Blubbery Muffins

Story by Timid_Tanuki on SoFurry

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When James helps himself to a treat at work after missing breakfast, he discovers that what's on the label may be more literal than expected.

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Dedicated to my loving fiance, Ferin, this tale of transformation was born out of a pun. For whatever reason my brain decided it would make a cute erotic transformation story. This is my first written work in quite a long time (and my first work ever published on SoFurry). Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!


James lowered his wire-framed glasses and rubbed his eyes as he walked into the break room, suppressing a yawn. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night thanks to a raid in Cosmos of Combat. On top of that, he'd slapped the snooze button on his alarm a few too many times and had to dash out the door without eating his usual bowl of cereal. He'd spent a miserable hour proofreading some technical document, noisy grumbles issuing from his stomach regularly, until his break time, when he'd rushed to the employee lounge.

Now as he stared forlornly at his reflection in the glass of the vending machine, the famished man realized he had no change. He'd dug frantically through the pockets of his gray slacks for a few coins, shook his wallet upside down, and even checked the pocket of his blue button-up shirt, but found not a penny. He desperately punched a few of the buttons on the machine and gave it a tentative shove, but nothing shook loose. In defeat, the redhead shuffled to the coffee pot and grabbed a Styrofoam cup, dumping in a healthy dose of sugar and powdered creamer before pouring in some of the hot, bitter brew. He stirred the drink with a plastic straw before taking a slurp, cursing under his breath as the scalding coffee seared his tongue, and then turned to leave, belly still growling with hunger.

As he turned though, something caught his eye: Sitting by the microwave, apparently overlooked by his tired eyes when he entered, James spotted a basket of baked goods with a sign on it that said FREE - TAKE ONE. Maybe I'll have some decent luck today after all, he thought as he looked over the treats. Each snack was wrapped in clear cellophane with the name on its label; he saw iced Bear Claws, gooey Cinnabuns, sticky Monkey Bread, and crispy Elephant Ears, but instead settled on a muffin--or more specifically, a "Blubbery Muffin" as the label called it--with the rationalization that the fruit made it healthier.

A scent of surprisingly fresh blueberries wafted to James's nostrils as he tore open the package. Taking a healthy bite of the muffin, he discovered it to be quite tasty and fresh despite the fact that it was a pre-packaged snack. The cake was moist and crumbly and packed with ripe, juicy berries. It odd, slightly salty taste to it, which the lanky ginger chalked up to the current fad of putting sea salt in everything , but nonetheless it was delicious! His stomach growled ravenously as he swallowed the mouthful of fruity goodness; in four huge chomps, he had gobbled the whole thing up, surprising himself with his hunger. He licked the crumbs from his fingers, washed the pastry down with a swig of coffee, and headed back to his desk. He was feeling better about his day already!

As he typed away at his keyboard a few minutes later, James's tummy gurgled quite loudly, and before he could stop it, a noisy belch had erupted from his mouth. He blushed and sheepishly muttered, "Excuse me!" glancing around embarrassedly to see if any of his co-workers had noticed, but if they had, no one said anything. He glared at his gut, which continued to burble vociferously. Obviously, something in the muffin had disagreed with his digestive tract. He slapped a palm over his mouth to muffle another burp and then tried to get back to work, reclining in his chair to try to relieve the ache in his belly.

He hadn't even returned to where he'd left off reviewing the document before a strange creaking interrupted him. He looked around his cubicle in confusion, unable to locate the source; he stood and peeked over the low wall of his cube, and still saw nothing to account for the sound. Then he heard it again, a sort of rubbery stretching noise, followed immediately by a loud _plink_as something struck his monitor. He fished behind his keyboard and found . . . a button? Looking down, his mouth fell open in surprise; his normally flat belly was bulging outward, apparently far enough to snap the button loose--and it was still inflating! He stared in shock as his bloating tummy strained at the fabric of his blue dress shirt; the cloth creaked under the pressure and another button, popped off and went shooting across his cubicle.

The cracking of the third dislodged button against his stapler shook James from his daze; he jumped up and ran for the bathroom, hands grasping at the overtaxed cloth of his shirt desperately, trying to hold it closed over his hairy, swelling stomach. Several co-workers glanced at him in surprise as he dashed by, but he paid them no mind. He shoved open the door to the office's suite, skidded around the corner, and slammed into the restroom. A few moments later he locked himself in a stall, panting as he worriedly unhooked the surviving buttons on his shirt.

He whimpered pitifully as he beheld the state of his abdomen: He looked like he'd swallowed a watermelon! His gut was at least three times its usual size, the pale, ginger-haired skin taut across a keg-sized tummy. He hefted the distended mass of his belly; it was solid, heavy with fat and muscle. His hopes that this was just some bizarre attack of indigestion and gas shrunk as he felt the weight of the situation (literally).

He released his weighty stomach and dropped his arms to his sides, baffled at the situation . . . and then let out a sharp gasp of pleasure. Somehow, the weight of his jiggling gut as it fell had sent a burst of erotic sensation straight to his groin. Despite his inexplicable condition, his member grew hard in his pants, and he couldn't help but rub at the growing bulge. With his other hand, he tentatively pushed on the side of his husky stomach and let it swing, his knees nearly buckling from the flare of sensual fire blasted straight to his tumescing erection.

Suddenly, that unusual creaking sound again filled the toilet stall. He looked at his ample belly, but for the moment didn't notice any changes. Thinking he would examine his reflection in the bathroom mirror but wanting to ensure he was alone in the bathroom, James sheepishly muttered, "Um - is someone else in hereeeek!" His words trailed off into a squeaky yelp as a pressure grew against his legs; it felt like his slacks had abruptly shrunk three sizes. James tried to peer past the broad curve of his tummy but it was so expansive that he couldn't see anything.

With a mixture of dread and curiosity, he threw open the door of the stall to check himself out in the bathroom mirror, but before he could fully take in his appearance, he heard cloth tearing. He stared at his reflection as his the legs of his pants ripped apart, bursting at the seams to reveal that his thighs and calves were now ballooning also. Even his hips were broadening; as they grew, the button on his slacks snapped loose and the zipper broke, causing the shredded remains of his trousers to puddle around his ankles.

Normally the shy redhead would have rushed back into the stall in embarrassment at his indecent state, but he found his new appearance far too enthralling. Just a few minutes prior, James had been a scrawny tech geek with no real physique of which to speak. Now from the waist up he resembled a bodybuilder in the "bulk up" phase of his training, with expansive, jutting pecs and burly arms framing a brawny, jiggling stomach; below his broadening waist were thighs and calves that were bulking up rapidly with spongy fat and solid muscle.

His gray boxer-briefs, already stretched taut by his turgid cock, simply burst into ribbons, exposing his throbbing length to the cool air. James gaped at his reflection in the mirror, his mind incapable of processing this transformation. Heedless of his nudity, he stumbled toward the sink, thick thighs rubbing together and pendulous gut wobbling with each step. He groped at his new body, exploring the wide pecs, caressing his bulbous belly, and kneading his tree-trunk thighs. He pressed a palm against his abdomen, which sank into several inches of fat before it encountering the unyielding muscle underneath. Even though his fondling didn't trigger that massive burst of pleasure it had previously, the simple thought of having such a magnificent body caused James's dick to twitch with desire. He massaged his massive tummy and grasped his erection in the other hand, fondling it with lust. In the back of his mind, he thought, Why is this arousing? This should be terrifying; I'm turning into some kind of muscle monster! but lust overrode his rational mind and drove him to just jerk off more feverishly.

As James stroked his pulsing member, he noticed that his arms were beginning to bulge as well, fat and muscle blossoming along each limb; in moments, his upper arms ripped the sleeves and shoulders of his dress shirt. He shrugged off the tattered garment and continued to pound his cock ever faster--with a fist that was rapidly growing as well, increasing in width and thickness. A throbbing in his feet warned him of changes happening there as well; he gawked as his black sneakers bubbled and swelled, shoes and socks splitting apart as his feet increased in size to match his expanding frame.

The redhead felt his orgasm building, his balls tightening, and he pounded his pole ferociously, desperate for release. He flexed his unoccupied arm, watching in the mirror as the muscle knotted and bulged beneath the thick layer of blubber; a lusty, growling moan burst from his lips at the sight of his veiny bicep swelling with such power. A ceaseless flow of precum drooled from the head of his dick, coating his rod in slick fluid that dripped from his balls to join the warm puddle swirling about his feet. Yet despite the slippery friction of his hand pumping his shaft, the pleasure never crested into orgasm. James whimpered in frustration and started to prod at his stomach again roughly, hoping to prompt more of the intense, erotic sensations. He jiggled the fleshy sphere, poked it, smacked it hard enough so that it continued wobbling for a good ten seconds, but to no avail. He was rubbing his tummy in slow circles when he finally did feel something--not pleasure, but something else. His fist slowed on his member as studied himself closely in the mirror.

From his navel outward, his pasty white muscle gut was darkening with rich, chocolate brown hair. The silky fur soon carpeted his entire stomach and then encroached up his chest, dusting his protruding pecs in cocoa-colored fuzz before sprouting across his freckled shoulders and collarbone. It washed up James's neck and over his jaws, encircling his lips, which in seeming response darkened to a russet hue. His freckled cheeks and forehead vanished behind the fuzzy coat; the growth stopped at his hairline, leaving a mop of contrasting ginger color atop his head.

His upper torso fully furred, the growth proceeded down his arms and across his biceps and brachs; it budded on his forearms, his wrists, and the backs of his hands and fingers--even bloomed across his palms. Then the transfiguration continued past his waist. The same downy fuzz swiftly covered his upper thighs and continued unceasingly down, blanketing his thickset legs, mounded calves, and ample feet in deep walnut fur. The glossy pelt flowed across his groin, coating his balls in warm velvet while his throbbing, precum-smeared dick deepened to dark shade of henna.

As the last bits of his new coat grew in, a fresh wave of burning lust surged through James's body, and his hand darted back to his crotch to grasp his rust-colored member. A gasp of need burst from his lips as he started to beat off once again, and his knees nearly buckled at the extraordinary feelings; though the tips of his fingers and portions of his palm remained bare, sleek, luxurious fur surrounded those naked pads, and it titillated his tumescent cock with each stroke. The only inconvenience was finding a good jacking rhythm, which was somewhat difficult since his fists now dwarfed his shaft. He realized soon enough however that whatever was transforming him was quickly remedying the problem, as with each pump of his dribbling pole it began to lengthen and fatten. The pulsing rod gained inch after inch, stretching until it was at least a foot from base to head, and it swelled in girth until it forced his grip open, his lengthy new fingers barely able to encircle it. Not to be outdone, his furry sac began to flesh out as well; his grape-sized testicles inflated, first to the size of lemons, then to the circumference of ripe grapefruits. As his nuts finished their growth spurt, a gush of fluid shot from the end of his cock, splattering the counter and mirror. At first, James thought he had finally climaxed, but the ache in his engorged balls said otherwise; the torrent of fluid pouring from his member was only pre from his bloated sac.

It seemed that James_still_couldn't get off, no matter how ardently he fucked into the furry warmth of his palm. His fists glistened with fluid, fingers sticky with his juices--or was it just that? He peered at his idle hand and watched as a membrane of translucent sorrel-hued skin developed between his fingers, webbing them together. A similar alteration occurred between his toes, the digits elongating by several inches as a flap of skin emerged between each one. He could feel the warm pool of pre lapping at the sensitive webs of his flippers, coating them in slippery stickiness; the lewd sensation only aroused him further.

Another salacious groan escaped his lips as he felt that tingling tension rising once more--this time just above his meaty asscheeks. He twisted his bulky form to look past his bubbled butt and observed a tube of flesh pushing forth from the base of his spine; a thick tail formed, drooping down to his knees. With each stroke of his dick, his new rudder twitched and slapped against his furry thighs.

While the pressure faded from James's rear, it immediately blossomed in his skull, a mix of pleasurable-painful tenseness gathering in his jaw and nose. His mandibles cracked loudly as they stretched outward to form a muzzle; his nose flattened and widened, the nostrils distorting into oblong slits, as slender auburn whiskers sprouted from his cheeks. He felt a stinging in his eyes and blinked rapidly, opening them to find that they were no longer brown, but a glossy, midnight black. His altered eyes, he studied his reflection; the body of the former redheaded, skinny technical geek had been replaced by that of a well-endowed, chocolate-colored sea lion with the broad, muscled physique of a power lifter with a shock of ginger hair atop his head.

His self-examination was interrupted as he felt (and saw) his hefty sac start to tremble and pull up against his body. The fat mahogany head of his cock flared to the size of a saucer, the veins on the shaft pulsating. The libidinous feelings that had built within him seemed to condense and multiply as his metamorphosis completed. He dropped to his knees, splashing into the lake of precum, and let out a growling roar as a thick spray of cum erupted from his shaft, a gallon of creamy jizm gushing into the air. The deluge glazed the mirror in white and rained down to douse his muscular body in spunk. Another torrent exploded up through his convulsing pole and caught him square in the face, drenching his muzzle and filling his panting mouth. The musky, wild flavor of his seed filled his mouth and he swallowed it eagerly, extending his broad, black tongue to lick it from his muzzle and to lap at the third jet of semen that fountained forth.

James convulsed in the throes of climax, splattering his own fluids everywhere, until a full dozen geysers of cream had streamed from his cock, leaving him drained of both spooge and energy. He slumped back against the jizz-coated wall and surveyed the damage: A veritable tsunami of sticky semen had coated nearly every surface in the bathroom, and his chocolate-colored pelt was matted white with the stuff. He licked his muzzle and whiskers clean of the gooey fluid as he fondled his softening firehose of a cock. He closed his black eyes, exhausted. Somewhere in the near future would be worries--of what had happened to him, what his co-workers would do when they found him, and how he would live in a human world as a chubby, muscular sea lion. For now though he drifted off into a post-orgasmic sleep, thinking drowsily to himself, Well, at least I got finally got breakfast.