designed to have, finally overcame It’s core program as It oozed up the sides of the crater. When It crested the rim It saw that the vehicle impacted the side of a foothill above an expansive temperate valley. Tall grass waved in a gentle late afternoon breeze as a multitude of four legged megafauna grazed in the valley. Far in the distance several bipedal beings with spears stalked a massive, shaggy animal. It looked up at the azure sky, the white fluffy clouds overhead and the animals floating on the warm rising air. It smelled the sweet scent of the mountain flowers blooming. An insect with multi-colored wings flitted and landed on It's body. It's wet cameras gazed at the insect while it slowly flapped its wings. The butterfly, having found no nectar on the Alien’s gray featureless skin, beat its wings and flew off in search of something sweeter. In It’s short time of consciousness, this vast array of life was the most beautiful thing It had ever experienced; the only thing It had ever experienced. 

All of this beauty the Alien witnessed was incinerated when, just over the horizon, an asteroid brutally punched into the planet.

First the ground heaved and shook from the impact. The landscape shuddered as if it was made of a gelatinous substance. A blast of hot air quickly followed and snapped the mightiest of trees like they were grass in the wind. The Alien starred in abject terror as a wall of fire higher than the mountain behind It rolled towards It, instantly incinerating anything in its way. The sounds of thousands of trees exploding in flame and beasts’ and birds' pain and horror assaulted It’s senses. With only seconds until the wall of death was upon It, the Alien started to frantically dig. Through trial and error, with the speed of a computational device, It’s wetware found the shape that could move the ground efficiently. It grew seven massive muscular arms tipped with flat plates and dug down as deeply and as quickly as It could. It forced Itself to dig faster as It’s “back” blistered and cracked from the heat of the infernal raging above it. All too soon It hit unyielding rock. It spread Itself out against the bedrock of the Earth as It felt searing heat above it. And It waited.

When the soil above It had cooled, It slowly rose through the hard, burnt soil. It emerged into the valley that was no longer pastoral with air that was no longer sweet. On the horizon, instead of hunters and prey, It saw a crater tens of miles wide. Instead of waving grasses, It saw burnt soil littered with corpses. The dense, dusty acrid air made the sky blood red and smelt of death. All around It charred carcasses, cremated remains of bird, beast and man littered the ground. It felt the loss of all that life, all the beauty, and It wept.

It flowed down the foothill to the seared valley below. On the valley floor It noticed the body of a ruminant. The animal’s skin had been completely burned off, exposing its remaining muscle and bones. It oozed closer to take a look at the remains. As It studied the partially muscled skeleton, It's wetware analyzed how the bones fit together, how the tendons and muscles attached and moved. It changed Itself and attempted to mimic the animal. It's first attempts resulted in grotesque caricatures of the original and unable to support It’s own weight. But, in time, It adapted enough to allow It to walk on skeletal legs. It slowly made It's way east through the devastation. After seven days and nights of stumbling over ash covered ground It saw an animal in the sky. It stood, immobile, and observed the bird; how its wings were constructed, how it used its head to change direction, how its feathers flexed. The Alien spent all day watching the bird soar, dive towards imagined prey then launch itself to the sky with empty talons. When the sun set and the eagle flew to its nest the Aliens’s wetware began to think about all it had observed that day. Throughout the night It calculated air speed and weight ratios, skeletal features, muscle elasticity, feather tensile strength. Finally, It looked at the blood red rising sun with hopeful eyes as it leapt into the air. It's forelimbs cracked and bent backwards, It's legs dramatically shrank and thinned, It's chest exploded as the muscles expanded to support flight and, finally, It's mottled exterior morphed into brown and gray feathers. It beat It's wings, gained altitude and flew into the dust choked morning sky.

From the sky the Alien could see more of the desolation the asteroid caused. Entire forests were felled or in flames, mudslides caused by overflowing rivers choked with death, ash and particulate matter filled the sky limiting visibility. At times It couldn’t even see the ground from a moderate altitude. It tried to keep It's eyes forward instead, looking towards the horizon and hoping for safety. Three days and nights It stayed aloft until It reached an ocean, its waters black from the ashfall. It circled high above a beach littered with dead fish and other marine animals until It spied a massively huge creature. Then It headed out to sea, morphed into a sperm whale in mid air, crashed into the sea and swam eastward.

As It used It's powerful tail to propel it through the dark, cold oceanic waters It saw scavengers feeding on any aquatic animal that just happened to be near the surface when the shockwave rolled across the world. Through days and days of swimming It noticed the water became clearer, less and less filled with death.

When the Alien reached land It leapt from the water, resumed the shape of an eagle and flew inland. As It gained altitude in the overcast sky It noticed that It could see to the horizon. Somehow, It knew that the air was colder than it should be, though.

After a day of flight over a thick deciduous forest covered with a dusting of ash from the meteor impact half a world away It found a clearing with a community of bipedal hominids. Circling high above the village It observed the beings' activity. Fifteen huts, made of branches and mud, were arranged in a loose double circle at the foot of a low hill. A central fire blazed, tended by a couple of hominids, although It saw wisps of smoke from a few of the huts, too. It watched two other beings dressing an animal carcass, while three more scraped an animal skin stretched in a wooden frame. Several smaller versions of the beings were chasing, and being chased, by furry, short four legged animals. It heard sharp sounds from the crest of the hill. Turning It's head It observed a dozen and a half larger four legged animals barking at It.

It became curious; these upright walking beings were using wood and stone as tools, which is something It hadn’t seen since the It left the crash site, and they lived in a kind of mutual symbiosis with animal companions. When It dropped and landed near the camp to observe this behavior more closely It was startled by a growl from one of the companions. It quickly studied the animal and became a bigger, more powerful imitation of it. The smaller gray dog whimpered and lowered its head in submission as a shout came from the camp. The dog yipped as it ran back to its master for protection. A huge, massively muscled, male with animal skins about his waist ran past the dog brandishing a large rock and yelling at the gray and white furred Alien. The man didn’t attack though. Rather he studied the dire wolf just as the wolf studied him. The Alien looked at the dog behind the man and saw how the man was willing to protect the dog. It felt It understood the man and that It could trust him. It submissively dropped It's head like the dog did and waited. The change in the man was slow. He relaxed slightly, slowly lowered the rock and said something that It didn’t understand. It stayed still as the man inched his way forward. He stopped when It was just within his reach and made cooing sounds as he slowly brought his huge veiny hand down on the Alien’s furry head and began to stroke It's fur. It tried not to tremble when the man’s hand touched It's head and soon, with every stroke It began to relax. After a minute of pets and scratches the man stood, said something, turned and started to walk away. After a few steps he stopped, half turned to It, said something else and waved his hand forward. The Alien understood and followed the man into the camp bathed in an afternoon sun.

The Alien studied the community as the man lead It deeper into the camp. The entrance of each thatched hut had two or three individuals huddled around small campfires. A few of the males nodded to the man in acknowledgment. It saw more than a few females quickly glance at the man, then just as quickly look away. Most kept their eyes averted, studying the small pieces of meat cooking on the rocks that surrounded the fires.

The man turned to walk between a pair of huts and up a slight rise. When the man stopped, It stopped at his side. The man had led the Alien to the crest of the hill where the dogs had made their den. The man lifted his left hand to place it on It’s head, motioned with his right hand to the middle of the pack and said something. It looked up at him and tried to understand his intention. When the man motioned again and repeated what he said It understood and moved towards the pack. Every pair of eyes were upon It as It moved forward a few paces then lowered Itself onto It's belly, as some of the dogs were. The barked command from the man made the dogs tear their eyes off It. Their eyes held the expression of submission and obedience, even the two young dogs fighting over a femur thicker than their heads and too large for either of them to lift. All dogs save one.

After the man had turned and walked down the hill, the biggest of the male dogs, the brown one with a torn ear and a white patch over his left eye, bore his teeth, growled and slowly advanced on It. The alpha began to circle It as It stayed still as a mountain, not even breathing or blinking (neither of which It needed to do). Suddenly, the alpha pounced on It from behind and grabbed It’s neck in his jaws. It could feel a tube begin to probe under It's tail. Something dormant in the Alien’s code recognized this as an attack. Core subroutines were activated and, before It could prevent It's actions, the Alien leapt to It's paws and shrugged It's shoulders, throwing the big alpha to the ground a few body lengths away. The dog landed on its side with a yelp as the imitation dog sprang high into the air. It landed atop the real dog, pinning him the ground with It’s weight. No sound came from It’s mawl as It brought It’s mouth down on the prone dog’s neck. It’s mind screamed, “Stop!” as It’s sharp teeth broke the whimpering dog’s skin. A narrow stream of canine blood squirted into the Alien’s mouth. Instantly a detailed genetic analysis was completed from the dog’s whiteblood cell’s DNA. It held the panicking dog down as organs were built to fill it’s chest and abdomen and fur rippled as It’s muscles grew tenfold. The dry air stung It’s eyes for the first time. It rapidly blinked to moisten It’s eyes. When It’s respiratory system was complete It took It’s first breath of air. It’s long, slow exhalation was a growl deeper than any canine, dog or wolf, would ever have.

The Alien then understood what the alpha was attempting to do; assert his dominance over It. Something deep in It knew It was better than this dog, that It would never be inferior. Using the dog’s genetic instinct It knew what to do. It made It’s testicles grow, It’s penis lengthen and thicken until it dwarfed the big dog’s foreleg. The dog vainly struggled to get out of the wolf’s grasp as he felt an impossibly long, thick and hard cock against his fur. He pulled back his hips, and let the newly acquired canine instinct take over.

The former alpha, the largest, strongest dog in the pack screamed when he lost his masculinity to a wolf cock bigger than he would ever possess savagely ruptured his rectum and went knot deep into his lower intestine, rearranging the dog’s internal organs.

The wolf, overwhelmed by the sensations shooting through thousands of new neural connections, released the dog’s neck, threw back his head and roared as he fucked the male under him like a madman. Too soon he felt a pressure in his testacles. He rammed the knot at the base of his cock into the weaker dog, almost cracking his pelvis. What followed was an explosion of cum shooting out of the wolf’s granite hard cock, filling the dog’s abdomen.

After the last detonation of cum filled the puny dog the wolf raised himself above the defeated former alpha, lifting the whimpering dog off the ground with his cock. He looked up and saw a change in the females. Some were snapping their jaws at each other, some were prancing as if the ground was burning their pads. All of them started panting.

“Nice job putting the old boy in his place, wolf.”

The wolf whipped his head towards the source of the sound. The man was leaning against an old ironwood tree, his powerful arms crossed over his hard, thick, boulder pecs. He also saw that the man’s cockhead was just above his knees and growing thick and hard. The wolf was so startled at understanding what the man said that he forgot to breathe. When his temperature started to rise the canine instinct kicked in; he started to pant.

“He’s a good dog. But he’s getting too old to hunt or guard the camp. The pack needed new blood, so I brought you in.” The wolf then smelled a scent in the air that made his blood boil with testosterone. “Looks like you put all bitches in heat,” the man said with a half smile. When the wolf turned towards the man and drew back his lips the elder dog cried out in pain and humiliation as the wolf’s knot popped out and he slid off the new alpha’s cock. The man tensed his massive muscles, assumed a fighting stance and said, “Wolf, you’re the alpha of this pack. You are responsible for every dog.” Then the man punched his left fist sideways from his shoulder. His fist went clear through the ironwood tree’s trunk, a trunk thicker than his impressive chest, as if it was water and with a loud crack. The entire tall tree shook from the blow, some roots were forced above the soil as the tree tilted from the crushing attack. “Just try it, wolf, and I’ll RIP YOUR LIMBS OFF!” The wolf took a step back, startled by the man’s threat and display of power. He looked over his shaggy, muscular left shoulder, then his right. Every dog in the pack was crouching, ready to attack him and defend the man. “You may be the alpha of the pack, but I’m THE ALPHA of this camp AND the pack.”

The wolf tipped his head to the side for a moment, considering what the man had said. Then turned and walked to where the young dogs were still fighting over the bone. The other dogs scrambled to move out of his way. One of the dogs barked at him when he lowered his head to grasp one of the ends of the femur. He bared his teeth, still red from lesser dog’s blood and growled. The younger dog yipped, stumbled backwards and urinated in fear. With his claim on the bone secured, the wolf took the bone that no other dog could move in his jaws and lifted. Holding the bone parallel to the ground he took it to where his former rival still lay whimpering. While keeping both eyes on the man, the wolf closed his jaws and snapped the hard bone in two; he also could display power. The prone dog twisted on his side to chew off a bit of flesh that the other dogs had missed as the wolf tasted the bone marrow and stored a woolly mammoth’s DNA in his memory.

The man relaxed a bit until the wolf walked up to him and sat down. They locked eyes and came to a silent mutual agreement. Several heartbeats passed, then the man tentatively extended his left hand towards the dire wolf. The wolf leaned forward and sniffed the proffered hand, not taking his eyes off the man. Then he licked the hand, sealing their partnership.

The man relaxed, brought left hand up over the wolf’s head and patted the thick fur. “You’d better take care of all the bitches,” he said, turned his back and started walking down the hill. “Have fun. Fuck’em all.”

The feral grunts and cries of ecstasy that came from the pack’s hill and the man’s hut kept everyone, human or not, awake the entire night.

Two moons later, every menstruating bitch in the pack gave birth to a large litter of puppies. Each one had brown fur and a white patch over its left eye. The wolf knew that they were the spawn of the old dog’s seed the wolf had sown.

Seven more moons later, every one of the man’s women gave birth to an abnormally strong child. Each newborn boy had a large endowment.

The wolf stayed with the man’s camp. Often he would accompany the man on hunts. Even though it appalled him to see death, he began to understand that for the camp and the pack to live, something must die. Once, only once, another male tried to take one of the man’s women. As the man savagely attacked the interloper, beating him and breaking bones, an onlooker tried to take advantage and spear the man in the back. The wolf attacked the spearman, knocked him down, ripped out his throat and acquired his DNA. To end it all the man pulled the raider’s head off with his bare hands and mounted the skull on a stick by his hut as a warning. The wolf could tell, though, that the man did not take any enjoyment from the death. 

Many evenings after successful hunts the man would bed his women, making them writhe and scream in ecstasy with his massive cock for hours. Once the man even invited the wolf to cleave a woman that refused to lay with him. The man had already forced the woman’s head down and ass up when the wolf mounted her and thrust his massive canine cock into her. When she screamed from the penetration the man tore off the animal skin at his waist. The woman and wolf froze at the sight of the man’s cock. It was a massive, long, thick, vein-covered tree, harder than any stone, hotter than any fire and bubbling thick precum, standing vertically above a ball sack that looked like it belonged to a bull mammoth. The internal structure of his manhood bulging and stretching the low hanging scrotum’s skin; each testicle clearly visible. The man seized the disobedient woman’s head and yanked upward. Her mouth flew open and, in one powerful thrust, he rammed his cock down her throat. “Let’s make sure this bitch knows her place, wolf!” the man roared as he savagely started fucking her throat. With the first thrust her nose crashed into the man’s mountain hard abs, forcing her back on the wolf’s cock. The sensation of the woman’s cervix on the tip of the wolf’s hard branch made him involuntarily buck forward, his large puppy makers bashed her clit. At the same instant the man pulled back for his next assault on her esophagus. The force of the wolf’s fuck threw her onto the man, burying his cock closer to her stomach and swung his heavy ball sack forward, smashing into the middle of her neck. In this way, the two alphas spitroasted the bitch for over an hour until both superior males blew massive loads of cum in their respective conquered holes. Her stomach bulged from the man’s seed while, when the wolf popped his knot out of her, canine cum geysered out of her red, puffy cunt. She laid at their feet; physically and mentally exhausted and dominated by man and beast. From then on she became the man’s most obedient cock sucking cum slut.

The man stood above her, the vision of everything immensely powerful and dominant; his deep breathing expanding his already titanic chest, finger-thick veins pulsed over every inch of him, cock still granite hard and erect with the last vestiges of his orgasm dripping from the tip in a long string that almost reached the ground. A subroutine in the wolf’s brain demanded that he collect a sample of this man’s DNA for analysis. The wolf was forced against his will to walk over the woman to the man’s fist-sized cock head. The wolf trembled as he did this; not from submission or erotic excitement, but from the herculean act of trying to stop the uncontrollable urge. He lowered his head to capture the end of the string of cum, then raised his head to collect the entire strand. Uncontrollably, he cleaned the man’s entire manhood, cock and balls, with his wide, soft tongue. The man misunderstood this as an act of ultimate submission, smiled and ruffed up the fur on the wolf’s head. Seconds later the wolf’s analysis was completed and he realized that the man was no mere human. Even though he only had half the man’s DNA to work with, markers indicated that the man had absolutely no myostatin. Other markers for growth and hormonal balance didn’t make any sense at all. The wolf’s eyes grew wide in the realization that the man was the mightiest animal on the entire planet. The wolf made the decision at that moment to stay at the man’s side, protect and learn from this rare specimen.

For years the wolf stood guard over the man’s women as they gave birth to his children. Over time, the wolf grew to be the man’s children’s greatest protector and friend. Every chance the wolf could get, he collected sample DNA from every mammal or bird he came across, not knowing why he did so.

Then, when the winter snows had caused the man to go farther from the camp to hunt, he was ambushed and gored by a cave bear twice his height. The wolf flew into a rage, chased down the animal, crushed its neck in his jaws and flung it at a tree. The impact broke the bear’s back and uprooted the tree. Satisfied that the animal was dead he ran back to the man. He mixed, matched and combined all the human DNA he had acquired to take on a human form. He still had his wolf ears and eyes when he knelt beside the man. He failed to assess the man’s condition, his wetware couldn’t process anything. The man’s pecs were shredded by the bear’s claws, his once powerful eight pack abs were ripped open and his intestines were spilling their contents into his abdomen. The man looked into his eyes and said, “Is that you, wolf?” The man raised a hand to touch the wolf’s humanizing face. “I knew from the first time I saw you, you were no ordinary wolf. You must be a god to be able to become a man.”

“I am not,” the Alien said as tears flowed down his cheeks. He shook his head as it became human. “I am your friend.”

The man coughed up blood. “I am dying, wolf. Take me to my women. Promise me you will take care of them, my children and the pack for me.”

“No! You will live!” he exclaimed, lifting the powerfully muscled man into his arms like he was a toddler and ran as fast as he could to the camp. The man died halfway to the camp. When the Alien entered the camp with the man in his arms the women wailed at the sight of their fallen master and lover, then they attacked with thrown rocks, thinking that he had murdered the man. The Alien turned his back to the attack to shield his friend and gently laid the man down. Rocks pelted his back as he caressed the man’s cheek and said softly, “I promise.”

He then stood, swiftly spun on his heels to face the women, packed on many men’s worth of muscle and expanded his physique. His pecs became boulders with a deep, vertical crevice between the muscles; his traps rose to his ears; his delts became striated globes bigger than pumpkins; his back became a mountain range; his abs became ten rectangular solid protruding rocks; his arms became thicker than the women’s legs; his legs became tree trunks; his penis became a third leg in front of a heavy, low hanging sack. He made the powerful man look like a child. A sharp heavy rock bounced off his immaculate impenetrable chest and he bellowed, “The man was my friend! Before he died he asked me to take care of all of you!”

The women stood still, shocked and aroused by the transformation and proclamation. The first of the women, a tall, proud and powerful redhead, timidly shuffled forward and said, “Then you must take each of us.” She knelt before him and marveled at his godlike physique. She slowly ran her hands up his massive, chorded legs, caressing each bulging muscle group. Then she began to stroke his gigantic cock, her hand could barely encompass all his girth, and fondle his overfull balls. “Mark us as you own. Fill us with your seed,” then she lifted his cock, put the massive glans in her mouth and began to suck.

He threw back It's head, roared, grabbed the sides of the woman’s head and brutally fucked her throat. After five strokes he felt a huge load of cum rocket up his cock and explode into the woman’s stomach. She fell back, more from the force of It's ejaculation than from losing her balance, exposing her pussy to him. His cock sprang up and crashed into his chest with a tremendous smack as she spread her pussy lips. “Fuck me. Break my pussy with that monster of a cock!” With a feral expression he fell upon her. She screamed into his chest as he buried his cock so deep, he entered where no male, not even the man, had been before. Through multiple explosive orgasms his intensity did not diminish. He left her only after she screamed, a massive orgasm ripped through her and she went limp. When he pulled his cock from her his cum gushed out of her like a waterfall. Glancing around him he saw the women encircling him. Each one had one or both breasts exposed. Some were squeezing their firm breasts and pinching and twisting their nipples while others had sunk their fingers to the last knuckle in their cunts. All were intently watching him fuck the woman with eyes wide and jaws slack.

With an insane expression, he found It's next female to claim; a young petite raven haired muscular girl in a defensive stance forty feet away. He launched himself into the air and crashed into her, knocking her onto her back. She was still trying to scramble away on her elbows while he thrust forward. He missed her pussy and rammed into her virgin ass, ripping her rectum. She bit his abs with orgasmic pain and wanton lust as he rutted into her.

By daybreak the following morning he had claimed all the women in the camp whether they were the man’s or not. Any male that interfered was easily overpowered and emasculated upon his rock shattering hard cock.

Over the following years he proved to be an excellent provider and protector of the community and pack. He was happy that he could make his women ready for his cock by merely looking at them and he loved the position of dominating protector and provider. One thought brought him sadness, though. Though he had a multitude of human couplings, none of his females became pregnant with his children.

The population of the camp slowly dwindled, either by death or by families just moving on to better hunting grounds. Eventually only the youngest of his women and he were alone in the camp. He awoke one icy winter morning with her motionless on his chest, her ice cold hand resting on a pec, her other hand against his cheek. Through tears, he dug a ten foot deep grave in the frozen ground at the edge of the camp near where the man and others were buried. He dug the grave with hands in a shape that could move the ground efficiently. When he finished his excavation he laid her on the floor of the grave on her side with one of her hands under her head, as if she was sleeping; he needed to think of her that way right now. After he caressed her silver hair he kissed his hand and touched her cheek, then gently adjusted the soap stone bead necklace about her neck so that it laid against her the way she liked and put in her free hand the cloth and fur doll that she wanted to give to their daughter. After he scaled the walls of the grave, he said his last goodbye. Tears flowed freely down his face as he entombed her. 

For three days and nights he knelt motionless and unblinking beside the grave, mourning, contemplating his life and thinking of what to do next. At the sunrise of the fourth day he rose to his feet with purpose and began to rewrite It’s core program and major subroutines, something It was not programmed to do.

Seven days later, under an overcast sky and with the modifications tested and active, It moved to the middle of the deserted camp. Wherever It looked, emotional memories sprang in It’s mind. It looked at the discarded spears. It remembered the thrill of a successful hunt and satisfaction of having a full belly. Gazing at It’s hut. It felt the ecstasy of mating. It turned It’s head towards the graves at the edge of the camp. It felt the love It had for those humans and sorrow of losing them. 

It was tired. It knew It’s time was over. 

In the cold, gray morning, It impassionately watched as it’s naked body started to ripple and crack. The cells that made up It’s imitation human body started to detach and become autonomous. Multitudes of cells expanded, divided, grew and specialized. Each cell group almost instantly took on the form of a mammal or bird and was imprinted with an innate love of life and sense of duty to find and protect the man’s progeny. The sun broke through the clouds as It disintegrated, bathing It in golden sunlight, as if the planet approved. It’s last thought before It totally dissolved was that It’s children will live on, spread to every corner of this planet in search of the man’s descendants. It’s children would find them and serve as their protectors and friends just as It did. It’s children would continue the promise It made to the man almost two and a half centuries ago. And he was satisfied with that.

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On 12/27/2021 at 8:00 PM, hunghuge said:

Chapter 3? Eagerly waiting.... Black Cat is the best story on here.

Thanks! I’m planning on posting more the 1st or 2nd week in January. 

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  • 4 months later...

Chapter 3

‘Knock! Knock’ Ego started the fifteenth groan-inducing “Knock, Knock” joke.

‘Will you knock off the jokes! I’m on the phone!’ I mentally ordered my other personality. The Lycan died just as South Midvale Boulevard merged with the four lane divided highway US-151. Black smoke poured out of the tailpipe and the tachometer dropped as I steered the stalling car to the road’s shoulder. Just before the car rolled to a stop the engine died with a loud THUMP! I unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned over the center console to open the glovebox. I found an expired registration, an old insurance card, the owner’s manual (in Arabic) and the dealership’s business card. The card had an oversized Bucky Badger, UW’s mascot, in a sporty convertible car and a telephone number.

I dialed the number and waited. After two rings a curt female voice said without taking a breath, “Bucky’s Exotic Cars your call is very important to us please hold.” Then I was subjected to the elevator music version of Nine Inch Nails’s “Closer”.

‘Aww come on! Just one more!’ Ego whined

I sighed in resignation. ‘FINE. One more. And I mean only ONE.’

‘This is a reeeally good one! Ok. Here it goes… Knock! Knock!’

With a mental sigh I replied, ‘Who’s there?’

‘Iona.’

I’m already regretting this. ‘Iona who?’

‘Iona busted car!’ Eglo triumphantly finished the “joke” and started belly laughing in my head.

I started to agree with Brenna as I reached up to pinch the bridge of my nose to prevent a migraine. I was having a good day until this. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“I beg your pardon!” the annoyed female voice from my phone said.

“Sorry,” I said and shifted my mental gears. “My car broke down on US-151…”

“Please hold,” she interrupted. This time I heard the Muzak version of Cell’s “Terror Amongst the Shadows”.

Cursing, I opened the car door and stepped out onto the highway’s shoulder. It was only around 9:00 and already the heat was oppressive under a clear sky. It was going to be a hot, humid, Wisconsin midsummer day. I slammed the door closed and, just to do something, I started pacing around the car.

On the fifth lap the music stopped. I heard what sounded like someone rattling their phone against a table top. Then a male voice quickly said, “Bucky’s Exotic Cars Service Center your call is very important to us please hold.” followed by the lite version of Amon Armarth’s “Guardians of Asgaard”.

I dropped the hand holding my phone to my side, yelled in frustration and kicked the Jersey barrier at the side of the road. The reinforced concrete barrier cracked in half and the whole thing moved back a foot. Then I heard a different man say, “‘ello?” from my phone.

I quickly raised the phone to my ear before I could be put on hold again and said, “Yeah, hi. My car broke down on 151 at the 65 mile marker. I need to get towed to you.” I used my free hand to move back the cracked barrier halves.

“Ya say the car broke down?”

“Yeah, at the 65 mile…”

“Please hold.” 

“Wait! FUCK!” This place will NOT get a good review on Yelp. Especially on the hold music.

A few seconds later a fourth voice, female this time, said, “Bucky sez ya broke down?”

“YES! I’m on 151 at…”

“Yeah, 151 at 65. What’s the VIN?”

“What?”

The voice sighed. “The vehicle identification number. Are ya outside the car?”

“Yeah.”

“Then get to the diver’s side by the windshield. The VIN is at the bottom. Seventeen letters and numbers, hun.”

“Ok. I see it.” I read the number to her.

I heard keys clacking. “Alright. Let’s see what we got here…” There’s a pause, then she continued. “Oh, wow. You own THAT car. We’ll get a tow truck to ya in…ten minutes Mr. Kesselbaum. Is there anything else we can do for ya?”

I was pissed off enough not to care to inform her I had taken possession of the car. “Yeah, have the driver bring some bottled water. It’s fucking hot out here.”

“Will do. See ya soon.”

Nine minutes later a big flatbed tow truck showed up, passed me, stopped, then, with a loud beeping, backed up to the nose of the car and stopped. The driver’s side door opened and the portly driver slid out of the truck. “Are you the guy that called for a tow?” he asked.

I sighed and said, “Yes. I don’t know what happened.” I gestured at the car. “It just lost power and stopped.”

“All right,” he said as he pulled thick leather gloves out of his back pocket. “Why don’t ya go sit in the cab?” He put the gloves on and walked past me to look over the car. “It’s cooler in there. Oh, and yer bottle of water is there, too.”

I left him to his work and walked around the trunk to the passenger door. I pulled it open and, immediately, my nose was assaulted by bad fast food farts. The cab is a mess of crumpled McDonald’s and Hardee’s bags and poorly folded maps. Maps? Who the hell uses maps anymore? I pushed most of the detritus off the passenger seat, climbed into the cab and closed the door. The air conditioned air blasted from the vents caused goosebumps to break out on my sweaty skin and elicited a calmed sigh from me. Looking around the cab I found not one, but two twenty ounce bottles of water in the cup holders. I crack opened one, drain it, sat back in the seat and tried to relax.

‘Me going to be fucking late,’ an annoyed Ego said in my head.

“Shut up. I’m not listening.” I replied aloud. Still, I pulled out my phone and read the text message Keena sent me last night.

“I made an appt for you at the Zenith Physical Development Clinic, 107 Horizon Dr, Verona, WI 53719, tomorrow at 10:00. You must complete the physical and all tests before you start work on Wednesday.”

I sighed and thumb typed, “My car broke down. Give me the clinic’s number.”

I was surprised when the reply bubble immediately popped up. Seconds later her reply appeared, “I’ll take care of it. Let me know when you’re almost at the building.”

Just then I felt the truck rock and a metallic “clank” as the Lycan settled on the truck bed. A few minutes later the driver threw open the door and climbed into the cab. As he pulled off his gloves he consoled me. “I checked under the hood before I pulled ‘er up. I don’t think ya have much to worry about.” He started up the truck and moved out into traffic. I sat back in the seat and rested my head against the door’s cool glass as he drove to the dealership. The driver had a one-sided conversation about the Green Bay Packers’s prospects for the fall and the next Milwaukee Bucks game. Tow truck drivers, like doctors, try to get your mind off the injury, or broken car, when it’s really bad.

We arrived at the dealership on the north side of town around 11:30. The driver wished me luck as I opened the door and jumped out of the cab. I weakly smiled and waved as I started towards the service department’s door. Before I opened the door I turned and watched for a minute as the driver deposited the Lycan in an empty parking spot.

I yanked open the door, felt the blessed cool air blast at me and entered the waiting area. I walked up to the podium where I assumed car owners checked in cars and paid exorbitant repair bills. I saw through the window to the adjoining service garage a huge red Dodge Ram 3500 pickup up on a lift and a brown-haired, skinny, average height, twenty-something guy working under the engine. “I’ll be right with you!” he yelled. I smiled and waved.

Then I heard the loud crack and saw the massive truck drop a foot.

Before I could even think about what I was doing I ran to the door to the garage and threw open the door. The truck dropped another foot by the time I was under it. I grabbed the axles on either side of the differential and lifted. I yelled as I forced the emotional power I had on hand into every bone, tendon and muscle. The rear of the truck rose as I shoulder pressed it off the failing two post lift’s back support arms. While keeping my attention on the truck I was impossibly lifting, I saw the guy had fallen back. He sat up on the concrete, supporting himself with his arms, mouth hung open and hazel eyes bugged as he stared at me. I grunted at him, “MOVE!” My heart was slamming a sledge hammer against my chest. I had to divert gallons of power to my vital organs just so I wouldn’t have a heart attack or systemic failure.

Just as he crab-crawled from under the truck the front support arms started to buckle. I devoured any and every emotion the guy was directing at me as I released the axle with one hand and grabbed the frame, then I did the same with the other hand, walking my hands towards the center of the truck. Each time supporting the entire weight with one hand as I moved the other. By the time I reached the truck’s center of gravity I had exhausted the power I had on hand. No sooner had I thrown open the floodgates to my reserves when the lift completely failed. My arms bent as I took on the truck’s entire weight. I grunted loudly as I forced my elbows to straighten and lift the truck higher.

I supported a massive pickup truck above my head and had no idea what to do with it.

‘Just throw it!’ Ego screamed. ‘The reserves won’t last long!’

The guy must have read my body language because he screamed, “DON’T THROW MY TRUCK!”

Sweat stung my eyes; Through gritted teeth I growled, “WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!”

“Wait…just wait a second.” he said as he regained his feet.

“I DON’T HAVE A SEC!”

He thought for a few seconds, then dashed to a panel beside the closed garage door and jabbed a big, green button. The garage door started opening…far too slowly. By the time the door was fully open thirty seconds later I was down to a third of my reserves. As I walked through the door, holding the truck high above my head, pain shot up from my toes, through my back and core all the way to my fingertips. Tremors started in my back, shoulders and arms. Twenty excruciating steps brought the truck outside the garage. The guy anxiously stood outside the building. He pressed his palms together, as if praying. “PLEASE put her down gently.”

I screamed though clenched teeth, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Still, I slowly lowered the nose of the truck until the tires squeaked against the pavement. I hand-walked towards the back of the truck until I felt the back bumper, then I gradually lowered it.

When the fender was at my eye level Ego said, ‘That’s all of it. It’s been nice knowing ya.’

I screamed when all the power I had collected from the past four days was exhausted. Every cell of my being shreked even louder in pain. I don’t know how, but I still lowered the truck at the same rate until I felt the rear tires make contact with the ground. Exhausted, I fell to the ground.

“Oh, fuck…no,” I muttered as I felt the familar light headedness overtake me. “I’m not going to…”

‘Pass out? ‘Fraid ya are buddy,’ Ego said as everything went dark.

The blackness swallowed me, then, sometime later, I saw a big azure blur with a brown and tan blur in the middle as I came back to consciousness. Though the buzzing in my ears I heard, “That was fucking AMAZING!”

“What?” I weakly said, still not fully aware of my surroundings. The blurs resolved into the sky and the guy standing over me.

“The way you lifted Ruby like that! It was INCREDIBLE! I’ve never seen anything like it, except for that guy on the web.” He paused and his brow wrinkled. “Say, you’re looking kinda pale. Are you ok?”

I just shoulder pressed and held an over ten thousand pound vehicle above my head, walked forty feet with said truck, gently put the front wheels down and negative-rep curled the rest of it. There’s only one way to answer his question.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Bro, do you need anything?”

“Water.” I croaked. As I laid on the ground, in a pool of my own sweat, I did a mental check of my body; no broken bones, no screaming tenons, no ruptured muscles and my heart was still beating normally, albeit quickly.

What the actual fuck? Without any emotional power that Brenna gave me access to my arms should have been ripped off at the shoulders when I lowered the truck.

I raised a hand to wipe the sweat from my brow and gasped when I saw that the muscles of my forearm were larger and more defined than I could possibly imagine. They looked like five inch thick, thousand pound test steel cables under the thick veins and thin skin. I tentatively lifted my head to do a visual inspection. Every stitch of clothing on me was in ribbons and, under those strips of fabric, was a body that wasn’t just on-season bodybuilding competition material. I was contest-day, fully-flexed and making-massive-men-look-like-children big. Every muscle looked like they were pumped with gallons of blood, yet they weren’t. 

Holy mother fuckng fuck. This wasn’t emotional power pumping up my physique, I’d exhausted that. This was me.

I laid my head back down, relaxed my core and ran a hand over my abdominals. My fingers felt two, four, six, eight, ten(!) blocks of hard muscle with steep, two and a half inch deep crevasses between the segments. I had to lift my head high to look over my pecs to see my midsection. My core was tighter than before. Those thick brick abs were all framed by corrugated obliques and a hard adonis belt. I pinched some skin and pulled it up; there wasn’t even a gram of fat on me. My waist couldn’t have been more than thirty-two inches!

Then I realized how far I had to lift my head and my focus shifted to my pectorals. Holy FUCK the were HUGE and deeply striated! It looked like I had a pair of Ayers Rocks sitting on my chest! The top of my pectoralis major went straight off of my collar bone to create a four inch wide shelf. I used my other hand to try and judge the weight of one. The extremely dense pectoralis major and minor didn’t move or dent as I pressed against them. The only thing that seemed to move the muscles were the other set of pecs. The two thick vein covered muscle groups pressed and fought against each other in the middle of my chest like they were sumo wrestlers. Each one trying to dominate the other. I flexed the mountains on my chest. They thrusted higher and the striations grew deeper while the finger thick veins throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

My gaze followed the pattern of the network veins on my chest to a globe of a deltoid so striated that it looked like a huge pumpkin. That muscle group was in perfect proportion to my pecs. Which is to say FUCKING HUGE, HARD AND VEINY. The anterior and middle heads were presented as distinct shredded muscles, each one trying to subjugate the other.

Then came my upper arms. I lifted both arms into my field of vision. The biceps looked gigantic, like a couple of overinflated footballs smashed together and stuffed under my skin. When I rotated each arm each bicep head expanded and threatened to break through the network of veins and skin over them. My triceps…oh the triceps. The medial, lateral and long head of those muscles were equal to if not more powerful than the muscles on the other side of my arm. Each upper arm looked almost as thick as my waist, and I wasn’t even flexing them.

There must have been a new connection to my groin because when my palm brushed a nipple an erotic lightning bolt struck my cock. My eyes involuntarily rolled to the back of my head, clenched my eyelids closed, arched my back and moaned. I took the opposite nipple between my thumb and index finger and lightly squeezed and twisted the nub. The sensations this time were a hundred fold. I added a guttural growl to my other reactions.

I laid on the ground, eyes closed, roaming my hands over my body, worshiping my own summit-of-muscular-power body for a few minutes. Then I heard footsteps and the guy softly moaned, “Beautiful…big…bulging…powerful, daddy.” His admiration, envy, lust and submission was like an ice cold drink of water after days in the desert with nothing to eat or drink. I mentally grabbed hold of those feelings, ripped them out of him as hard as I could and shoved them into me.

‘That guy said he’s seen someone like I on the web. Could he be the submissive that replied to that post on the MGF?’ Ego asked.

‘Don’t know. Could be.’ I replied.

‘Even if he isn’t, me need to harvest his feelings ASAP.’

As I tore the emotional power out of him, the guy stood over me, transfixed. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open, totally mesmerized by the ultimate man before him. I raised a hand for the liter bottle of water he held at his side. Instead of handing the bottle to me, his eyes grew wider as he moved them over my shoulder and arm. I commanded, “Water.” With that single word I realized that my voice was several octaves lower than it was. My chest must have expanded.

“What?” he meekly said.

I looked at the embroidered name on his green, greasy jumpsuit. His name really was Guy. “Water,” I repeated. Then I dropped my voice just to the audible side of infrasound and growled, “Now, you pathetic weakling.”

The change in his demeanor and emotional output was immediate. His entire body shivered and he felt inadequate, small and helpless. Those emotions gratified me because they’re the truth. He trembled as he put the bottle in my hand.

As I crunched my abs to bring my sweat glistened, herculean torso upright I ripped off the top of the bottle. When I put a hand on the truck’s bumper to steady myself the truck’s springs creaked and complained as it was forced down. I moved my legs under me and began to rise up. My pants were just as destroyed as my shirt. The waistband was intact, but below that were strips of denim. Between each ribbon huge striated teardrop shaped, vein covered quads and wide angular calves burst through. Thankfully, my feet hadn’t grown.

I drained the bottle of its contents as I became upright. At my full height I closed my eyes, tilted my head back, flexed my chest and core and let the remaining water cascade down my perfect body. I threw the empty bottle aside, opened my eyes and lowered my head. The first thing I saw was that I was still six foot six inches tall. That was fine by me; I hated bashing in the top of door frames with my head. Next thing I noticed was that the top of Guy’s head was at the middle of my chest and that his upturned eyes were glued to his Muscle God’s chest.

I lifted my left hand to grab the remains of my shirt that hung from my shoulders. I flexed that arm’s bicep as I nonchalantly pulled the thick cotton fabric. Any residual fabric holding the shirt together was rent like it was tissue paper. I cast aside the destroyed shirt and asked, “Where is everyone else?”

“Th…th..they are out to l…lunch,” Guy stammered as sweat started to bead up on his forehead. His eyes bugged out even more at the power and might my arm displayed. “I…I needed to do an oil change on Ruby, s…s…so I stayed.”

I grinned evilly and continued, “You said you saw someone like me on the web. Where was that?”

“He has posts and albums on MuscleGrowth.net.”

“Did you reply to a post?”

“Yes…sir. I wrote, ‘I want to see you grow so I can worship your powerful body’ or something like that.”

‘ChaaCHING! We got a WINNER!’ Ego interjected.

I brought my left foot forward six inches to expose my thigh and calf between the shreds of blue jean material, moved into a double bi pose and squeezed every muscle in my body and vacuumed my abs. I held that pose, every muscle began to fill with more power and demanded, “And how do I compare to him?”

“Oh, god.” He said “god” as if he was addressing me. “He’s small compared to you.” Lust was cascading off of him like Niagra Falls. He bought his shaking hands within an inch of my biceps and gave me a questioning look.

“You may, runt.” The instant he touched my biceps I straightened both arms, then violently brought both fists toward my head and squeezed the bicep and forearm muscles even harder. The muscle group exploded outward, pushing into Guy’s hands.

“Oh…my…god. I can feel your pulse in these fat veins. You’re so big…so fucking hard.” He used all his measly strength to try to squeeze each ball of immeasurable power. “I can’t even dent the skin!” The lust blowing from him was kicked up a notch as he moved his hands over my delts, then over the top of my pecs. I can see my sweat collecting on his fingers.

“Smell your fingers, little man,” I demanded. Guy, of course, obeyed. He brought a hand to his nose and inhaled deeply. “That’s not just a man’s scent. That’s the only true alpha man’s scent.” His eyelids fluttered. I straightened and pumped my arms again, this time I included my pecs in the squeeze. “You want to see what a god among children tastes like? I’m gonna teach you the meaning of 'MAN'!” I didn't wait for his response; it was irrelevant. I grabbed the back of his head with my right hand as he realized who I was. When I slammed his mouth on my right pec, he latched on and started sucking like a leech while his tongue licked and swirled around the newly sensitive nipple. I replaced my hand at the back of his head with my elbow so he would feel like he was totally at my mercy (he was). Though an unbelievable effort I kept my cock from becoming hard and busting out of my pants.

I turned my attention to my left arm and started to repeatedly straighten then flex the bicep hard. My arm already felt powerfully strong. The pump I was creating made the muscles impossibly grow larger and felt indescribably incredible! “GRRRR! Look at that ball of nuclear powered muscle.” I bent my head towards my arm and licked a throbbing vein. That prompted Guy to moan into my pec. “I’ve punched through brick walls. Now, I can rip apart a bank vault.” Guy’s sense of submission, worthlessness and lust doubled as I drug his face across my chest, through my left armpit, to the pumped arm. I let go of his head to pump up my right arm. I noticed that his hands weren’t on me. I looked down to see him grabbing what appeared to be a tiny erect dick.

In a low, dangerous voice I growled, “Did I say you could touch your dicklet? Get those fucking hand on me!” Lightning fast Guy moved his hands to my right latissimus dorsi and left obliques and started caressing the taught skin over the titanic muscles.

Into my arm he moaned, “Ooooh fuuuck. You lats are sooo goddamn big. Let me see your back.”

“If you want to see the back muscles of a god…” I dropped my voice again and issued the command, “...beg.”

Guy almost convulsed as my voice caused vibrations up and down his spine. He disengaged from my arm, turned his head, kissed and licked my left pec. Then he craned his neck to look into my eyes. His upper lip came off my chest, but he drug his lower lip over the skin until it too left my chest. He lustfully said, “I saw all your pic and vids that day. I rubbed my dick raw jacking off to them. The thought of your perfect muscles was driving me insane. I had to see you in person to make sure you were real. I went to that gym and found you bench press eight hundred and fifty-five pounds for reps. I popped a boner and had to run to the locker room to…well, you know. I’d never cum so much in my life. So, please, please, let me see, feel, taste, a real man’s…an alpha man’s thick…” his kissed my left nipple, “...powerful…” then he kissed my right nipple, “...bulging back.” He looked back up at me beseeching expression. “Please, Sir, I beg you, let me worship…the Man who saved my life.”

“You may, boy.”

He slowly moved to my back, keeping both hands on me to caress every square inch of the torso along the way. When I felt his hands on the top of my trapezius I lowered my hands to my waist and pushed out a rear lat pose. “My God,” he moaned as a whirlwind of mixed emotions blasted off of him. I seized every last quantum of that power and claimed it as mine. “Your traps…they start at your shoulders and rise up to the back of your head like mountains.” I felt him tracing the top of those enormous muscles, then followed the border of every bulging muscle group with his tongue. He kept vocalizing his reverence of my physique, but I tuned it out. I concentrated on shredding every wave of power he emitted from him and hungerly devouring it.

I was still holding the rear lat pose, squeezing and pumping my entire back, when he wrapped his arms under my arms and tried to hug me. My back and chest were so thick that his hands didn’t even reach my nipples. As he kissed and licked the middle of my back he lowered his hands to touch and stroke my abs. Then his hands drifted lower to stroke my cock through the remains of my jeans. I uttered a predatory growl, yet he continued to try to stimulate me. “Is that what you want? My masculinity buried deep in your throat, to cleave your boy pussy, to show you how truly inferior you are?”

“Yes, Daddy, oh god, yes!” he pleaded to my back. “Ever since I saw you in the gym I’ve wanted…needed you to fuck me!”

“On your knees.” I heard his knees hit the ground and felt his trembling hands on my glutes. I put my left index finger under the waistband of my 501 jeans and pulled. The heavy denim fabric on my right side ripped apart as if it was a paper towel. I let the last of my ruined clothes fall away. I kept my head high, expanded my ribcage, and turned around. I felt my meaty tube impact the side of Guy’s head.

“Jesus…FUCKING…CHRIST! THAT’S NOT EVEN HUMANLY POSSIBLE!” he exclaimed. I looked down over my pecs and thought the exact same thing. Guy and I stared at the tube hanging off of me with the same dumbfounded, unbelieving expression. My uncircumsized, vein covered cock was a foot long and looked like it had a girth of at least seven inches.

And it was completely flaccid.

The shaft exited my lower abdomen at a ninety degree angle and then curved to point at the floor because my scrotum was the size of a pomegranate. Not small fruit you find at Aldi, but the size 16, a foot in circumference, massive, heavy balls you find at CostCo.

My cock was like the rest of me, bigger, harder, more powerful than the emotional power could ever make me.

“Oh, FUCK NO! THAT CAN’T BE REAL!” Guy screamed.

Before he could back away I captured his head with my left hand and held him perfectly still. I allowed my cock to rapidly harden. Within a second the foreskin retracted past the head and veins that covered the entire surface throbbed as the shaft jumped to point towards the sky. I used the muscles at the root to lower the shaft until it was aimed directly at Guy’s quivering mouth. I easily brought his head towards me, but at the last instant I pulled my cock to the side. “THIS… IS… WHAT… YOU… WANTED… BOY!” I roared as I repeatedly cock slapped his head to punctuate each word. Each swing of my thick, steel hard hard cock flung pre over his hair and left an angry red mark on his skin. By the time I finished the sentence he was completely overwhelmed by a minute fraction of my power. I swiftly lifted my titanic rod above him. My new manhood could easily crack his skull wide open with a single blow. I think Guy realized that, too. He fixed his eyes on my battering ram and whimpered. The tangy taste of abject fear added a new dimension to all the other emotions that were churning in him. I started the flow of precum and slowly lowered my cock head down the middle of his head leaving a thick, wide trail of clear pre down his forehead, between his eyes and on the ridge of his nose. I held my huge cock head at his lips and waited for him to realize the truth.

He opened his mouth, meekly extended his tiny tongue and licked the pre from the slit. His eyes widened, pupils dilated and he grabbed my shaft with both hands, one hand in front of the other, as if he was holding a baseball bat, opened his mouth and pushed his head down on me. Yes, he realized the truth; compared to me, he was an ant, he was my fuck toy, to be used and discarded at my whim.

He forced his jaw to open wide as he repeatedly rammed his mouth over my cock head and jacked off my shaft with hands that couldn’t even fully encircle it. “GRRR! That’s it, BOY! Fuck your head on ME!”

‘You know I’m having fun and all,’ the annoying voice in my head called Ego said, ‘but I want you to TRY and think about three things. 1) Everyone except him is out to lunch, 2) we don’t know how long me was out, 3) he’s a mundane human. I could seriously hurt him if I keep on going like this. And it doesn’t matter that the tanks aren’t full. Me need to get going.’

Ego was right, I had no idea what time it was or when the other employees would return and I was almost out of control of myself. I released Guy’s head, rolled my shoulders back, and looked skyward. I kept growling while Guy kept wildly sucking, licking, moaning and slobbering over the cock head that couldn’t possibly fit in his mouth and yet did. I let him pleasure me for a minute, then I bent down and wrapped my meaty left hand around Guy’s neck, just under his jaw, and slowly lifted him. He whimpered when the cock head popped out of his mouth. As I lifted him higher his hands left my shaft and started to caress my forearm as if he were trying to jack it off. He stared at me with a timid expression as I pressed him as far above the ground as my arm could go. I pumped my right bicep a few times. Then I looked him in the eyes as I held the single bi pose and growled, “You’ll never know how fucking incredible this feels.”

He squeeked out, “Fuck,” his body twitched, and a half inch wet spot appeared on the jumpsuit fabric that covered his crotch. I held him high for a few more seconds, then lowered him until his eyes were level with mine.

I snarled in his face, then put my right hand at the jumpsuit’s collar, easily tore the heavy canvas garment off of him and scanned the inferior thing I held in my hand. His physique was average for someone who works with their hands, half-way decent chest and shoulders, the beginning of a beer gut. The only thing that was below average was the five inch dick pointing up from a walnut sized scrotum. With disgust I said, “You are weak. Not even a real man. You’re pathetic.” The sense of worthlessness exploded off of him. That emotion was too strong to be fresh. 

Tears flowed down his cheeks. “I know I am, sir,” he silently cried. He really did despise himself.

Shit, I went too far.

I dropped my voice near the infrasound level again and commanded, “Get a gym membership. Take a weightlifting class. Workout consistently. Eat better. Get BIG! You WILL DO THIS!”

He must have mentally pictured himself more muscular because he smiled, relaxed. “I’ll do whatever you say, sir.” he said and squeezed my forearm for a few seconds as if to say thank you. Then his hands took hold of his knees and brought them to his chest. “I’m ready, sir. My hole is yours.”

I brought my cock head to his puckered starfish and blasted a load of sticky, slick precum into him. “I don’t have much time, so this will be hard and quick…” I said. I dropped my voice into infrasound and continued, “...boy!” The building shook and dust fell from the rafters. Guy’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he twitched with another orgasm. A teaspoon of cum splashed his abs. I pulled back my hips and violently thrust them forward and up.

He screamed, “Oh GOD! YOU’RE THICK!” as my cock head split him wide. I pulled completely out and rammed in again, this time only going deep enough to punch his prostate. He took a deep breath, and again screamed at the top of his lungs, “AHHHHFUCK! OH FUCKINGGOD YOU FEEL SOOOOOGOOOD! FUCKME! FUCKME! FUCKMEEEEEE!” He was shaking so hard that I seized his left waist with my right hand to steady him. He started breathing hard, continually screamed and became covered in sweat as my hips became a blur as I fucked him twenty times a second.

His ass was so tight and hot that, to my shame, I only lasted a minute. He realized my cock was growing and hardening as I neared my own orgasm. His hands left my forearm to grasp my downward pointing nipples. He pinched and twisted them and begged, “Breed me! Cum in me!”

My hips involuntarily bucked hard, burying nearly a quarter of my cock deep within his intestines. I felt impossibly huge loads of cum rocket up my urethra and explode in Guy’s gut not once, not twice, but five times in a second before I could gain control of the ejaculations. To prevent me from impaling him further I released his spasming body, pulled back my shoulders, threw back my arms and head, and roared in orgasmic bliss. The next volley of cum launched Guy off my cock and high into the air. He landed with a heavy thump on his ass and back before me. Twenty more times I powerfully shot salvos of huge, white spunk into the air above my head. Each load landed on Guy like a torrential rain storm, painting him in a thick coat of my seed.

When I came down off the oragsmic high, I searched my ruined pants for my belongings; my keys, wallet and phone. Then I grabbed Guy’s jumpsuit and cleaned the sweat, cum and shit off me. By the time I finished cleaning myself Guy had woken up and was scooping up some of the cum that covered him from head to toe. He put his cum covered fingers in his mouth and moaned with pleasure. “Oh, god. I’ve never been fucked so hard.”

Having collected my things, my destroyed clothes and Guy’s jumpsuit I knelt beside Guy and, once again, seized his neck. I lifted him as I stood up. Cum dripped off his toes that dangled in mid air. Panic rose in him as I cut off his arteries and windpipe. He weakly struggled for a second. Just before he passed out I said, “Good night.”

I kicked open the manager’s office door and flung Guy’s limp body into the couch at the other side of the room. The heavy couch was flew back into the wall with a loud crash. His jumpsuit followed him. My attention then turned to the desk, where a computer monitor showed the security camera footage from around the building. I was only concerned with the service bay cameras. I sat down at the desk and, after figuring out which buttons to press, found the two cameras that showed me lifting the truck and fucking Guy. I scrubbed the video to the point when the car lift started to fail and found the section to where I had finished lowering the truck. I had to scrub back and forth over the part where I was lowering the truck because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

“Holy…fuck.” After all my power was expended, both locally and externally, I curled the truck ten times without knowing it.

I copied that footage from both cameras to new files and AirDropped it to my phone. Then I turned my attention to the wires coming out of the monitor. I followed them to a closet door in the office. Opening the door revealed the dealership’s server rack. I ejected the drive labeled “SECURITY CAMS”.

I attached the AirDropped file to an email and sent it off to Doug, the photographer I made my submissive over the weekend. The email read, “You will blur out any faces and any indication where this took place. You will then send it to every news, sports and bodybuilding website. You will NOT reveal where you got this footage, but you may take credit for releasing it. I have more footage on a hard drive that you may use any way you want.”

I checked on Guy to make sure he was still breathing and turned to leave. Then I noticed the nameplate on the desk; “Guy Schmitt”. That little shit was the service MANAGER? Shaking my head I took one of his business cards and stuffed it into my wallet. I opened the Uber app and ordered a ride.

It took awhile, but I finally found the employee’s locker room. Apparently, the dealership has a laundry service because there was a hamper full of green jumpsuits. I looked and found the biggest one there. It belonged to a guy by the name of “Lumpy”. It was greasy, smelled of sweat and was four sizes too small in the chest and five sizes too big in the gut. The suit’s legs were so tight that you could see the calves and quads stretching out the fabric. I couldn’t even get my arms in, so I ripped off the sleeves. I could only get the zipper up to the bottom of my chest, so my pecs were on full display. The only comfortable way to get my cock in was to lay it on my abs. I noticed with gratification that the cock head touched division between the upper two rows of abs. After squeezing myself into the jumpsuit I heard the familiar sounds of an on-its-last-legs car and blaring Norwegian Death Metal.

I ran outside and saw Debbie drive her beat up, silver Hyundai Accent she called Reggy, into the dealership’s parking lot the way she usually drove, like a maniac. The tires loudly complained and the rear end rose, when she saw me and broke way too hard for as fast as she was going. She reached across the passenger seat to throw open the door. Her blond hair, usually in pigtails, looked like a rat’s nest, her mascara ran down her cheeks and she looked more crazed than usual.

“Get the fuck in the car, you GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKER!” she screamed. Her lust and want exploded off of her like a nuclear blast. I was physically pushed back a foot before I could channel that incredibly overwhelming power into me.

I get my left foot and butt in the car and she floors the accelerator before I can get my other foot in and close the door. She peels a half doughnut and rockets out into heavy traffic. Several drivers in either direction slam on their brakes and blare their horns.

Deb poked her head out the window, extended her arm and gave the other drivers her middle finger. “Where the FUCK did you learn to drive? GODDAMN FUCKING ILLINOIS?” She brought herself back into the car as it fishtailed in the lane that took us in the exact opposite direction I needed to go.

“Deb, Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong?”

“What the HELL did you DO to ME?” she yelled as she took the steering wheel with her left hand and pulled down the zipper on Lumpy’s jumpsuit with her right. She roughly grabbed my cock and started stroking. That seemed to, at the same time, calm her down and amp up her mania. “Ever since Monday I can’t stop thinking about your cock. I NEED TO YOU TO FUCK ME!”

Then I noticed the slimy didlos on the driver's side of the floor. They were all huge, some smoothed sided others covered with inch long studs that looked like they would really hurt. Then the scent of wet pussy hit my nose. “Deb, look, I’m sorry. But you got to slow down, ok,” I pleaded. I hadn’t even had a chance to put on my seatbelt.

“FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!” she screamed. She then released my cock, drew her bowie knife from the sheath at her thigh and slashed at my chest. The sharp blade left an inch long gash in my skin. Holy fuck. This wasn’t the prop knife like last time. I put up my hands and sat as far back in the seat as I could while she held the knife at my throat. “I’ve tried getting off. Nothing works! I need to fucking cum so goddamn bad it hurts!” she cried, staring out the windshield with tears in her eyes. “I need to cum so fucking bad.”

After a minute of going way above the speed limit we’re in the rural north of Dane county. Deb started scanning the countryside, looking for something. She apparently found it, because she veered off the road onto a gravel road so hard that the car almost flipped. That road ended in a hay field where she slammed on the brakes, threw the transmission into park and killed the engine. She violently unzipped the jumpsuit, yanked my cock out and stuffed it in her mouth. With wild abandon she sucked, licked and nibbled my cock head and roughly squeezed and jacked my shaft.

It didn’t take much time at all before I was fully erect and steel hard. Deb lifted her head off of me. Spit and pre flowed out of her mouth and she was drenched in sweat as she threw her left leg over me and reached down to the seat back lever. She pushed that and the back of the seat fell backwards taking me with it. She grabbed my cock, pulled aside the crotch of her short shorts, put the head in her pussy lips and impaled herself on me. “GODDAMN! SO…FUCKING…BIG!” she yelled at the top of her lungs and then screamed.

“Deb, ahhh, can you please put the knife away?” That extremely sharp edge was still millimeters away from the major arteries and veins.

She looked at me as if she just noticed I was there, dropped herself onto my chest and started open-mouth kissing me. Her tongue whipped around my mouth like an overpressured garden hose. She started humping as much cock as she could stuff into her when I heard the knife drop to the floor somewhere behind me. She kept repeating, “FUCK ME! DEEPER! HARDER!” over and over as she gyrated her hips and clawed at my chest.

When I was able to capture her glutes I thrust up into her. She shuddered and screeched “MORE! FUCKER MORE!”

‘This is your fault, ya know.’ I heard in my head.

I repeatedly thrust further and further up her cunt. I had a third of my cock in her when I met resistance. Keeping my thrusts at that depth only enraged her. “DEEPER YOU GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKING BASTARD!” she bellowed as she moved her hands from my pecs to my neck. “DEEPER!” she continued and started to squeeze my neck. 

I was in no danger from her strangling me. I effortlessly flexed my sternocleidomastoid and pushed her hands apart. If she wanted to be fucked so deep and hard I’d have to take control of her outside the car. I managed to find the door latch, lifted it and pushed against the door. It didn’t move. Cursing I kicked it with my right foot. The door was ripped off the car and flew thirty yards to land in the alfalfa. With Deb still humping me I cradled her head and gently lifted her out of the car. I fell to my knees and laid her on the plants. She tore off her top as I got my arms out of the jumpsuit. After her beautiful breasts were free she grabbed my shoulders, dug in her nails and pulled me down. I took control by raising her legs over my shoulders, grabbing her hips, rising to my knees and driving my cock into her hard and fast. I pounded her faster and harder on each thrust. When I touched her cervix she screeched and convulsed. “BREAK ME YOU FUCKER!” I looked down where my cock cleaved her. There was still ten inches of exposed cock to use on her. How the hell was she taking what was already in her?

On the next thrust I shattered her cervix. She roared, arched her back and ejaculated a quart of girl cum all over my balls, cock and adonis belt. The next thrust took me to the very core of her womanhood. She screamed incoherently as I pounded deeper and deeper into her. Every fuck drew more wet blasts out of her. Every fuck pilled on another orgasm on top of a long string of earth shattering orgasms and another quart of pusy juice on me. By the time I was impossibly balls deep in her I was ready for my own release.

I slammed into her and held her down on me. Her cunt squeezed and rippled against my shaft as she finally came to her senses. “Bruce?” she weakly said. “Is that you?”

I replied by throwing a double bi pose that even God himself couldn’t come close to. Her pussy clamped down on my throbbing cock as another orgasm ripped through her. “UUUUGH! How the fuck did you get fucking bigger?” She threw back her head and moaned, “GODDD your cock feels good!”

I fell over her, supporting myself with a fist on either side of her head to keep her in place. She raised her hands to my pecs and tried to squeeze the unyielding, hard muscles. “Goddamn! What the FUCK! Your chest can’t be fucking real! You’re GODDAMN FUCKING HUGE!” I smiled and, to thank her for the compliment I flexed the cock buried deep in her. Her hands slipped up to my traps and she tried to dig her fingernails into the skin and muscle as another orgasm ripped through her. I mercilessly fucked her from cock head to balls for the next half hour. Her previous orgasms this time were nothing compared to what I forced out of her now. She clawed my back and chest as she continuously screamed and convulsed under me. Her hard erect nipples were scrapped over my upper abs and chest as her beautiful firm breasts were thrown up and down by my devastatingly powerful thrusts. When I finally couldn’t hold back any more I pulled out of her red swollen pussy, stood up and walked around her to her head. One of her hands cupped a breast, the other was flung out beside her head. She was breathing like she just ran a marathon and was covered head to toe in glistening sweat. I sank to my knees over her head, each knee by her ears. She tongued my ball sack, but I had other plans.

I rotated my hips to bring my slimy cock head to her lips and drove it into her mouth, down her throat and into her chest. Her throat distended as I pushed down, the shape of my cock head clearly defined through her skin. Her ineffective struggles and rippling throat as I violently fucked her upper cunt only drove me closer to the cliff of my own orgasm. All too soon I felt the familiar boulders of cum rocket up my cock and blast into her stomach. I raised my arms and roared, reveling in my physical and sexual domination, as I filled her gut. When I finished and I stood up my cock pulled out of her with a pop. Spit and cum drooled out of her open mouth. She was alive, but unconscious and completely fucked.

I looked down at her over my pecs and wondered what the hell came over her. Then I wondered where the hell the car door was.

‘We fucking idiot.’ Ego admonished me ‘Don’t me remember yesterday? She grabbed our pants and you squeezed pre cum on her fingers. You bet it’s all over the steering wheel. And the door is to your left.’

I hiked up the jumpsuit over my shoulders and I popped Reggy’s trunk looking for some bleach wipes. I found a half used canister and wiped down the car’s cabin. With that done I searched for the car door. There’s no way I could properly repair it so I just lined it up with the door frame and pinched the metal on either side in a few spots. I effortlessly merged the metal on either side together.

With that finished I fished out my phone from the jumpsuit’s pocket. Looked at the time at the top of the screen; 1:00. Fuck. I’ll have to drive like Deb to get to the appointment. I texted Keena, “I’m on my way.” I waited a couple of seconds, but there was no reply.

After I dressed Deb I cradled her in my arms and carried her to the driver side of the car, climbed through the cab and gently deposited her in the reclined passenger seat.

She woke up enough to ask, “Why didn’t you open the door?”

“It’s stuck.” I replied as I fastened her seat belt.

“Oh…ok. I’m getting a new car tomorrow anyway,” she sighed and she fell back asleep. Apparently, the Kesselbaum’s submitted to my last command.

Reggy’s power steering screeched as I turned the car into the clinic’s parking lot. I saw Keena in front of the building dressed in a white long sleeved, loose blouse, thigh length ivory skirt and high heeled shoes (that really showed off her fantastic legs) angrily pacing like a lioness in a zoo cage. A very satiated Deb looked out the window and said, “Is that your boss?” She wolf-whistled and continued, “She’s smok’n hot!” She locked eyes with Keena and, in a low voice I’m sure wasn’t meant for me, said, “I wouldn’t mind a taste of that kitty.” Keena then noticed me driving Deb’s car, stopped pacing and gave me a scowl and a hard, predatory stare. After I parked the car Deb said, “Oh, boy. She looks really fucking pissed. I’d hate to be you.” She turned away from the window to look at me with that bratty, amused expression she had.

“So,” she continued, “you fuck’n her hard, too?”

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Chapter 4

“Come ON, Tizoc!” Atotoztli pleaded as she pulled her brother by the hand deeper into the jungle on a muggy midsummer night. Deeper than any of her village’s hunters had ever dared go. “The metal-skinned men are coming for us!”

“I want mama!” Tizoc cried loudly the way a five year old does when they are scared.

Atotoztli  saw the men laugh as they gutted and dismembered her mother with their swords. The memory made her stomach ache. “SHHH! You have to be quiet!” To appease her younger brother she lied; “Mama is just a little ways ahead. You’ll see her soon if you hurry.”

Tizoc sniffed and wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. “Okay,” he meekly replied and allowed his thirteen year old sister to take him deeper into the realm of the jungle queen.

Her parents had heard rumors of the conquistadors destroying every village on their way to Tenochtitlan. Her father said that Nanauatzin would shine down on the invaders, burning them where they stood. If Nanauatzin wouldn’t help them, then Quetzalcoatl would blow them back across the sea to where they came from. Her mother still worried despite her father’s faith in the gods.

Late at night, as Tecciztecatl's full face smiled down upon the village, Atotoztli woke to their home filled with thick smoke. She was looking for her parents when she heard her mother screams coming from outside. She ran to the entrance and froze in terror; her father’s head was just inside the doorway, but the rest of him lay armless at the feet of a pair of tall men with metal skin. They had her mother on her knees before them. “Whore! Where’s your gold!” one of them screamed.

Atotoztli’s mother, not understanding, pleaded, “Please! Leave us alone! We have nothing for you!” This enraged the man with the sword in his hand. Atotoztli gasped as he plunged his weapon through her mother’s neck and into her chest. Her mother, eyes wide open and mouth in a silent scream, tilted her head towards her beloved daughter. She mouthed one word before the man eviscerated her and hacked off her arms; RUN.

Before the men turned towards Atotoztli an arrow drilled through the neck of the man that killed her mother. With a rage filled yell the other man drew his sword and stormed out of sight towards the source of the attack. Before he could return she woke up her brother. She picked him up as best she could, shielded his eyes from the sight of their parent’s bodies and left her home. They both ran into the jungle.

“Atotoztli! I’m tired! Mama! Where are you!” Tizoc whined.

“Be quiet!” Atotoztli urged. A sudden gust of cold air replaced the hot, humid night air and made the hair on her arms stand up.

Then she heard the deep growl that made the trees shiver and her heart pound in her chest. 

The people of her village told stories of a large black female jaguar that roamed the lush jungle foothills to the west. They said that the cat hunted and killed anyone that dared enter her domain. Atotoztli didn’t believe the stories until one day, three years ago, her neighbor went hunting at the base of the mountains. When he didn’t return that evening, her father and the men of the village formed a group and went out in search of him. They returned the next day. Her father refused to tell her what happened to the neighbor. She did hear him talk, in a hushed voice, to her mother. The men only found her neighbor’s left hand, and in that hand was clutched long, thick, black fur.

Atotoztli spun in the direction the sound came from only to see tree branches start to bend to the wind in the darkness. “How dare you,” a deep, angry voice said behind her and her brother, “enter my realm!”

She heard a twig snap to her left. She broke out in a cold sweet as she twisted towards that sound, trying to keep herself between whatever was talking and Tizoc.

A sudden flash of sheet lightning briefly illuminated the jungle before her. The trees cast shadows blacker than the darkest night upon the ground. In one of those shadows a pair of large yellow feline eyes trapped her where she stood. The thunder from the lightning was replaced by a growl that sent the icy chill of fear through her veins. The shadow advanced from the brush, showing its snarled lips and long, sharp teeth. 

Atotoztli came face to face with a black jaguar twice her height.

She shoved Tizoc behind her and reached for anything at her feet she could use to defend them. All she found was a stick as thick as her thumb and as long as her forearm. She raised the stick and swung at the big cat’s nose with all her might. Atotoztli was surprised when the stick struck the jaguar’s face and knocked the huge cat’s head to the side. The predator slowly brought her head back with teeth bared. A paw bigger than her father’s head ripped the weapon out of Atotoztli’s hand. She cried out when a sharp thorn on the stick cut open her palm. The jaguar took a menacing step forward, then stopped and sniffed the air. Before Atotoztli could pull her hand back the jaguar lunged forward and licked her hand.

“What’s going on? I wanna see!” Tizoc loudly complained behind her.

The big cat took a step backward, her head lowered. She gave an unearthly screech as she shook her head so violently that it was a blur. Then, a few seconds later, she walked up to the children and sat down.

“What are you two little ones doing out this late at night?” the jaguar said in a quiet, pleasant, kind voice.

Atotoztli was rigid with fear. This was the queen of the jungle. “I...I…” she stammered.

“It’s alright girl. I will not harm you. What is your name?”

“She’s Atotoztli...” her brother exclaimed as he broke free of his sister’s grasp, moved in front of her, puffed up his chest and pointed to himself with a thumb, “...and I’m Tizoc!”.

“Why, such royal names! Your parents must be a king and a queen!”

Atotoztli finally found her voice while Tizoc raised his hand above his head to try to pet the jaguar’s chest, “Our village was attacked by men with metal skin.” She grabbed Tizoc’s hand, pulled him to her and clutched him in her arms. “We’re...we’re going to meet Papa and Mama in the jungle.” Tizoc didn’t recognize the lie, but the big cat did.

“I see,” the queen said to Atotoztli. She lowered her head to Tizoc and continued, “I think I saw a strong, handsome man and the most beautiful woman pass by here a while ago. Why don’t you run ahead a little bit and see if they are there.”

Tizoc tore out of Atotoztli’s grasp and bound through the bush yelling, “Mama! Papa!”

The queen followed Tizoc with her head. Quietly, so Tizoc couldn’t hear, she said, “You and the boy stay by the large tree a stone’s throw away.” She then snapped her head to stare into Atotoztli’s eyes with concern. Thunder rumbled in the distance. “You’ll be safe there. I don’t know why, but I must protect you both.” Then the queen vanished into the bush.

“Tizoc! Wait for me!” Atotoztli said in the loudest whisper she could manage.

The queen silently ran through the jungle until she was on the outskirts of the village. Several homes were engulfed in flames. Many people of the village lay dead in the ground between the homes. She counted one hundred men in chest plate armor forcing the living to their knees before decapitating them with heavy swords or raping them. She growled in anger; how dare they! This was her domain they were trespassing on. She turned and started her way back to the children. She vowed to deal with the soldiers, but she was compelled to take care of the children first. There was another village on the other side of the mountain that could take them in. That journey would be difficult, but she was positive they could make it before daybreak.

She smelled blood and metal when she reached the big tree she told the girl to meet her at.

She found the boy a little ways away from the tree in a pool of his own blood. The wound at his neck almost decapitated him. Then she heard a teenage girl’s scream nearby. In a panic she ran as quickly as she could toward the source of the sound. She came to a full stop, terror filling her mind when she saw, in a small clearing, the girl on her back, pinned to the ground by a sword through her chest and a massively muscular man in armor standing over her dead body.

The mightiest of all the jungle cats leapt the diameter of the clearing, knocking the man to his back as she flew over him. Growling, she lightly landed and started to circle her prey, trying to decide how much pain he would be in before he died. Her thoughts were interrupted when the soldier scrambled to his feet and attempted to pull his sword out of the girl’s chest. She rushed forward and swiped at the armor plated chest, launching him into the air. He landed on his side ten feet away with his sword in his hand. Before the invader could raise his weapon, the huge jaguar crouched, dug her rear claws into the ground and pounced. When she landed on him, she made sure that a monster paw crashed on the forearm of his sword arm. The man screamed when the bones of his arm were crushed under her weight.

Now that the big man was immobilized, she took her time metering out her justice. She extended her razor sharp claws of her free paw and slowly raked them from the man’s left ear to his chin, shredding the flesh and meat and gouging deeply into bone. When his screams died down, she demanded, in a deafening, brutal, cold voice, “WHERE IS YOUR COMMANDER!?”

Even though the man was in agony, his eyes grew wide at hearing her voice. When he didn’t immediately answer she growled, snapped her jaws in front of his face and roared, “ANSWER ME!”

“The commander is ten miles away at the base camp!” the man screamed.

She didn’t believe him, so she gave him a little encouragement by making the right side of his face match his left side. “TRY AGAIN!”

This time the man told her that the commander was in the village. With further questioning she was told where the sentries and armaments were. When she was satisfied that the man had answered all her questions truthfully, she put her right paw on the armor, just below the collar, denting the metal. Her extended claws pierced through the thick steel plate as if it was water, punched through his skin, muscle and bone. She took great delight in hearing the metal screech and the man’s deafening screams as she very slowly drug her claws down his entire torso, slicing him open from neck to groin. This wouldn’t kill him, at least not right away. She threw back her head and roared a call to all the lesser predators in the area.

An ocelot she was quite fond of was the first to answer the call. As the small cat drew near the man flayed his free arm at it. The queen grabbed his upper arm in her jaws and crushed the muscle and bone, being careful not to puncture an artery or vein. She wanted him to live long enough to feel the flesh being ripped off of his bones. She stepped off the man and walked behind the ocelot. After she nudged the cat with her nose, it pounced on the man, bit into his arm and ripped off a good-sized piece of flesh and muscle. As she turned to return to the village she could hear the fallen leaves and bush rustle against the multitude of paws rushing towards their immobilized meal and the man’s screams of horror and exquisite pain.

She ran until she couldn’t hear the screams anymore, then stopped in front of a gargantuan tree. She lifted her front paws to lean against the tree. She let her grief wash over her; she was supposed to protect the children. She failed. Her massive, powerful body started to shake with every feline sob.

As her mourning morphed to rage, so her body changed. Bones cracked and reformed only to fracture again as her skeleton rearranged itself. The coat of thick, black fur receded into her mahogany colored skin. Limbs changed shape and length or shortened. Fingernails replaced claws. Sobs turned into primal screams of wrath. A bolt of lightning struck the mountain, illuminating the nude, almost human female form leaning against the mighty tree.

The queen dug her fingers into the hard tree trunk.

They were children.

She snarled as she contracted her back and shoulder muscles and tried to pull her hands apart.

She was supposed to protect them.

She bared her teeth, uttered a feral growl and engaged every single muscle in her now human body. A crack appeared between her hands.

She failed.

Muscles bulged and rolled as they fought for space on her frame. Her skin stretched until it was as taught as a drum head. Existing superficial veins grew fat as new veins were created to supply her expanding skeletal muscle with nutrients, oxygen, power.

The thunder shook the forest like a vengeful god bellowing in divine wrath as she tore the old tree in half. The queen, protector of the foothills, filled her lungs with air, threw back her head and roared louder than the thunder. The full moon hid its face behind a thunderhead, as if Tecciztecatl himself was afraid of what was coming.

Rayco, with a torch in his hand, rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he staggered to his post to relieve Iago. Rayco hated wearing chest plate armor, hated taking third watch and he hated this putrid smelling village. “Iago! Where in the name of all that’s holy are you?” he said when he reached his assigned patch of dirt at the edge of the jungle. “Comandante will have your hide if you’re sleeping again! Iago?” He saw Iago sitting against a tree. “Asleep again! Can I have your blanket after they execute you?” When there was no reply, Rayco kicked Iago’s foot. Iago’s severed head fell off of his shoulders and rolled down to stop at Rayco’s feet. A bright flash of lighting briefly illuminated the scene. Iago’s mouth screamed a silent warning as his horror filled eyes focused on Rayco’s. Rayco stepped back in terror, dropped the torch and drew his sword, but before he could utter a sound or prepare to swing his weapon a tall nude woman with dark skin suddenly appeared before him.

Without a sound she punched her hand through the thick plate armor, through his abdominals and ruptured his stomach and pancreas. He involuntarily dropped his sword as she curled him with a single arm until his feet were dangled in midair and his eyes were level with hers. Rayco saw her face, full of hatred, as she jerked her hand further into him. Blood regurgitated from his mouth and splashed against her massively muscular shoulders and chest. She forced her arm further into him until her bulging, corded forearm disappeared in the hole. When her hand broke through his diaphragm she seized his rapidly beating heart and ripped it out of him. With an almost casual swipe of a hand she tore his jaw off of his head and rammed his still beating heart down his throat. Before his dead feet even touched the ground she was gone.

Comandante Quixano awoke with a start in his tent. It was still night and something wasn’t right, he could feel it in his bones. It didn’t help that his orders made no sense. He and his men were ordered to take a many days’ long march off the path to the heathen’s capital to clear out this insignificant thing the savages called a village. Frankly, he didn’t see the point. The barbarians hardly offered any challenge to his men. They eliminated nearly the entire population in less than an hour. Only a few had escaped to the jungle.

Then he heard it; between claps of rolling thunder he heard the sound of a strangled scream. He leapt, as well as his old, corpulent, well-fed bulk would allow him, from his cot and grabbed his saber. He slowly pulled open the flap of his tent and was greeted by a vision of hell fifty yards away.

Lightning and the burning homes glinted off the naked back of a tall, muscular dark skin woman. Her long, pitch black hair that hung down to her lower back couldn’t hide her broad shoulders capped by globes of deltoids nor her wide powerful back. Quixano couldn’t help but become aroused by her shape. All carnal thoughts were banished from his mind though when he noticed the bodies…no body parts…of almost one hundred of his men scattered on the ground at her feet. Slowly, he raised her arms to shoulder height. In each of her hands was one of his soldiers’s heads. Both men flailed his arms and kicked their legs as if trying to break free. The woman/demon slowly spread her arms wide until each man was at her side. Then, explosively, she brought her hands together. Quixano heard a sound like a cannon report as his men’s heads were pulverized against each other. He gasped and backed away from the tent’s entrance. His saber fell from his limp hand when he tripped on his own feet and fell to his back.

With nothing above their necks, the twitching corpses fell from the queen’s fists. She slowly lowered her arms, closed her eyes, tilted her head back and filled her lungs with the cold night air. She could practically taste the ozone from the approaching storm mixed in with the blood and brains that covered her from the top of her head to her toes. The promised rains would clean the foreign filth from her and the village. Abruptly, she felt an arrow feather touch her side. She snapped her head down and opened her eyes. A soldier with his arm and sword raised as if to strike was before her, yet he wasn’t moving. The soldier uttered a gurgling sound and then fell to his back. An arrow had flown clean through his neck.

The queen spun around and found an archer two hundred feet away. With his head raised, he stood tall and proud with his bow at his side. The queen and the marksman regarded each other for a moment until she heard a metallic clang from a tent to her left. She wheeled in that direction and sprinted into the tent. The commander was hurriedly packing his belongings into a sack when she ran into him and pushed him through the back of the tent. He landed hard on his back twenty yards away. The impact drove the air from his lungs.

She leapt through the hole and landed at the prone fatman’s feet. To her he looked like a bloated leech. “Señorita! I have gold! It’s yours if you let me leave!”

She responded by stomping on his feet, driving his boots into the ground and crushing all twenty-six bones in them.

Through his screams of pain he yelled, “Mercy! I beg you! In the name of the Virgin, mercy!”

She replied with a hissing growl, “I shall grant you all the mercy you showed them!” and dropped to her knees to seize his ankles. With hardly a thought she twisted and pulled his lower legs out of the knee joint. Skin, muscle and tendon were ripped apart as she tore his legs off below the knee. He started to bleed out, so she worked faster to ensure he felt everything before he died.

She sat on his thighs and plunged her hands through the armor and into his spherical gut. She pulled her hands apart, ripping the breast plate in half and splitting his abdomen wide open, exposing his internal organs to the night wind. Next, she moved to squat above his exposed gut to capture his flailing arms by the wrists. As casually as one would swat at a fly she yanked each arm off and threw them behind her. His face started to become pale as he lost more blood. She sat on his chest and, using her powerful thighs, squeezed his ribcage to force more blood to his brain while her knees sealed the squirting arteries at his shoulders. She felt every rib give up under pressure and fracture in multiple places. His eyes bugged out. His shrieks of pain went up an octave as he begged for his life. She placed a hand on either side of his head and used her thumbs to keep his eyes open.

She screamed, “THEY WERE CHILDREN!” Confusion crossed the coward’s face as she began to squeeze. Her pecs grew in size and definition and lifted her ample breasts as she slowly brought her hands together. First his face deformed as the bones flexed under the pressure. Then his eyes started to bug out. Still she applied slowly increasing pressure until a crack appeared between his eyes. She ended it by powerfully eliminating the distance between her hand and pulverizing his skull. His brains splashed against her mixing in with the rest of the filth. She raised her head and bellowed an unearthly roar of rage.

The corpse under her twitched as the nerves received their last impulse. She slumped forward and she felt large raindrops splash against her back, as if the earth mourned the loss of the children with her.

Her rage had been sated, but her guilt remained.

She shook as the adrenaline was flushed from her system and the gentle rain washed the human filth from her. When she looked up she saw, in the gray pre-dawn light, the archer standing a respectful distance from her. She quickly stood up and rushed to stand regally before the man. “Do you know Atotoztli and Tizoc?” she demanded.

The man, slightly taken aback at not being thanked for saving her life, looked upwards and replied, “Yes, they are my niece and nephew.”

The queen quickly sniffed the air; he didn’t carry the same scent as the children. “I’m sorry,” she said. “They didn’t survive the attack.”

The archer’s face slowly fell, as did his eyes. “Then…I am the only one left.”

She told him where he would find the children. “You will build a tomb for them out of the remains of their home. Construct it in the center of the village,” she commanded.

He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “And who are you to demand…” His eyes grew wide and the blood drained from his face as she slowly metamorphosed into a huge jaguar taller than him. He fell to a knee, planted his palms on the ground and lowered his head to avert his eyes. Violent tremors of fear ran throughout him as he stammered, “M…my Queen! I...I…I will d…do as you command!” Two monstrous paws moved forward to fill his sight. He felt her hot breath at the back of his neck and back and heard her growl.

“When you are done you have my pleasure to go through my foothills to leave this place. Go to the village on the other side of the mountain. If you return I will feast on your flesh!” He then heard her snort and run off into the jungle. The brave archer, trembling with fear, didn’t move until the storm eased and the sun rose.

For thirty years some sort of animal would spend a midsummer day in front of the tomb that held the distant offspring of the Man. At first a huge jungle cat would lie motionless in the sun. In the following years other mammals or birds would appear. Sometimes they would bring berries or colorful flowers. This time, the last time, a tall statuesque dark skinned woman with short, shoulder length hair and piercing black eyes sat on her knees in front of the crypt. She laid a bouquet of white flowers below the stone that bore the children’s names.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, Atotoztli and Tizoc. You were so strong, Atotoztli, defending your brother like that.” She gave a sorrowful chuckle. “You nearly took my head off with that stick. And you, Tizoc, you were the bravest soul I’ve ever known. Even though I only knew you for a short while, I miss you everyday. You would have families and children of your own now if I...”

The midmorning sun shone down on the tomb. The jungle had reclaimed all the homes in the deserted village. Only the tomb remained unnaturally free of the overgrowth. The trees swayed in the wind while all around her the jungle was alive with buzzing insects and calling birds. There was so much life on this world.

It took a long time for her, the being that mowed down one hundred heavily armed and armored Spaniards like they were weeds, to summon the courage to continue. “This is the last time I’ll visit you. There are other children that I can help and I…I have to move on. I will never forget you both.” 

She raised herself on her knees to brush fallen leaves off the name plaque on the foot of the structure. She read it for the last time.

Here lies Atotoztli and Tizoc
Beloved children of Huitzilihhuitlf and Keena
May they find peace in Nanauatzin’s arms

She touched her fingers to her lips, then to the names carved into the stone so long ago. “Good bye,” the queen of the jungle and spawn of the Alien said before she rose and left her domain forever.

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2 hours ago, Floridaboi said:

Any chance for a continuation to this awesome story?

I come here multiple times a hoping for an update to this. Don’t get my hopes up @Floridaboi!

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