Contraindications Part 12

Story by Tube on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , ,

#12 of Contraindications


The car creaked in relief as Matt stepped out of it, rising up and bouncing a little. It looked like the struts were going. He looked back over his vehicle and realized that it probably wasn't worth it to replace them. He didn't fit in it anymore. He'd probably have to sell it. He felt a twinge of sadness at the thought. The old car had been with him through college, road trips, vacations with Stetson. But now he'd outgrown it. Well, like he'd told Will, his life was going to be different now. This was just one more way. He grabbed his gym bag from the car and locked it.

Matt had always hated the name of Demigods Gym. It sounded cocky, or ostentatious, maybe. The mascot wasn't great, either: a glowing logo of an overly rounded, stylized wolf doing a clean and jerk with a loaded bar. Something about the proportions made it look really stupid. But the gym itself was a good one: light on the machines and treadmills, and heavy on the free weights. Serious lifters lifted there. It'd taken Matt a few years before he'd gotten the nerve to cancel his membership at Family Fitness and get a membership at Demigods. Many of the guys who lifted there were huge and intimidating, and Matt was, well, just not at all. They chatted casually in the locker room about prison time and steroid use, and had a generally gruff demeanor that had always made Matt's ears flatten. Still, after he'd been there a while, he'd found that nobody really gave you shit as long as you were lifting, no matter what condition you were in. Some of them had even helped him out with his lifting form. But all the same, every time he'd come to the gym, he'd always felt just a little shy and nervous.

This time, he did not feel shy and nervous. He couldn't help pushing his chest out a little, letting his shoulders sway with an easy swagger as he walked up to the door. He had to reach down for the handle, and when he stepped through, he felt the tips of his ears brush against the top of the doorframe. If anything unexpected happened while he was inside, he'd have to be careful on his way out.

He scanned his card at the entrance, and suppressed a grin as the stocky cougar behind the counter did a double take, glancing briefly up at him, looking away, and then immediately back. "Heya," he paused as his eyes glanced down at the screen, "Matt. Good to see you again. How's it going today?" He flashed his white fangs in an ingratiating smile.

"Just fine," Matt said. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The staff had never greeted him before. They must think he was a pro, someone who would bring the gym a little extra cred. He checked the cougar's name tag, but it just had a T, O, exclamation point, and a triangle. He tugged with his thumb claws at the chest of the sleeveless tee currently painted onto his upper body. "So these clothes aren't really doing it for me. You have any gear in my size?"

"Shrunk in the wash, huh? I feel you. I keep runnin' those things through the dryer by mistake, you know, and they come out lookin' like they're for babies or something."

"Something like that. You have anything?"

"Hey, yeah, we can totally help you out. Lemme check the computers - it'll just take a minute." The cougar looked down at his computer and began typing. It seemed to be taking an unnecessarily long time, whatever he was looking up. They must be using really old systems. Matt leaned onto the counter with both elbows and looked into the gym. It wasn't too full. Nobody was really staring in his direction, and he sighed in unexpected gratitude. It felt nice, just for a little, not to feel out of place.

"Sorry, bra, just a minute more," the cougar said, apparently mistaking Matt's sigh for impatience. "Oh. Yeah, we still have a few things from our Olympiad line in stock." He pointed to the wall just beyond the drinks machines, on which were hanging a selection of black exercise gear with DEMIGODS written on it in an obnoxiously large, bright red font.

"Are you serious?" Matt said.

"Yeah, dude, right over there. You can see it from here. Anything in that line should fit you okay."

"Then why did you have to..." Matt shook his head. "Never mind. Thanks."

"No prob, bra. Just bring over whatever you pick out."

"Right." Because until you said that, I was just going to run off with it, he thought. This cat was about as sharp as a wet paper towel. He grabbed a couple pairs of exercise shorts from off the rack, a tank and tee that looked like they might still be loose on him, and, thinking ahead, he grabbed a few jugs of protein, as well as a few drinks from the fridge. It was all ridiculously overpriced, and he couldn't stop thinking about the job he didn't have anymore. But he was pretty skilled; he shouldn't have any trouble getting another. And he had a nice buffer saved up. He dumped all the items on the counter.

"That's a lot of gear, huh?" the cougar said. He rummaged through the clothing, trying to find the tags, scanning the items one by one.

"Yeah, I guess," Matt said.

"Whoa." The cougar stared at his screen. "You don't have a pro discount with us?"

"No, I... what's that, like a rewards program?"

"Yeah," the cougar nodded. He stared at Matt. "Exactly." He kept looking, and didn't say anything.

"Well... why don't you tell me about it?"

"Oh, you know. It's like a discount. For pros. You just bring in your certificate from any local or national competition - first or second place - and you get free membership PLUS a twenty percent discount on gear."

Matt rubbed at his head, the motion of his shoulders yanking his shirt up above his abs, exposing the top of his sheath. His ears heated as he tugged it down again. "I don't... I don't really compete in anything."

The cougar blinked. His brow furrowed, ears going back. Then he laughed hesitantly but loudly. "Come on, bra. Course you compete. You ain't gonna juice up like that for nothin', right?"

Matt sighed. "Can you just ring me up please?"

"Hey, sure thing man. That'll be $543.09."

He felt his jaw go slack. He thought again of his bank account, with only one more paycheck to be deposited before the money stopped rolling in. "Are you serious? Five hundred-I can't afford that!"

TO!? shrugged. "Hey, this is quality gear. Guaranteed not to rip or tear. And, you know, not many companies make stuff in your size. So... you should totally compete! Free membership plus sixty percent off couldn't hurt, right? Come on, you could win a local competition easy." His gaze flickered down Matt's frame again.

Matt could see his nostrils flare, and groaned inwardly. Not this guy. Never. Still, not everything he said was dumb. The idea of competing was embarrassing. He couldn't really imagine himself doing it. But on the other hand, a cash prize and a free gym membership were nothing to sniff at. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He could just get up there, flex a few times, and see what happened. He sighed, and looked down at the clothes and protein. "I guess I'll just take the one pair of clothes," he said. "And two jugs of protein."

"You got it, bra. You want me to set the rest of this stuff aside for you?"

"Sure."

The cougar stuffed the clothes, along with the protein, and even the drinks under the counter.

"You don't have to..." Matt began, and then decided it wasn't worth it. "Never mind."

"One eighty five even," the cougar announced.

Still painful. Matt surrendered his credit card, signed, and made for the locker rooms on the other side of the gym, and the cougar called after him, "Hey, if you can bring in your cert in the next thirty days, you can still get the discount on the stuff you bought."

Sure, Matt thought. Why not? Worth a try. The worst that can happen is complete humiliation, right? He wondered what would happen if he tried to squeeze his new sheath into a pair of posing briefs and shuddered. Probably impossible.

He had to pass through the weight room to get to the locker rooms, and once again he was conscious of his new height. Many of the machines and benches looked like ridiculously small now. He doubted he could use some of them. There weren't too many people here, either. A huge bear, definitely pro, working the cables. Horse doing squats. Couple of rabbits swapping off on the pullup bars. And... he cringed. He recognized the two wolves working at the bench press. They were the two who had come into the locker room the other day, after he'd gotten a blow job from that husky, Devon. A twinge of guilt went through him as he remembered leaving him in the locker room to those two. They hadn't seemed friendly. Queerboy, they'd called the husky.

They were, he was unsurprised to see, really obnoxious lifters. They had to be pro bodybuilders, definitely juicing, but they were really interested in letting everyone know how hard they were working. Granted, the one was pushing up 385 on the bench, which was phenomenal, but still. He was roaring with each push like he was attacking someone with a broadsword, and at the end of his set he slammed the bar down onto the rack and leapt to his feet with a whoop and a loud "Yeah!" Then his buddy got down on the bench and growled at the bar the whole time while his spotter shouted, "You're the man! You're the fuckin' man."

Matt rolled his eyes and hoped he'd be able to ignore them while lifting. Lifters like that tended to distract and bother everyone else, but when they were as big as these two wolves were - neither was as tall as he, but they were both thicker, one with a stocky, compact build, and the other as massive as anyone he'd ever seen - the gym tended to turn a blind eye.

"Hey!" the larger wolf shouted, staring right at him. "What're you lookin' at, homo?"

"Nothing," Matt mumbled, feeling his ears go down, his tail curling between his legs. He never knew how to handle confrontation like this. He could feel his face burning under his fur.

The smaller wolf sat up on his bench. "This gym's getting full of faggots," he said. "They ought to ban 'em."

"Or shoot 'em," the larger one said.

Matt couldn't help himself: he looked over his shoulder at that. Both wolves had lolling grins. That was pretty close to an outright threat. If there were anyone else up at the counter, he'd have thought about reporting it, but he didn't have a whole lot of confidence in TO Alarmed Triangle.

"Walk away, homo," the small one said. "Just walk away." He sniffed the air, and a strange look crossed his face. He said something in a low voice, and the larger one sniffed too, and then nodded.

Matt made a beeline for the locker rooms. He could feel the adrenaline surge, hot in his veins. Why would they call him a homo? He wasn't mincing or anything. He didn't... he caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The clothes Stetson had bought him earlier were skin-tight, gripping every curve, sinking deep into the cleft of his ass, outlining every muscle. It looked hot, but... not exactly straight. Still. It shouldn't matter. They shouldn't be allowed to threaten him like that. This was not a good situation; it sounded like they were looking for a fight. He should just change and go. That would be best. The unfairness of it all ate at him. Why should two assholes be allowed to just push everyone around? Why should they get away with it? No. Best not to think about it. Life was unfair sometimes. People were jerks. That's just the way things were. You could worked up about it, or you could let it go, move on.

He sighed, and peeled away his shirt, enjoying the sudden coolness as his fur was allowed to relax and fluff out a bit. He caught his reflection in the mirror again and turned away. It was embarrassing that the sight of his new body excited him. Was he narcissistic now? Was that wrong? He pushed the thought from his mind.

"Matt?" a voice said hesitantly. "It's you, isn't it?"

He looked around and saw a short husky standing near the lockers, towel around his waist, his lean chest bare. No. The husky wasn't short. He was average height. Matt frowned. "Devon?"

The husky's ears flicked nervously, his curled tail giving a slow wag above the top of the towel. "I knew it was you. It's impossible, but it's definitely you."

Matt rubbed at the back of his neck, and Devon's jaw went slack, his eyes shifting focus. "How did you know it was me?" he asked. "No one else seems to."

The husky took a few nervous steps closer. "I'd know your smell anywhere," he breathed. "The rest of you looks different, but that hasn't changed. Well. It's stronger. A lot stronger. But it's unmistakably you." He sniffed at the air, and Matt winced. Don't do that. "How are you so much bigger now?" he asked, stepping closer again. "I mean, what are you? Are you like, some kind of demon or something?"

Matt couldn't quite suppress a laugh of disbelief. "What? No! I just, I took some supplements that seem to be having a weird effect on me, is all. I don't really know what happened."

Nodding, Devon looked down at his paws. "I had to tell my girlfriend what happened. That I... that I blew a guy in the gym showers. We're on a break now."

"I'm sorry-" Matt began, but Devon interrupted him.

"Am I gay now?" he asked, his voice plaintive, almost frightened. "Is that what you did to me? Did you make me gay? Am I gonna have to... have to get a... boyfriend?" He actually shuddered at the word. He looked back up at Matt, desperation written across his face.

Shit. Somehow he had wrecked this guy's life without even realizing it. He'd told him, he'd said to him there in the showers, "I'm not gay," and Matt had let him do what he did anyway. And now the poor guy was falling apart. Was it wrong if you made someone want it? He didn't even know how to answer that question.

"Look," he said, "you're not... that is, I don't think you're gay. This has been happening with me. It has something to do with my scent. It's got extra strong pheromones in it or something. When guys smell it, they want me, bad. That's what happened with you. It's not what you want, you know? It's just... it's just chemistry."

Devon frowned for a moment, as if sorting his thoughts out. "Wait, your scent makes guys want sex with you? Does that mean you have... female pheromones?"

"What?" Matt almost shouted. "No, what? No!" Gods, he thought. I sure fucking hope not. "No, I mean, it doesn't matter what species you are or anything. It just works. Maybe it works on girls too. I'm not sure. I'm not really interested that way, you know?" Although, he thought, maybe it'd be worth a try. He discarded that thought for now. He was getting plenty of sex as it was. Too much, even.

"So the only reason that I did that is... because you had some kind of weird pheromone thing? I could tell my girlfriend that? I mean, I don't think she'd believe me, not at first, but... but I've been thinking about you ever sense." His gaze turned back toward Matt's. It was fixed, intense, almost hungry. "It wasn't enough. I wanted you again." He breathed in deeply, his well-built chest expanding. "I still want you."

With that, he tugged at the fold at the front of his towel and it dropped away. He was naked in front of Matt, his red cock already rising with urgency. Matt stepped back in shock as Devon came forward, paws tugging at his stretched shorts, pulling them out and down around his oversized sheath. Unbidden, his own shaft started to rise upward, a pulsing pink pole as big around as his wrist. Devon reached for it, jaws opening, and Matt pushed him back. "No," he said. "You don't want this. Not really."

The husky's ears went back, his eyes large and soulful and pleading. "Yes I do," he breathed. "I've been wanting it since you left me in the showers the other day."

Oh yeah, he thought. When those asshole wolves came in. "Those wolves, did they... you know, did they give you trouble?"

Devon shook his head, keeping his eyes fixed hungrily on Matt's cock, which hung forward out of his shorts like a salami. "I think they were gonna, but then they started to get all hard, and I think it freaked 'em out. They decided to take cold showers instead." He hesitated, one ear tilted to the side and then turned around, leaning forward onto a bench, his rump round, tilted up, the curved tail wagging hopefully above it. "You can fuck me if you want. I've never had anyone take me before."

Matt stared at the soft-furred rump, perfect round buttocks arched upward for him, eager. His cock throbbed, rising higher and higher, aching with instant and intense desire. He paused. "I'm too big for you," he said. "It would hurt."

The husky was panting with desire now, digging his fingers into the bench in anticipation. "Only at first," he said. "I can relax, I promise." He looked back over his shoulder, his eyes wide and earnest, full of yearning. "Please, Sir," he said. "Please fuck me. I need it."

Gods! Matt tensed with arousal, his cock flexing and spilling a trail of precum across the floor. Barely thinking, he pushed his shorts down, feeling the cuffs roll up into rings as they stretched around his huge thighs, his balls grateful for the sudden relief of pressure as they bounced against his legs in the open air.

Devon breathed in again and groaned, his red cock jutting down toward the bench below his lean belly. His tail began wagging. "Fuck me, Sir. Fuck me hard."

It was going to feel so good. Matt crouched down, nudging his tip under that wagging tail, the soft fur teasing the sensitive flesh. Devon keened in anticipation, pushing back. Yeah. Matt would just fuck him this one last time, and then he'd have what he wanted, and go back to his girlfriend, and... no.

Devon nudged again, his ring twitching against Matt's tip, already slick with precum.

Matt pulled back. "I'm sorry," he said. "I can't do this."

Devon's ears drooped. He turned, leaning on the bench, looking back. "What?" he asked, confusion in his voice.

"Listen to me," Matt said. "You're not gay. You understand? It's just... it's the pheromones. They're sticking with you a little, making you think you want things you don't." He sat down on the bench next to Devon, his cock slapping up against the bottom of his chest as he did so. Devon reached for it and he swatted at the husky's paw. "You don't want this."

"Yes," the husky said, nodding urgently, "I do want it! I want it so much."

"No," Matt replied. "You want your girlfriend. You want your happy life you had. Go and explain things to her. Give her my phone number if you have to - I'll write it down for you. Get her back. You give it a week or so, and you're going to be wondering what the heck you were doing with me, I guarantee it."

Devon looked up at his face, and then down at his aching cock. He could feel it drooling hot pre all the way down to his balls. "You... you think so?" His eyes were suddenly uncertain.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. Tell you what: give it a couple weeks. If you're not over it by then, and you can't work things out, then come find me here and we can have some fun, okay? But I know you're gonna feel weird about it after a while. And I don't want to wreck your life, Devon."

The husky wasn't wagging anymore. "Okay," he said, his voice slow. "Okay, I'll give it a couple of weeks." He stood up, his shaft still jutting up eagerly. "I guess I'll go get my clothes on," he said. He leaned over and picked up his towel, his tail giving another wag, and it was all Matt could do not to grab that perfect rump and push into it right there. Instead, he turned away, squeezing his eyes closed and counting to ten. When he turned back, Devon was heading for the lockers. He looked back over his shoulder at Matt. "Thank you." Then he disappeared.

Immediately, Matt headed for the showers and turned one on at cold blast. The frigid water streamed down onto his fur and across his aching, needful flesh. He leaned against the wall with one arm, groaning as the cold sensation fought his aching, urgent libido. After a moment or two, his erection finally began to go down. Only then did he remember he didn't have a towel to dry off. Oh well. Thank god he was an otter; most of the water would just bead off his fur.

He turned off the shower and shook off against a wall, hindquarters and tail vibrating. His sac slapped uncomfortably from thigh to thigh as he did so, his lemon-sized orbs jostling in their overcrowded space. He was mostly dry, at least. He went back to his bag, dressed in the new clothes, which actually fit him surprisingly well, and headed out of the locker room. He felt oddly light and relaxed. He'd done the right thing, he was sure of it.

When he exited into the weight room, he looked instinctively toward the bench where the two wolves had been working out, but they weren't there. His shoulders went forward in relief; he had been afraid they would hassle him coming out. But no, they weren't by the bench anymore, and in fact, they didn't appear to be anywhere in the gym. In fact, there seemed to be no one here. Everyone had gone. It was only early afternoon on a weekday, but still. Had they closed? He looked around. No, the cougar was still up there at the counter, and plus, when they were about to close, they turned off some of the lights. The gym was still lit, the music still playing - some metal track or other that was supposed to get your pulse pounding. Must just be a lull.

This was a welcome turn. At least now he could try to get a sense for what his lifts were without worrying about getting into a messy situation with someone. He took another look around and then headed for the Smith machine, a large rack with an attached bar and regular pegs up and down the columns to either side, good for doing presses, squats, and other lifts when you didn't have a spotter. If you rotated the bar while lifting, a couple of hooks would turn over and catch the pegs, securing the bar in place so that if you ran out of strength or energy, you wouldn't drop the bar on yourself. He figured it would be a good way to see what his maximum lifts were without getting into trouble.

He dragged a flat bench under the bar, and then considered a moment. He'd been lifting ninety pounds with the press before, but he knew he was way stronger than that. One thirty five should be no problem. He put a 45-lb plate on either side of the 45-lb bar and sat on the bench. It felt small beneath him, his knees jutting upward. Leaning back, he braced both of his webbed paws on the bar and gave it a push upward. It shot upward and bounced at the top. He actually had to catch it. It felt like it weighed nothing at all. He couldn't believe it. He rotated the bar to hook it in place, stood up, and added another pair of 45s. This would make the total weight 225 lbs, more than twice what he'd lifted two days ago. He sat down on the bench and gave the bar another push, unhooking it. At least he could feel the weight this time, though it felt pretty light. He lowered the bar until it touched his pecs and then raised it again, feeling them bunch with strength and power, pressing against each other, pressing against his biceps. It felt great, but the weight was still no problem. He got up and added a third pair of 45s, bringing the total weight to 315. This was a standard benchmark weight for pro lifters; if he could lift that, he was legit.

Again he lay back on the bench, feeling his lats bulge out to either side of it, and gripped the bar. He lowered it, feeling the stretch in his chest, and pushed upward, pecs and triceps bulging out hard. Unbelievable. It was easy. He did couple more repetitions, feeling the stretch and strain, but not tiring at all.

Then the wolves walked up, standing over him. Matt froze mid-lift. "Look at this, Trav," said the bulkier one. "The homo thinks he can lift."

"Three fifteen ain't that bad. It's decent. Maybe he's not a homo after all, Ray."

Matt hooked the bar into place, his heart beating faster. "You guys want something?"

The big one, Ray, nodded at him. "Sorry for givin' you a hard time earlier, man," he said. "We didn't know you were serious. You had on those faggy clothes and everything."

Relief flooded through him. "Oh, yeah, well, they shrank. You know. I didn't realize until it was too late. That's why I bought new ones." The answer felt cheap, cowardly. He was a fag. He shouldn't be frightened into submission by these guys. But no. There was a time to stand up for yourself, and that time was not when two guys wanted to beat you for the wrong answer. That was just stupid. Better to get out of this safe and sound.

The wolf jerked his head toward the bar. "Three fifteen, that's what you do for reps? Looks like you can handle it okay." His voice was warmer and more friendly now.

Proud, Matt answered, "Naw, this is just a warmup weight. I haven't found my max in a while. You guys want to throw another plate on each side?"

The smaller wolf's brows raised. "Four oh five? You sure?"

"Yeah," Matt said, feeling confident. Three fifteen had been easy. "Should be no problem." He couldn't believe he was about to do this. 405 lbs? That was crazy. It was almost ten times what he'd been lifting a week ago. But he was not the little otter he'd been a week ago. He was a beast. He was still suspicious of these guys being so friendly to him all of a sudden, but he figured it was better not to antagonize them. They put another plate on each side - that was eight big plates, total - and he braced his paws. He pushed upward, the textured metal of the bar digging into his palms. His chest mounded up thick, straining, and bumped at his chin, his triceps bulging out of the back of his arms hard. The strain and ache felt good. He lowered the bar down to his chest and pushed it up again. His chest and arms pulsed with the effort, filling out with blood, muscle growing tight as he started to feel the pump. He lowered and raised again, and again, banging out a set of five. Gods damn. Four hundred and five pounds. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't difficult either. He hooked the bar again.

Trav whistled with his tongue. "Okay," he said. "We were totally wrong about you. You are fuckin' pro, man."

Feeling excited, almost amped, Matt urged them, "Put two more on."

Ray's tongue lolled in a grin. "You got it, boss." The plates scraped as they slid onto either side of the bar. Matt braced his paws and pushed upward. It moved. The bar was visibly bowing now, the heavy weight on either side bending the ends downward. His muscles strained, aching with the weight of a quarter ton of iron, but he lowered down to his chest and raised again, breathing out heavily with the upward push. He was doing it. The sense of raw power sent an erotic thrill through him. He wasn't just strong, he was fucking strong. Not world record strong, not by half, but still. He lowered for a second rep, and then a third. His muscles burned with the effort, but it felt good. He felt his sheath thickening with excitement as he realized his own strength, his tip climbing slowly up under his shirt. He tried to ignore it.

At the bottom of his fourth rep, the wolves moved into his vision, and slid another couple of plates on the bar. "Hold up," he pleaded. "585 is too much." But maybe it wasn't, he thought.

"Come on, man, you're a pro," Ray said. "Got to find your max. Just give it a try."

Not like he had any choice. He pushed, the bar digging painfully into his pads as he summoned his strength. He arched his back, his feet braced against the floor. The bar rose, nearly six hundred pounds of it. He felt a sense of elation, his shaft crawling a little higher up his belly. Unbelievable. He was giddy with the sense of his own strength. He lowered the bar for one final rep. "Last rep, guys. This is it for me." When it reached the bottom, he heard a couple of scraping sounds. The wolves had slid another couple of plates on the bar.

It was more than he could handle. He lost control of the bar - it sunk down and dug painfully into his chest. "Guys!" he croaked, "too much!" He tried to push the bar up high enough to lock it into the pegs, but he couldn't move it.

Ray leaned over the bar, grinning broadly at him, showing a wide array of predatory teeth. "Aww, really? Is that too much weight for you, fag? I'm disappointed."

Fear ratcheted through Matt. They'd done this on purpose. He'd been dumb enough not to leave immediately when they'd showed up, and now they'd trapped him. Desperately, he pushed as hard as he could. The bar moved up a couple centimeters at most, his chest burning, feeling like it was tearing apart, arms screaming for relief, but it was enough for him to rotate the bar and lock it in place, just barely. It was still pressing down firmly against his chest, holding his arms in place. From this position, he couldn't let go of the bar. He was stuck.

"I dunno, Ray," the smaller wolf said. "He might have somethin' left. You know, after he rests a little."

"That's a very good point, Trav. We better make damned sure he's not getting' up, huh?" The wolves disappeared from view.

Matt thrashed his tail and kicked with his legs, trying scoot the bench back and slip out from underneath it, trying to squeeze out to either side, but it was of no use. The wolves came back, each holding a one hundred pound weight, which they slid onto either side of the bar. That was eight hundred and seventy five pounds. There was no way he was moving it. Only the very best powerlifters could lift that much weight, and he'd struggled with two thirds of that. His heart pounded. The bar was digging painfully into his palms and chest, his triceps aching with the stretch. "Please," he begged, "why are you doin' this? You don't even know me."

Ray leaned over him, one paw on the bar. "Don't know you?" he growled. "I dunno, homo. I think we might have met you before. Two days ago, right here in this gym. In the showers, in fact. We came in and found you preying on some little husky pup." He wrinkled his nose. "Trying to get him to do fag stuff. Disgusting."

It was impossible. He pushed again uselessly at the bar, knowing he couldn't lift it. "I dunno who you saw, guys, but it wasn't me. Come on. This is... this is illegal. You guys could get in big trouble for this."

Trav wagged his tail. "Don't think so, pal. Gym's all emptied out. Everyone had to leave. Tom decided he needed to lock up early. So it's just you and me and my buddy Ray, here."

The larger wolf tapped the side of his muzzle. "You may think you have everyone else fooled, but the nose doesn't lie. May have been just a quarter of your size, but it was you. We smelled you. We smelled what you did."

"A quarter my size? Two days ago? That's impossible, you know it is."

"Yeah," Ray said. "It is. Least it should be. So you're gonna tell Trav and me what you took to get like this. What is it? Some new kinda juice? Some sorta DNA thing? Gamma rays? You the fuckin' Incredible Bulk? What is it?"

Anger was beginning to mingle with the fear in Matt again. He suddenly didn't want to get away anymore; he wanted to pound them into the cork floor. He struggled again with the bar, trying in vain to raise it. "I told you," he groaned. "I don't know who you saw a couple days ago, but it wasn't me. You're talking crazy. You know you could go to prison for what you're doing here. You should just get out of here while you can."

"You know, Ray, maybe he's tellin' the truth," Trav said from Matt's other side. "It does sound kinda crazy that a guy could grow that much in two days."

"I know what I smelled, runt!" the big wolf snarled, turning toward Trav. "It was him!" He leaned down, putting both hands on the bar, his fanged muzzle inches from Matt's, his hot breath puffing in his face. "I don't like faggots. I hate your little fairy parades, I hate your bitchy attitudes, I hate the way you prey on straight guys who just want to be left alone, doin' all your disgusting gay shit with each other in public where the rest of us have to look at it. But I'm a reasonable guy. You tell me what you did to cheat your way into havin' a real man's body, and we'll let you go. If not..." He trailed off with a low, threatening growl.

Matt spit in his face.

It was not the smartest thing he'd ever done. In fact, he realized immediately afterward, it was positively, absolutely, the stupidest, most idiotic, brainless, suicidal thing he'd ever done in his whole life. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

Ray's face contorted in livid fury, his hackles lifting. "Now you listen to me, you mincing waterdog twat, if you don't tell me what I want to know in two goddamn seconds, me and Trav over there are gonna go grab another one of those hundred pound weights and drop it on your fucking head, you get me?"

Okay, now he could bring himself to regret it. His blood turned icy with fear. Ray really might kill him. "Okay, okay!" he croaked. "I'll tell you. It's... I don't know exactly what happened, but I swallowed a bunch of supplements all at once. They had a funny reaction on me. As you can see."

The wolf leaned upward again, his rage momentarily forgotten, ears perking in interest. "What supplements?"

"A whole list of them," Matt sighed. "It's in my car out front. In the back seat."

Ray jerked his head toward Trav. "Go," he said. "Check it out. And don't forget to prop the door open so you can get back in."

"Okay, Ray," Trav said, his ears back. His tail was drooping a bit, too. He didn't look very happy with the situation. Matt wondered if they'd done this sort of thing before. And what had happened to the people they'd done it to.

As the smaller wolf hurried off, Ray began to pace back and forth beside the bench. "You better pray he finds that list." He shook his head. "Even if he does, it doesn't look good for you."

Matt strained again at the bar, uselessly. Again he tried to slide the bench beneath him, bracing his feet and using his thick tail to try to push it. It wouldn't budge. He didn't know what to do. Maybe the gym staff would come back for something. Maybe Stetson would come looking for him. He sighed, the adrenaline beginning to make him shake. Maybe they'd let him off with just a bad beating. If Trav could even find the list. Had he put it in the back seat after all? He suddenly wasn't sure.

"Wait," he said. "Trav didn't ask me about my car. I mean, there's not just the gym here. How's he going to know which car is mine?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," Ray said. He tapped his nose again. "You got a real unique stink, there, homo. Won't be no trouble."

That was true, he thought. Sooner or later, everyone was going to know where he'd been, just from his scent. Wait. His scent. That was it. His mind suddenly raced. He wondered if he could get hard like this, trapped by a sociopath, nearly a half ton of weight digging down on top of him. But no, he had to. He pushed the thoughts of his situation out of his mind. He closed his eyes so that he couldn't see Ray. He made himself forget about what was about to happen, forget about the threats and the insults. He thought instead of a half hour ago, in the locker room, and that tantalizing husky rump arched upward for him, the curled tail twitching in eagerness. He thought of Devon looking over his shoulder, his eyes pleading as he begged to be taken, begged to be fucked, nudging his rump toward him, his white-furred sac visible between his lean-muscled thighs. He thought of the way he'd leaked as he pressed his tip up under that soft tail, feeling the hot flesh against it.

His cock throbbed in eager need, responding to his lust. It slid up his belly once more, stiffening. It felt so good. He thought of how it would feel to squeeze into the husky's tight rump for the first time. His sensitive tip pressed up against the soft fabric of his workout shirt. It felt good. He opened his eyes and gave a low groan.

Ray looked back toward him, and then down, his amber eyes widening. "What the fuck is that?" he demanded. "What've you got under your shirt?"

Matt shivered at the sensation of the fabric and flexed his cock, making it surge up an inch, lifting his shirt upward.

"The fuck," Ray said, his ears back, his hackles raised. He reached out toward Matt's shirt as gingerly as if he thought there might be a snake under it, and then gave it a quick tug upward, pulling it back and exposing the thick pole beneath to the gym air. Matt shuddered again as the smooth, synthetic material slid against it. "Oh man. Oh, man. You really are a homo. You get off on... on this?"

Matt didn't answer him. He didn't need to feed the lust with any more thoughts of Devon, it was accelerating on its own, now. He wanted sex badly. He needed it. His cock climbed higher and higher, and Ray stared at it with an expression of both horror and awe.

"That's you?" the wolf asked disbelievingly. "That's all you? Did the supps do that to you too?"

"Yeah," Matt groaned. His hips twitched upward, making his cock bounce and slap the tip against his belly. It stiffened again, a few drops of pre leaking from the end.

"Impossible," the wolf breathed, and then he paused and sniffed the air. Almost absently, he reached down and pawed at his crotch. "You do smell... really strange," he said. He sniffed the air again. Matt turned to look at him and saw his exercise shorts tenting out. "I mean, it's not exactly a bad smell. It's just..."

Matt gave his hips another twitch, flexing his cock again, and this time a rope of clear pre arched out and painted his chest and face. Ray stared at it, taking a step forward. He lifted up his shirt, exposing a thick red tip jutting upward. So much for any theory that he was compensating for something; he was seriously hung.

"The problem with you gays," Ray said, "is that you keep makin' other people ask themselves if they might be gay too. You make people think about doin' dirty, disgusting stuff. That's why you guys need to go. It's because of the sick thoughts you put in other people's heads." His gaze never broke from Matt's erection. "Like, if I weren't a real man, I might be thinkin' about climbing up on that right now, while I've got you trapped there."

Matt looked back at Ray. If it weren't for the horrible personality, he'd be amazingly hot. He was easily the biggest, most muscular guy Matt had ever seen in life, his massive swells of muscle barely concealed by his thick, shaggy pelt, which seemed only to make each bulge and valley stand out in increased relief. "Please," Matt said, in as neutral a tone of voice as he could manage, "don't do that."

Ray licked his nose hungrily. "Yeah, you'd hate that, wouldn't you, tough guy? Gettin' trapped by a bigger guy, shown up, threatened, and then he has his way with you?" The wolf's cock dripped a single drop that landed on his exercise shorts. "Yeah." His eyes were confused, but then he seemed to make up his mind. "I'm gonna teach you a lesson." With that, he gripped the bottom of his shirt with both hands and lifted it up over his head, exposing a heavy, powerful body that rippled and swaggered with his movements. He shucked his shorts in a few quick moments, his full sac jostling as it was freed. Naked, massive, and erect, he stood before Matt, still breathing deeply, his eyes hungry.

"You sure this is what you want to do?" Matt asked. Up until that moment, he wasn't sure that he wanted it either, but fucking this homophobic jerk hard was going to be really satisfying. "You can still stop if you want."

The wolf reached forward and curled his clawed fingers around Matt's shaft, making it twitch again reflexively. His tail wagged a couple times with eagerness. "I bet you'd like me to stop now, wouldn't you?" he grinned, and then he tugged Matt's shorts down with a couple of pulls. His tip dripped into the otter's fur as he lifted one leg high and stepped over him, massive thighs straddling the bench. He stood over the otter, tall and broad, a bulging specimen of hyper masculinity, and then reached down, with one hand, his lats on one side swelling delightfully as he did so, lifting the otter's shaft upward. Matt could feel his tip bump against the wolf's thighs, and then slide up between the most thickly muscled glutes it had ever touched. Ray settled back a little, and Matt could feel the squeeze of his rump around his tip as it nestled deeper and deeper. "Uhff," Ray grunted. "That feels weird." He looked down and bared his fangs in a triumphant grin. "You can beg me to stop this," he said. "You can beg me not to fuck you."

Technically, Matt thought, I'm fucking you. "Please stop," he said aloud. "I've learned my lesson. Stop." He felt a hot splash as he soaked Ray's ass with precum.

"No," the wolf barked a laugh, and then pushed back and down, his tight ring spreading around Matt's cock. Almost immediately, his eyes widened, and he gave a little yelp. "Gods," he groaned. "So thick. It... It kind of hurts."

Deeper, Matt groaned inwardly. Deeper. "Mostly the first time," he said. "Only real men can take it."

Ray gritted his teeth. "I can take it," he growled, and then he pushed down and backward again, sinking a few more inches of Matt's length into his rump. He was tight, almost too tight, and Matt had to make a mental effort not to flex his shaft now; if he hurt the Ray too much, he might pull off. The wolf leaned forward, bracing both paws on the bar next to Matt's his chest bulging broad, his massive thighs flexing as he pushed himself down and down and down around the otter's oversized cock. Finally his heavy sac rested down against Matt's abs; impossibly, he seemed to have squeezed the majority of Matt's foot plus of virility inside him. The wolf's cock was drooling with ejaculate that had been squeezed out of him by Matt's girth, but it was still hard and throbbing. "I did it," he grinned triumphantly. "Just like a difficult lift." He lifted up a little and sank down again. "That'll show you. That'll teach you not to fuck with me."

"Hey Ray, I found it," Trav's voice called. Matt and the wolf both looked over at the same time; the other bodybuilder was rushing in, waving a piece of paper over his head. "It fell under a seat, but I finally found... it..." He slowed to a stop, bewilderment written across his face, his ears to the side. "Ray? Ray, what's... what's goin' on?"

Ray grinned cockily. "I'm teachin' this little fucker a lesson, that's what."

Trav wandered forward, his brow furrowed, looking from side to side and sniffing at the air. "Ray, it kinda looks from here like you're lettin' him fuck you."

Matt gripped tightly at the bar, braced his feet, and pushed his hips upward, making the Ray widen his eyes and groan, making more seed and pre spill from his cock.

"Gah," the wolf growled. "No, I... it's just, he's trapped and helpless, see, so... this is me... showin' him I can do whatever I want to him. And he can't do nothin' about it."

Ears going back all the way, tail tucked, Trav came up to the machine. "Ray, are you... are you gay?"

The huge wolf growled, lifting up a bit, and then pushing down on the cock in his ass, groaning in apparent pleasure. "Course I ain't gay," he snarled. "Like I said, I'm just teachin' this little fucker a lesson." He began rocking up and down, giving little whimpers each time he sank down around Matt's shaft, his rump hot and slick and velvety-smooth. Matt groaned back, using the purchase under his feet and clenching his abs to meet Ray's motions, sliding up and down with an easy rhythm.

Trav sighed through his nostrils and breathed deep. "I guess you know best. But you shoulda let me do it for you, Ray. You shoulda let me take care of it so you didn't have to... do this." He breathed again. "Please let me teach him a lesson, Ray. Please let me."

"No!" the wolf roared. "He's mine!" He gripped the bar of the Smith machine, crouching lower over Matt, his hackles raised. He began sliding up and down around Matt's cock faster, now, with more urgency, a good half a foot of slick shaft pulling out with each moment before Matt slapped his hips against the huge lupine's ass again. The wolf's tremendous physique rocked and flexed above him with his movements.

An erection was plainly showing in Trav's his own shorts, and he began trembling as he clutched at it. "Please let him fuck me, Ray, please." He stripped off his shirt, revealing a physique that nearly rivaled the larger wolf's and a rising erection. "I'll do anything you want." He nestled up to Matt's side and pawed at the otter's shoulder and chest, and then caught sight of Ray's own drooling erection. "I'll make you happy." His jaws gaped as he leaned down and engulfed the bigger wolf's cock in his muzzle, licking at it with a tongue that slid out to stealthily drag against Matt's own belly.

Ray half groaned, half howled, his ring clenching around Matt's shaft a few times, and then he bounced, caught between thrusting back against Matt's hips and pushing up into Trav's muzzle.

Matt was too lost in lust to discern much beyond that. He barely felt the bar digging into his chest, the ache in his trapped arms. His hips hammered upward into the bodybuilder atop him, his thighs squeezing at his balls, and then he came, hard, shooting into the wolf riding him with what felt like terrific intensity. He cried aloud as he climaxed, unable to silence himself, and at the same time Ray made a gurgling sound, as if the volume of seed had filled him to the back of his throat. Instead, he felt it spray out around the exposed part of his shaft and soak his sac and the bench below him. Distantly, he was aware of Trav making a choking sound and drooling hot wolf seed across his belly. He pulsed again, making Ray cry out, "Oh gods!" and then again. He could hear his cum trickling down to the floor and feel it running back along the bench between his glutes.

And then the intensity of growth came to him again, surging through him, every muscle tensing. He could feel his cock stretching and swelling inside Ray, making the wolf whine, could feel his balls pulsing with new heaviness. And then strength spread throughout his limbs. The bench slid along his back, which widened so much that the breadth of it nestled between the wings of his lats. His ass scooted down along the bench as his height increased. He felt the sinews in his legs thicken and crowd each other even more. His abs pushed out, his traps mounded up, pushing his head higher. He could see Ray and Trav both staring at him in awe as his arms and legs thickened dramatically, his chest barreling out... and making the bar dig into it even more. He cried out in pain as nearly half a ton of weight dug into his chest, and in desperation, he pushed at it. The rough textured metal cut into his palms and made the bones of his paws ache. His arms shook and trembled, and then strained hard, thickening again. The bar budged.

He clenched his teeth, breath snorting through his nostrils, and pushed harder and harder. Inch by inch, eight hundred and seventy-five pounds of iron raised up off his chest, freeing it from its awful weight at last, his arms glad to finally stretch out. He lifted it to its full extension and hooked it in place.

"Holy shit," Ray said. "Holy fucking shit, did you just fucking see that?"

Trav moaned and pawed at his own erection. "Please let me teach him a lesson, too, Ray. Let him teach me a lesson."

"You can't," Ray sneered at him. "He's too big. It'd be too hard for you."

Matt sat up finally, feeling his new height and weight. He felt like a giant. He was pretty sure he was more built than Ray now. He gripped the wolf with both paws and lifted him up as if he weighed nothing, hefting him up as inch after inch of his cock slid out of the wolf, cum spilling out around his thighs, Ray groaning loudly at the sensation.

He put the wolf down on the bench and stood. Lust was still ratcheting through him; he had just climaxed, but he was ready to go again. He ached for it, like he had when chained up in Saul's basement. The Wellbutrin must not be entirely out of his system yet, or maybe this was just what he was like, now. Maybe it would take two or three times to satisfy him. He pulsed and strained with need, and so when the other wolf put his arms around him, panting into his chest, the point of his erection nudging up into his sac with urgent lust, and begged, "Please, please, please let me teach you a lesson," Matt obliged him.

He picked Trav up, carried him across the gy m, and set him sprawling across the preacher curls pad, the grey-furred rump pushed up in the air toward him in an imitation of Devon's earlier. He expected the wolf to have more difficulty taking him, but he pushed his cock into him with much greater ease than he had with Ray, almost suspiciously so. The smaller bodybuilder whined in pleasure and wagged his tail against Matt's belly. It took him longer to finish this time. He fucked Trav across the preacher curl pad, and an incline bench, hammered him down into an exercise mat on the floor, and finally nailed him up against the mirrors, leaving streaks of Trav's precum across the surface, watching his massive, hulking body flex and rut powerfully, narcissistic fascination fueling him, until the mirror cracked, sending a long, broken rift across it, and then finally he came again, with less powerful intensity this time, and stared in the mirror as his shoulders broadened to unnatural size, his chest pushed out beyond anything he'd seen before, arms thickening to incredible thickness, bulging so huge that his forearms pressed into his biceps if he curled up to ninety degrees. His heart began racing. If he were his old height, he'd be the size of some of the biggest pros out there, but he was far taller than that now.

He lifted the panting wolf up and up off his cock and more of his seed arced out and spattered across the floor. His shaft lifted forward with its weight, but he could tell he rivaled most horses now. In every description, he was huge. Trav's eartips barely reached the top of his chest. The wolf stared up at him in wonder. "What... what are you?" he panted.

Matt cast about for an answer to that question, the second time he'd been asked it today, and finally said, "Messy." He looked across the gym, where Ray was still sitting on the bench for the Smith machine, his head in his paws, obsessively running his fingers through his headfur and pushing his ears back.

"You guys think you can do anything to me now?" He shouted to Ray. The wolf looked up at that as if startled, and flinched backward. "You guys get the hell out of here. And don't ever mess with anyone again. You got me?"

Ray didn't answer. Matt marched across the gym. The machines shook with his footsteps. "I said you got me?" He stared into Ray's eyes.

The wolf nodded. "I... I got you, man." His ears were down, but Matt saw his gaze glance toward the paper Trav had dropped on the floor, the list of supplements, and then quickly look away again.

"Don't even think about it," Matt said. He crouched down, finding the new bulkiness of his body made this movement more difficult than it had been before, and picked up the piece of paper, wadded it up into a ball, chewed it, and swallowed it. Let them experiment with supplements all they wanted on their own. He grabbed his discarded clothes from the floor. "Go on," he said, "Get out of here. I'm gonna shower off, and when I come out, you better not be here."

Ray nodded again, and Matt headed back into the showers. Once inside, he started shaking with relief and exhaustion. The adrenaline was finally leaving him, and he felt trembly in its absence. In the space of an hour, he'd nearly lost his life, and then become a giant. It had been one hell of a day. All he'd ever wanted was to feel powerful and desirable. This hadn't been what he had in mind. For the first time since everything started, he wondered if it wouldn't be better just to be ordinary.

He stepped into the shower and closed his eyes, letting the water relax him, soak through his fur, soothe him. He had to crouch down to wet anything above his chest; the nozzle was just too low for him. Halfway through the shower, his stomach began growling with painful intensity, and he dashed for his supply of protein and began mixing it with the shower water, chugging it in gooey clumps directly out of the jugs, not even caring about the taste or texture. He didn't stop until it was gone, his belly feeling uncomfortably bloated and full. There was no noise from outside; he figured the wolves were probably gone, and then he thought about the mess he'd left in the gym. It wouldn't be fair to leave that for other people to clean up.

So he shook off, and headed back out into the gym. He was nude, but there was no one there anyway. Using paper towels and many trips to the fountain, he cleaned up as much of the mess as he could, and then got his clothes. He was surprised to find that they still fit him acceptably well; they were pretty well made after all, he supposed. Still. If he kept growing like had been, they wouldn't fit for very long.

He headed for the door with his bags, and then stopped in surprise. The cougar was behind the counter. One of the wolves had called him Tom.

"Dude!" the cat said. "You're still here? Ray and Trav said everyone was clearing out. Pro hour, you know. When the big boys wanna lift, you gotta say okay. They're what keeps everyone else coming here."

"You know, about that," Matt said. "I don't think guys like that make people want to come here. I think they make people want to leave. They're real assholes."

The cat's brows went up. "For real, bra? Shit. Man, I guess we should keep an eye on them, huh?"

"Yeah, you might wanna, Tom."

"ToMA," the cat corrected him.

"Right." He paused. Wait a minute. "Toma, do I look different to you at all?"

The cat scrunched up his forehead in thought. "Well, I mean you ARE way bigger than before. Must've been a great workout, huh?" He laughed.

"Um, are you serious?"

"Sure, you look like you really made some progress today, man. Good job. You're fuckin' huge now. Definitely top pro material." He looked back and forth, as if checking for people watching. "Man, speaking of that, I felt super lame about not just giving you that special rate. I mean, look at you. So what if you haven't won any contests. You might as well have. You're the biggest dude to come in here and no mistake. So... I was thinking maybe there's a way I could hook you up."

This sounded a bit dodgy, but the gear had been awfully expensive. "Yeah, how's that?"

"Well. I mean. If you hook me up."

Definitely dodgy. "Hook you up how?"

"Come on, man. You know. Show me what you got. I got a real good mouth."

Matt gaped at him. "You serious? You're... you're gay?"

"Course I'm am, man, that's why I'm here. Get to look at all the thick bros walkin' through here, liftin', getting' all sweaty. It's a sweet gig. So watcha think? You show me your stuff, and then I let you walk out of here with your gear for free."

"I'm not gonna steal stuff!" Matt said in shock. "No way."

"Nonono, I mean, not the protein and drinks and stuff. But that gear? New line is coming out next month. All this stuff's getting trashed. We're supposed to just cut it up and toss it so that people will buy the new stuff, but we never do. It's a waste. Are you kidding, steal? I can't lose this job, man, I been fired way too much already."

Matt thought for a moment. The gear had cost an awful lot. And he was short on cash. What harm could a little posing do? "Okay," he said. "But I'm gonna quit if things get weird." Like they could get weirder.

"Sure bra, no prob."

Toma led him off into the aerobics room. It felt weird standing and flexing; Matt didn't exactly like it. It made him feel too self-conscious and showoffy, which was ridiculous, he knew, but still. It was kind of embarrassing. On the other hand, Toma may have been a dim bulb, but he knew his bodybuilding poses forward and backward, and he patiently guided Matt and showed him how to do it. By the time they were finished, Matt felt pretty confident he could handle himself at a bodybuilding competition if he had to.

And the cougar turned out to be right. He did have a really good mouth. He knew just how to use the rough parts of his tongue, and when to use the silky smooth bits, and his short fur made his muscled, compact body ripple nicely as he licked. Matt let him clean that mess up, though. He had to crouch and turn to the side to squeeze back through the aerobics room door, and when he headed out the front, he banged his head really hard on the top of the frame, and bent it.

Outside, he rummaged through his car for everything he wanted to keep from it, and shoved it in a sack. He again felt a twinge of sadness at leaving it, but there was no chance he would even begin to fit into it anymore.

He began jogging toward home. The movement felt odd. His thighs had difficulty moving past each other, and his weight came down heavily on each paw as he ran. His arms were properly musclebound now, sliding against his lats as he jogged, and his sheath and sac bounced with strange heaviness with each step, as did every muscle on his body, from his huge calves to the traps that rose up to either side of his neck. He could see people in their cars staring at him as he jogged past them, little erratic changes in their steering proving that they weren't entirely paying attention to the road. The people that he passed on the sidewalk looked strangely small. He wasn't sure how tall he was now, but he guessed it was over seven feet: a proper giant. And he had no idea what his weight was, now, but several times his paws landed on a concrete slabs and cracked them in half.

It had been a long and crazy day. He'd been fired from work, and had sex with his boss on the hood of his car, seriously denting in the thing in the process. He'd rutted with the nurse in the hospital after being told his condition could continue to increase in severity for a solid month. Then he'd gone to the gym and had his life threatened by a couple of freaky homophobes, and engaged in sexual conduct that had bordered dangerously along the lines of nonconsensual, albeit on their part, not his. He was nearly a foot taller, and probably twice as heavy, and the day wasn't even over. Maybe he could just hang out at home and try not to masturbate. But all this had happened in one day. And now he was a giant, a massive, powerful, sexual beast. What would happen tomorrow? And the day after? What would he be in a month's time?

If he stayed like this, he could make it work, somehow. He could enter in bodybuilding competitions. Toma had showed him how, and could probably coach him more. Hell, at this size, he could probably get some professional sponsors. There was a potential career in it. But if today was any indication, he wouldn't stay at this size.

He watched the traffic go by as he jogged, and realized he was running at a terrific rate. His powerful legs were able to propel him at a surprising speed, despite his weight. It was, he thought, kind of cool. Exciting, even. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but he'd made peace with it. He didn't know what he'd be in a month, but he couldn't worry about that.

No, his brain told him. You don't worry about it. But someone else is. What was it the nurse, will, had told him? This isn't all just about you. No. It wasn't. He hadn't been the one worrying. It was Stetson that had been worrying for him. Stetson, who'd bent over backward to take care of him, to get him food, to take care of him. He'd been so selfish. He'd been running around town, having sex any time the urge - though it was admittedly almost uncontrollable - seized him. But Stetson was worried, afraid, even. Matt had made peace with the fact that their life was going to be different, but he hadn't shown Stetson that there was no need to be afraid. He needed to show him that everything was going to be all right, no matter what happened. No matter how big he got.

That was what he'd been forgetting all this time, and he cringed to think of it. Stetson was going to have a big - a very big_-_ surprise when he got home, but they could work it out. He could let him know everything would be okay.

His home street came up. Had he really jogged however far it was, perhaps five or six miles, in so little time? It seemed like only thirty minutes or so. He didn't even feel tired. He slowed down as he walked down the street. It looked so different, so small. Fences barely reached over his knees. He could reach up to the roofs of some of these houses. He wondered, then, if he'd be able to squeeze into his own, still.

There was his and Stetson's house. He walked up the front path, looking at how his paws completely covered the flagstones. He couldn't wait to see Stetson; the rabbit would probably be home in a couple of hours.

Halfway to the door something stung at his neck. His paw darted to it instantly, feeling for a bee or wasp. Instead there was something solid and weighty there. He pulled at it and stared at what was in his paw. A dart? Where had that come from? He frowned, suddenly feeling very confused. There was another sting at his shoulder, and then at his arm. He looked down in hazy bewilderment to see two more darts sticking out of his fur.

The world turned sideways, and he felt his breath knocked out of him. He stared around at the sideways world. A little cat swayed into his vision, holding a small rifle. Saul. He tried to tell him to back the hell away, but his tongue was thick and stupid, and wouldn't make the words.

"Hello there, Matt," the cat said. His voice sounded like it was coming from deep underwater. "My, but you did make a monster of yourself, didn't you? Delightful. Let's find out just how much worse we can make things, shall we?"

Matt opened his mouth to tell him exactly what he thought of him, but instead a low, bestial groan came out.

"Stubborn one, aren't you?" Saul said. "Good thing I came prepared." He lifted his rifle. There was a hissing sound, and then the world spun away.