October 2022 Sketches

One last treat for Halloween! A ravenous werehog on the prowl and a demi-human merchant expanding his wares, as picked by our Beefcake-tier patrons. Enjoy!

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Everyone knows that taking on the curse of a werewolf leads to an insatiable, bestial hunger, one that drives the cursed individual more than any impulse or instinct. It's the sort of hunger that gnaws at the very soul, and no one was learning just how deeply felt it was than Sonic. Cursed with his own lycanthropy, the werehog had brought a whole new dimension to that name, as that hunger mixed with the hedgehog's incredible speed had led him on a number of unstoppable rampages to sate his hunger, his chosen quarry, chili dogs, completely defenseless against such a beast. However, his rampage may finally be crawling to a stop- not because the werehog had expunged his curse or because his hunger had abated- no, the werehog was only slowing down just because his own body's weight had finally outpaced his natural speed.

As it turns out, a werehog's metabolism just couldn't keep up with his appetite. He had ballooned into four times the were-creature he used to be; his wild, dark blue fur was stretched thin over a soft, bulbous gut as big as a boulder, and only growing bigger- it would refuse to be contained, loudly grumbling for its next meal of even bigger chili dogs. He had become soft and heavy all over- his round, blubbery thighs jiggled with each step, his overly ripe rear spilled out of his sweatpants, and his once toned chest had plumped up to a pair of overstuffed pillows. His large arms were thickly insulated, and what muscle there still was buried under the fat was mainly used to lift generous servings to the werehog's hungry mouth. There seemed to be no end in sight- and Sonic's bestial hunger overwhelmed every thought in his head except what would happen when the sun came up.

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Hammer knew that trying his own merchandise was foolhardy, but when an opportunity came to finally put one over some of the big lugs that always shoved their strength in his face, he gave in to temptation. The mysterious serum had transformed the rat-like demi-human into a mountain of muscle- his powerful, trunk-like legs coiled with power in every step, threatening to tear his shorts apart; his sprawling back was like the broadside of a battleship, and he had already lost a gears in the cleft of his canyon-like chest. His arms surged with might, biceps bigger than his head inflating with the slightest flex or curl.

The sheer bulk piled on to his frame meant a certain loss of flexibility, and no clothes, besides a long-suffering pair of shorts clinging to his thighs, could be found to encase his muscles, leaving the half-naked merchant to blush, his tail nervously whipping around his chiseled glutes and sculpted thigh. Deep down, though, he felt that unbridled strength was worth it. He felt powerful, and the muscles sculpted on to him were hard as steel, like he had only ever dreamed of- he hadn't tested if he could deflect a bullet with just the flex of his mighty pecs, but he was certain he could crush metal in his hands, he might finally be able to reach for a bigger role in life, literally- if only the thought of the spotlight falling on him didn't leave him blushing all the harder. Still, this new reality was starting to grow on him. When he flexed any part of his new body, and saw such immense muscle tighten and bulge under his skin, feeling that raw sense of power in his own body, he knew he had made more than a fair trade. Perhaps his old partner Rico could even track down more of the serum he had taken… to sell, of course. But what sort of merchant would he be if he weren't certain of his product's quality? More taste-testing might just be required.