Reality Warping is not for Subs

The world shifted.

Pat walked down the hallway, the college sophomore trying not to make eye contact with anyone. He was a nerd by nature, thick glasses, pocket protector, and everything, and a shy one at that. But today he was even more averse to social contact than usual. Last night he had... well, he wasn't exactly sure what he had done. One minute, he was thinking about how cool it would be to have an enormous dick, and then the next, he had one. So there he was the next morning, walking down the hall, carrying his books in one hand and trying to hide his massive bulge with the other. Luckily, it seemed like nobody noticed, or at least, they were polite enough to pretend. But there was a certain horse who absolutely noticed...

Char hadn't just noticed, he'd had a bit of a crisis about it. He'd been up late that last night struggling over some particularly bullshit math homework when he'd heard his roommate moaning in his bed. The horse went over to give him a hard time... when he saw him visibly growing, swelling downstairs like he was hit by a second puberty in a second. What was worse, as soon as it was over, Char's brain started telling him his roommate had ALWAYS been this way, that his meat was legendary on campus and Char only bullied him because he was jealous.

But Char had seen the change, though, and he knew better. He was jealous, sure, but the reason he always bullied the little nerd was because Char was -the- stallion. He was the man on top and everybody he talked to loved it that way. If the little hyena was unlocking superpowers rather than accepting that... Char could make use of that. Some soul searching over the morning had made him realize exactly what he needed to do.

"Hey meat!" Char snuck up behind his roomie and shoved the 'yena's ears between his pecs, he'd just finished a workout to get himself properly pumped... and sweaty. The little nerd was gay and terrible at hiding it, and that'd be his in. "I see you finally decided to start my training regimen, get yourself some meat as big as mine~" Char projected as much confidence as possible... despite knowing full well his dick wasn't half his roomies size now.

Pat yelped as he was surprised by the huge brute, like he did every time. You'd think he'd hear the massive stallion coming, but nope, he was always stuck in his own head, thinking about Nerd Shit - though today of course, he was thinking about something else.

His dick lurched at the physical contact from the stud, which, normally wasn't a problem, but considering just how much he was sporting now, well... It made things difficult. "I uh... yeah, sure," he said, blushing, trying in vain to adjust his growing erection, but there was no hiding something that big. The damn thing was already down by his knees, each moment only getting harder, longer, and visibly throbbing through his jeans. Whatever was listening to him last night was listening again, and liked what it was hearing. Something was building, something powerful, something ineffable, something... Big.

The world shifted.

Pat strolled on into the dorm room, the little guy grinning as he looked around. Just the one bed, nerdy posters everywhere. "Heya roomie," he says to the total stranger, the 5-foot-nothing yeen sitting down on the second bed that's totally been there the whole time. He looks down at a pile of you dirty clothes, prodding some plain white briefs with his foot. "Nice boxers. Pink's a great colour," he said, the underwear changing before his very eyes - but of course, they've always been pink boxers. Nice and roomy, comfortable.

"Huh? Oh, sure," Charlie said, barely looking up from his computer. He had entirely too much engineering homework to do, and his roomie HAD to be used to being ignored by now. The equally short human didn't have many assets beside his brain, being rather fat and with drab, frizzy hair, but at least he wasn't super LACKING in any way. He actually had been made fun of, once, for being a 'brief wearer' by somebody who saw his nerdy t-shirt and nebbish attitude, but he could at least say that he didn't do that. They pinched his balls too much.

Pat smirked. Engineering homework. What a huge nerd. Well, he'd certainly be a huge something, once the yeen was done with him. "Are these new shoes?" he asks, holding up an old pair of brown shoes. Drab, functional, a normal size. "Nikes, nice. You gotta special order yours, right? They're like what, size... 15?" he asks, peering at the label, spying a perfectly average 'size 9' on the label before they shifted and changed in his paws to something more athletic, more expensive, and significantly larger.

"Yes yes I wear clownshoes, no it's not as big as you'd expect, no that doesn't mean it's not still pretty big." Char waved off the questions, trying to focus on a particularly tedious set of derivatives. "I'm used to the whole giant feet routine. Honestly, if I -needed- the help to special order them, I'd put pics online or something, but I don't so they're just the thing I stand on. Are you just bored tonight?" Charlie briefly turned around, was the smirking hyena man slightly shorter? Nah, same as always.

Pat was slightly shorter!. "I'm always bored! It's like, my thing," he said, tail wagging, and  his tongue lolling out. "That white tank's looking good on you, by the way. You buy a smaller size? Nice and tight - good for showing off."

"No, just, hitting the gym to stay healthy is SORT OF paying off... I guess..." Char shifted the tank top across his torso, the cotton catching his gut awkwardly, but he admitted he pulled it off. Obliviously bench pressing and curling because 'that seemed like a workout thing' had started to pay off, and he had some decently meaty pecs and arms to support it. "You could workout instead of being bored, you know, with my major it's a miracle I have time for any emotions at all!"

"Oh yeah you spend sooooo much time studying. Please, you're top of the class and you barely study at all, Mr. Brain-Genius." Pat pointed at one of the posters, which now was a certificate for making the Dean's List. "You could be teaching this stuff, honestly."

"They still assign too much damn homework," Char grumbled, flying through the list of tedious busywork as he tried to finish up for the night so he could make some progress on his social life. His long brown hair was in a silky ponytail, his skin cleared up as he found himself with a lot more time to spend on self-care, suddenly, and also for the past several months. "And is that a request for me to teach it to you? Because if you want a more stimulating major I can certainly talk to Dean Carol."

Pat shook his head. "Nah, I'm good," he says, wandering over to your dresser, absently rifling through it. "Nice jocks," he says, picking up an oversized pair of boxers. "First name-basis with the dean, eh? Is that related to this stack of 3XL condoms, hmm?" he asked, motioning to a stack of trading cards.

"Hey! Leave the jock straps alone. The smell never comes out and I've had to deal with people trying to sell them," Charlie scooted back in his chair, shifting position, trying to find a comfortable resting spot for the thirteen inch monster between his legs. "And 'of course not' that relationship would be 'incredibly unprofessional', she just really respects my 'academic accomplishments'." Also, she was tight enough down there that for her safety they could only really do oral.

Pat chuckled. "Heh, yeah, I bet you get that a lot. Lucky you, must be the horseshoe above the door," he says, the extra-large piece of iron nailing itself into place. "I bet the guys at the gym really respect your 'academic acomplishments' too, must be why the showers fill up just as you're finishing your workout..."

"Well that was..." Char struggled to talk as his face warped and shifted, mouth extending in front of him mid sentence, "it's hard to..." Char's teeth fell out, immediately replaced by much wider ones, bones cracked, flesh swelled, his face becoming a snout as thick chestnut fur grew in all over his body, his hair growing wilder as a gap formed in his chair for a tail to pop out, just brushing the floor as he changed, his mind refusing to acknowledge it. "I can't exactly call it a good luck charm when it's just a shoe! I mean is a disembodies foot lucky for a rabbit? Mom bought it as a college gift and I didn't have the heart to tell her I don't wear shoes these days."

The Hyena’s tail wagged with eager energy as Char’s body became the proper stallion stud he were always meant to be. "Why not? Nobody makes them big enough for you anymore?" He laid stomach-down on his bed, holding his head up in his hands, legs kicking gently in the air behind him. "'Cause that's..." He wasn't ready to say 'hot,' not just yet, anyway. "Impressive."

"What? No, the farrier custom makes them, usually, hell that enormous thing probably WOULD fit me," Char waved an enormous, fuzzy hand to the pinned up shoe, "my hooves have just gotten... weirdly durable since I hit puberty. Dunno what that's about." Char was actually lying, his hooves were relatively normal, he just hated wearing shoes, especially since he was indoors and around the computer as much as he was, he knew it wasn't exactly healthy, but he was built enough that his superman routine was rarely questioned.

“Yeah, puberty's weird man. Especially yours, since it hasn't stopped yet..." He smirked, almost able to smell the hormones coursing through your body with renewed vigor. "Pretty sure you grew another inch last week, that shirt's starting to ride up your abs..."

"Well I'm only 19, that's not unheard of," Char slouched slightly, having to duck a bit for his 7 foot frame to sit at the standard issue desk, bending over like that typically just pulled his shirt up more, the massive cliff of his pecs often getting the tank top tangled and revealing the bottom of his six pack. "And it's not like I don't get USE out of the permanent anabolism or the frequent boners."

"It's 'not unheard of', he says. Dude, those hormones of yours are so powerful, it's like you produce your own steroids. You're probably the biggest guy on campus. Biggest 19-year-old I've ever seen, anyway."

"All true but it's still not unheard of!" Char insisted as his tank top disappeared almost entirely between a set of enormous pecs, an eight pack revealed in its entirety as his thighs managed to bulge even the cargo shorts he was wearing. "Some men are just manlier than others, some puberties just go long, there are some real monsters in the world who are almost as big as I am!" Okay, technically, Char -did- have the current world record for blood testosterone levels, but he was pretty sure that was gonna give him heart disease and not worth bragging about.

"Dude, it's you, you're twice the man as everyone else." He rifled through Char’s drawers, before tossing a jockstrap - a jockstrap that smells even more male than it did before, and one that's clearly been made for somebody with two knee-knocking dicks. "Wish I had the confidence to wear that, and only that, to class and around town, the way you do. Hell, sometimes you don't even wear that." He blushed, sitting back down on the bed in an attempt to hide his boner.

"Hey, it's a medical thing!" Char protested weakly... before shrugging, massive shoulders heaving as he did, his body covered in nothing but chestnut fur and hundreds of pounds of muscle, "Okay it WAS a medical thing when I was, like, 15. These days it's to give partners easy access, but the current theory is that me extra dick is an adaptation to help me relieve my hypermasculity more efficiently, do you really want to see what happens when a body like this gets pent up?"

Pat blinked, staring at that massive bod, watching as muscles bulge and flex at even the slightest movements, watching Char’s crotch shift as those two cocks THROBBED away. "...I mean, kinda, yeah," he said, tail wagging behind him, his boner impossible to hide at this point.

The -BLAST- of musk that hit the hyena on those last changes almost made him cum on the spot, just being in the same room as Char was like shoving his nose directly into the sheath of a porn star and taking deep breaths. Fat, thick white loads dripped slowly from the ceiling and every piece of furniture in the room, cum thicker than tar coating each surface, Char furiously fapped a cock in each hand, a massive rope of cum firing from each of them with a deafening THUD as the loads hit the ceiling and stuck there, only slowly oozing down. "Ugh, damnit, that's twelve... why did I think I could skip this morning?"

Pat wobbled, dizzy from the overwhelming masculine scent, his tented shorts soaked with pre. "Damn, that's just from skipping this morning?" He wiped some of that thick, white spunk from his face, the stuff almost as thick as glue. Fuck, he'd never gonna get that smell out of his fur. "I can't help but wonder what a few day's worth of buildup is like..."

Char turned around, chair struggling to rotate through the SWAMP of cum over a foot deep on the floor. Char held his cocks to his chest, constantly pouring tar-like pre over his slab-like pecs, the horse funneling them down his abs as they slowly poured.

He looked at the little hyena in front of him. The little, reality warping hyena. He had protocols for this, he knew that if he ever went more than 48 hours without cumming, his production would overtake his max output and he'd never stop getting more pent up. He knew that the only way it would ever happen was if somebody MADE him, even if he couldn't remember how or why.

So, his roommate, then, had some kind of magic. Well, it made sense, he had no other ideas why such a tiny male would be assigned to him when literally everybody on campus was begging for the opportunity.

"I'm so sorry pet, I thought I had a warning on the door, when I get this bad, exposure is dangerous. The last people who got this soaked are still worshipping me like a god..."

Pat gulped, staring as those massive cocks continued in their constant deluge of cum. He wiggled his toes in the foot-deep sea of jizz, struggling to wade through the thick white tar. The heat Char and the cum were giving off was enough to make him sweat - or maybe he was that aroused? Could hardly blame the guy, could you? "Heh, I was wondering why we had guests," he said. Two hunks from the football team could hardly keep their hands off you, groping at cockmeat and gulping down whatever seed they could, one on either side of their new horse god. "But then, you're used to being treated like royalty, what with being royalty and all..." He moved forwards towards you, slowly... only to "trip" on something under all that gunk, and land face-first on Char’s balls. He was just a bit more resistant to the hormonal haze than most, but he was certainly not immune.

Char fidgeted idly with his crown, currently being worn as a cockring, a convenient place for it since he was always hard anyway. "Well, monarchy has many benefits! You have somebody who can be trusted to act with efficiency, they have to worry not about becoming ruler, only ruling well, and of course with Prima Nocta around you spread around those perfect genes all the more..." He stared at the hyena, barely even registering his worshipers, he'd had so many, after all, but he'd never had a god as a servant before. Char mashed his face deeper into his balls. "You're studying for royal scientist, right? Do you prefer the 'make the king stronger' initiative or the 'make the king smarter' initiative? I believe my subjects still have a right to choose~"

Pat grunted as that huge paw ground him into those huge cumfactories, the small yeen able to hear each gurgle and glorp as he was pushed up against them. "I'm uh, going for a double major, as it were." He inches his snout forward, licking some of that royal seed from those incredible cumgutters, the taste alone enough to make him cum - though the event barely registers as an orgasm by Char’s standards. "Although... focusing on 'smarter' for now might make for greater results in 'bigger' in the long run..."

Char felt reality remodel this time, a distant corner of his mind preserving the previous reality with the help of his new eidetic memory. He remembered now a time when he was a more foolish king, flooding his room instead of having cum-harvesters installed all across the campus. A time when the football players worshiping his cocks were MERELY huge instead of superhuman in their own right, able to profit from the masculine perfection he boiled out of his every drop of production. "Servants! Away from me. I wish to test my body. My virility is exponentially greater than my strength, but does that not mean that I should be far stronger? Fetch me the greatest weight you can. What you can haul over several hours may be enough for a curl."

The servants obey, of course, as saddened as they are to part from their powerful, virile lord. They were extremely horny for His Majesty, as they should be, but they're even more loyal than that. Soon, assembled in the courtyard, is a colossal barbell, with several tones of weight on either side. A whole team of even the strongest normal men couldn't hope to budge it - but King Char was far, far greater than any team of normal men. A crowd gathers around the edges, eager to watch their king show off - and more importantly, grow ever stronger still...

"You. Track my workout." Char picked up the tiny hyena, putting him just outside the weight yard, "I wish to know how fast I grow. I plateaued once, and I refuse to do so again. Ensure my gains on every rep however you must." Char lay back, preparing to bench press the obscene weight. He could not recall ever working out his royal body before, this being his 'natural' size. He wished to see what he would be like if he was strong, and his pet would put him there.

Pat yelped as he was manhandle, like he barely weighed anything at all. As he's set down, flustered, he whips out a lil notebook and pencil, ready to take notes. "Say, uh, Sire, remind me just how big you are again?" He coughs, tail thrashing behind him. "You know, for science." And definitely not because he just likes hearing him say it. Meanwhile, sturdy, expensive-looking cranes were ready to add more weights as he pumped. Some of the weights waiting in the wings are... gargantuan.

"Ugh, fine." Char rolled his eyes as he began to pump. "My biceps are probably the easiest to measure. I'm 2... er, 30 inches when I relax." It was thirty right? Yeah, had to be. 20 was just so SMALL. "But when I start to flex, I can easily get up to fifty. That's as far as even the royal accoutrements are rated for, though," Char pointed to the jewels and bangles of gold on highly, HIGHLY elastic strings that were the only things he wore, jangly packets of wealth constantly pressed against his muscles. "So I don't usually get to REALLY flex, I just know that I don't get to do it indoors."

Pat nodded, making his little notes in his little book, but spending most of his time looking at you. "35-inch biceps, got it," he says, and so it was. His changes were getting less disorientating, why, this time Char could almost feel that bicep swell as he said it. Almost. Might be the working out. "And 8ft tall... just shy of 1000 lbs..." As Char lifted the weight, sweat began to pour from his body - something the royal form usually only did during the most passionate fuck sessions. His muscles strained, lifting impossible amounts of weight with only some effort. And more weight was constantly added, as he lifted, so that growing form was always being challeneged, pushed into being better, bigger than before. "There we go, looks like 1003, 1011..."

"What? Only a few pounds at a time? Unacceptable!" Char demanded, pumping faster, more furiously, "Only a thousand pounds for my body... preposterous. I unload more weight than that in raw cum at night! Not even the actual fuck sessions, just draining." Char focused his thoughts on his body, calling everything he had. "Explain this discrepancy! Is it only because every pound of muscle I have can lift nearly a thousand pounds on its own?"

Pat huffs and blushes, while he fumbed with his notes. "I uh... pounds, did I say pounds? I meant kilograms, clearly. 1500kg, that's... 3300 lbs!" Char’s already massive body swelled outward, muscles fighting for space as he grew, those golden adornments getting dangerously close to busting off of him. The weights, likewise, swelled in size, bigger than cars, bigger than small buildings, 3 million pounds of something-like-steel, and he lifted it with... not no effort, but shockingly little effort for the task he was undertaking. "...Of course, 3500lbs is just muscle. If you include the royal junk, it's nearly double that..."

"Speaking OF the royal package, what are we going to do about it?" Char asked, booming bass voice shouting out even over the clank of metal... and the near-deafening gurgle of the balls in question. "I lost track of my number of offspring some time ago, how many am I up to? Obviously more is better there, but so many of my partners have told me that after our time together they simply can't feel pleasure from anything else. Should I simply not TRY with my partners? I simply don't have enough cock to fuck EVERYBODY who claims to need it." Char's tone was businesslike as he grew, his version of balancing the kingdom's budget, after all, it was the most important resource he had to provide.

And, well, Pat was in the major of improving his kingdom’s resources now, wasn’t he? It wouldn’t be a very good job if he didn’t take care of this. “I believe you can, sire,” he gulped, the drool he couldn’t help but produce over the thought of the godly stallion almost choking him, “you can do anything.”

The world shifted.