Legacy of Chaos II: Reckoning

Story by xax on SoFurry

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in which i tackle some cliches.

this is kind of a love letter to video games behaving badly. falling out of the world is the most memorable thing you can do in a game.


Nick picked the game up a week before heading off to college. Well, "picked up" might not have been correct -- all the worrying about moving out, over to the big city, had him among other things compulsively cleaning and arranging all his stuff. He was an adult now, and that meant having adult responsibilities, like keeping a clean living space.

His cleaning spree quickly degenerated into organizing the files on his ancient external HD. He had piles of old games in whatever folders they'd been downloaded into, and by the fifth hour of organizing he'd unearthed all sorts of stuff that he couldn't even remember downloading. He might have booted the game up and then spent the next week deep in it, with his actual move-out mostly punctuation between loading up all the files on his laptop so he didn't lose his progress. That might have been a thing, which he did. The four-hour drive over, in his mom's car, was mostly him thinking about which dungeon to explore next.

So "Legacy of Chaos II: Reckoning" looked to be a few years old, and asked for a play CD despite running fine without one. It might've been modded, on top of being cracked? There was a .nfo in the directory with the executable, but it was just inscruitable ASCII art.

It was good, was the thing. He'd expected some shlocky fantasy junk, and -- okay, it was shlocky fantasy junk, but it was fun. There was some epic story about ancient evil sealed away and slowly waking that he completely ignored, and a whole bunch of lore about the pseudo-medieval kingdoms being overrun (also by evil), but the game started before all that, with just a big open world, and he kept steering away from the big obvious "plot here" markers.

The character generation screen had some basic race / class / build sliders, except then there were "advanced" options that opened up five pages of tweaks, from body type to brow asperity. He'd rolled his eyes; it seemed kind of a waste, since after an hour of face customizing you probably spent the rest of the game staring at the back of whatever helmet you were wearing. Two full pages of facial options seemed like overkill.

Still, he'd put together a huge orc, with all the height and muscle sliders pushed all the way to the max. His character had a blindingly orange mohawk and dusky green-brown hide, and came with a warhammer the size of his entire body. He'd wanted a kind of brawler character, a good damage soak. And, honestly... he'd wanted a character that was hot. The character creator came with the starting equipment, but it let him take it off, stripping his orc down to the loincloth that was fused to its nude model. The graphics were a little outdated, but it was recent enough to have shiny-skin, like his orc was stripped down and oiled up, biceps flexing as he held his huge warhammer over his shoulder. His character was just about as far from his own gawky self as he could imagine.

Scrolling down the lists of sliders, near the end, there had been a list of ones marked, simply, "Fitness": "Fitness (1)", "Fitness (2)", and so on, like even the devs had given up on listing "Rib concavity" or "Philtrum slope" or whatever. He couldn't even tell what they did -- maybe one of them slightly changed the shape of his shoulders? But "Fitness (4)" was the jackpot: he slid it a little left, then a little right, and then spun the model around to the front to see if he could tell any difference.

The bulge in the orc's loincloth was a lot more prominent. Eyes wide, he moved the slider again: to the left reduced the bulge between his thighs to a flat plane of muscle, and the other direction... his cock swelled from a slight bulge, to a distended pouch, to something that nearly broke the model mesh. The fabric-animated loincloth draping down to his knees exploded outward, half-clipping through the bulge, and underneath there was just a darker fabric texture, the texture stretched out like the wrapping was too small. Nick stared, looking away from the screen as if to check no one was watching before he shoved the slider all the way to the right: the orc's absurdly gigantic bulge filled the space between the orc's thighs, wobbling and clipping on his walk animation, like they'd used the same jiggle bones they had for breasts. Spinning the model around, he could see a sliver of the orc's bulge between his thighs, sagging and bloated. Nick swallowed, face hot, aware of his own cock thickening slowly as he tipped the camera down, sliding it until the orc's crotch filled the view. That had to be -- a joke the devs put in and forgot about when they just dumped all the model params for the character creator. He kept the slider pushed as far right as he could go.

The actual game was pretty good, too.

Most NPCs came halfway up to his chest, and he was even a head taller than the other orcs. Running around nearly-naked made the NPCs not talk to him -- persuasion penalty for nudity -- and it turned out he was getting massacred in combat without armor, so he had to go and get himself some clothes anyway, which flattened his character's bulge into a low mound, painted across the front of his trousers.

He was all ready to treat the game as basically softcore porn -- get to the Arena area and wrestle a bunch of muscular, nearly-naked monsters -- except then he got sidetracked doing some bizarre magic questline about hooking together an ancient thaumic engine, and then there was this whole thing about moving the parts around to ostensibly stimulate the ley lines but really (he figured) as an excuse to drop a bunch of half-finished debug tools into the game world. He ended up flattening part of the nearby landscape before he figured out the puzzle, and by that time he'd spent his first dozen levels on intelligence near-exclusively, so he could translate all the old tomes. So his brawler orc ended up being a master thaumaturgist and artificer and was still roughly level 1 at hitting things.

It didn't hurt that he found some mage armor that was just a skimpy toga, leaving half his chest and back bare, and with -- when he found out that wearing one piece of clothing was enough to stop all the NPCs from complaining about his nudity -- the hem just barely covering his bulge, fabric simulation stretching in angular tris over the truely hypertrophic bulge of his cock.

The game let him turn on auto-navigation between locations, too, so he could spin the camera around and watch. He didn't jerk off to it while actually playing, okay. Just-- in his dark room, watching his orc's muscles flex in the run animations, watching the fabric-animated skirt of his toga crinkle up and reveal slivers of the orc's inner thigh, little snatches of his loincloth when he ran uphill. He leaned in close, one hand rubbing against his chubbing cock through his jeans, grinding the heel of his palm against his dick until it hurt, his breath coming fast.

Some of the NPCs had "romance" options, but -- clearly the devs had put some thought in 'sexualities', and the only gay guys were in the big, seedy town of corruption, obnoxious fat guys in top hats that seemed more of a joke than anything else. Most of the NPCs didn't have any depth anyway -- apparently (from checking the manual .pdf) there were "companion" characters, but the few he'd met in-game were all gated by quest progression -- it was too bad, because he wouldn't mind seeing some of them naked. Or, at least, as naked as the game engine could manage. He mostly resigned himself to clicking through the same dozen dialog trees, with minor species / race / class / location variations, and not really having any of the "deep character interaction" that was bullet-pointed in the manual.

The game was glitchy as hell, too. It started him off in what was clearly supposed to be a walled-off newbie area, except one of those walls was the ocean shore, and he just... walked along the beach, between the mountain and the ocean, and eventually ended up in an area where some big questgiver NPC in the first town was thanking him again for saving her life. So that was a thing. As it turned out, most of the quest barricades were as easily-circumvented. There was this big swamp area, the Nightwoods, that looked neat but was gated by some big quest line that sounded boring as hell ("servants of evil had been spotted in the swamp, so you have to collect twenty sabotaged devices in the forest, and then" -- and he could not click "Ignore" on that quest fast enough), so he turned around from the pass between the areas and hugged the mountainside, and it wasn't long before he found a few clusters of rocks that he could jump between all the way up to the tops of the mountains, putting him in the weird, minimally-decorated landscape between the areas, and from there it was really easy to just walk down the mountain on the other side. The barricades didn't even have an other side; he could clip right inside them and walk through them back out. He got really good at inching over mountains, or hopping over gatehouses by the weird clipping at the seams of their models, or otherwise messing with whatever other obstruction the devs had put down to gate progress.

All the sequence breaking didn't seem to have any consequences, aside from (he guessed) a bunch of plot triggers not flipping, so he'd have cities full of people, half of which wouldn't stop talking about the latest development in the Seige On Skyheart , which he'd never even heard of, and the others had suspiciously blank conversation trees, with only the handful of dialog options that every NPC in the game had. But the game really opened up -- well, he assumed; he had no clue what the progression was supposed to look like, and there was no way he was gonna trek halfway across the continent back to the starting areas to run through some level 10 main plotline quest to "properly" unlock whatever was supposed to be next. None of the PC houses seemed to care about game states, so he just set up inside whichever house showed up on the minimap as a respawn point and kept advancing further, doing the occasional bizarre magic puzzle quest but mostly just exploring the world.

A week was just enough time to get really into it; he'd started keeping some loose-leaf paper of scratched-out maps, all about how the areas hooked together in the parts you weren't supposed to get to, and then the whole college thing happened, and it was honestly pretty annoying, backing his saves up and moving a few boxes into his new dorm, hugging his parents goodbye, and then he was right back into exploring the world before their car had even pulled out from the parking lot below. The dorm was small and divided neatly into two symmetrical halves; his roommate was apparently a jock or something. Nick kind of nodded at his roommate when he came in, still focused on his game. He put some pants on. He meant, on his character. Staring at his orc's flexing ass seemed like it would be a little more embarassing with someone watching him.

In the game, he was mapping out the very edges of the game world. Up north there was a desert that wrapped endlessly around, and after passing the same oasis ten times he'd gotten bored of the sand devils (at day) and trolls (at night; they froze into big stone statues the second dawn hit) and decided to go elsewhere. West there were mountains full of wyverns, and after jumping up them he'd realized they just ended, the rocky walls eggshell-thin when he flipped the camera over the final ridge and realized there was literally nothing out there. So he tried south, in the ocean, and: jackpot. There was an island chain off the edge of the map, and it was littered with underwater caves -- maybe a half-finished area, or just one that had some other way of getting there aside from water-walking over the coral reefs.

All the armor models had wet, shiny versions that clung to the character's skin, making his skin gleam golden, and making his already-skimpy armor even more like softcore orc porn. There were huge sahagins, with heads like sharks, complete with a dorsal fin, shoulders nearly humpbacked with the smooth curve of muscle that was their necks. They were almost as big as his enormous orc and just as musclebound, hide all green and yellow scales, darker green fins like tufts of hair across their forearms and chest, branching on their calves and at the tip of their tail, in an enormous two-fin tip. They had horns -- or maybe it was like a laurel-leaf crown -- of pink coral, branching spars wrapping around their heads. They were naked -- well, since they were monsters, after all -- with rippling muscles across their stomachs, legs spread to make room for the thick tail that continued out from their ass. He fought a few of them, and that ended with him leaning close to the screen, breathing hard, one hand on the keyboard and the other shoved down the front of his shorts, clenching around his dick. His roommate had left at some point. He wasn't completely unaware of the world outside the game.

He had to pause the game, lie back on his bed, and jerk off -- it only took a few strokes before he came, squirting across his stomach. He thought about a swarm of them surrounding his orc, tearing his clothes off, gigantic cocks jutting from their crotches, drooling as they gangbanged him in ankle-deep water, leaving him fucked-open and coated in monster jizz, the orc's own massive cock sluggishly spurting his load into the cloudy water. So he was really glad his roommate had ducked out just as soon as he entered, and didn't seem like he was coming back soon.

It was a really good game.

But, two days later: the way it worked was most monsters used the same NPC system as the actual NPCs, only with their dislike for the player turned up way, way high, so they were constantly hostile. He found this out on accident, after some weirdness with a cave full of bandits who would yell insults at him but were otherwise not hostile, and after that it was a simple thing to brew up some potions of Charisma to buff his stats enough that the wildlife stopped attacking him. The generic wolves ended up having the generic NPC dialog about locale-specific features, and he could ask them for directions to the nearest town; it was pretty funny.

He got pulled out of the game by his roommate -- Chad? Brad? Bill? -- tapping his shoulder. "Hey, we've got orientation, you gonna go?" and oh, right, he had obligations outside the game. College. Only a few days until classes started.

He nodded, closed out the game for now, but honestly -- mostly he nodded through the orientation, still thinking about that latest glitch. Mobs seemed to have pretty shallow dialog pools, and it wasn't like there were any places in the game that he couldn't get through from mob difficulty, but... But it occurred to him he could go back to the sahagin cave, just hang out with the sahagin. See if they had any interesting dialog. He had to remind himself not to focus too much about fantasizing about him -- his orc -- getting gangbanged by sahagin, when he was supposed to listen to a staff member talk about his meal card and the facility hours.

He headed back to the cave right after the orientation. And, honestly, it was pretty disappointing. Most mobs had generic dialog, and a few were so bugged out he couldn't even talk to them. The sahagins -- while still really hot -- were more of the same. Disappointing, but not unexpected.

Except then, on his way around a tidal cave, he noticed a flooded pathway at the bottom of a pool he'd completely missed before. It showed up on his minimap before he noticed it, actually: an exit to [UNDERGROUND AREA] in the middle of a deep tide pool, and that got him to take a closer look.

[UNDERGROUND AREA] ended up being another sahagin cave, only with more glowing crystals. The path wound underwater, fading from tropical blue to a murky purple, and then he emerged in an underground sea cave, black water lapping at an abyssal coast. It was pretty cool. More importantly, there were "corrupted sahagin", which for all the game's talk about evil and corruption were the first corrupted mobs he'd seen. Probably whoever wrote the area flags just assumed by the time the player got here -- if they were even ever supposed to get here -- they'd gotten all the important main-quest triggers flipped.

The corrupted sahagin were -- hotter. Bigger and more muscular. Their green-and-yellow color scheme had gotten swapped out for blue-and-purple, and they had ropy veins of glowing blue across their faces and chests, in thick lines down their cartoonishly exaggerated arms. Their eyes glowed purple-black, wisps of energy billowing out behind them. Their coral horns were the same purple-black, with brilliant blue splotches. And their fins had been mostly replaced with weird crystal clusters, the same brilliantly glowing blue as their veins -- craggy lines from the top of their heads down their back, coating their dorsal fin in clumps, more running down all the way to their tails. Their outer thighs were encrusted with crystal shards, glowing veins branching in to their crotch, and with the texture fidelity being what it was it wasn't hard to imagine the discolored region in the center was a big slit, ready to gape open and reveal their monster cocks.

The actual area was some massive ancient ruin -- a corrupted area, he assumed -- all full of weird demonic architecture, with a winding path through the ruins that ended in a strange little domed altar, with an immense barred gate that just opened into blackness. Bizarrely, like the inexplicable cherry on top of the whole area, it was flagged as a PC dwelling. It was possible there were quest triggers he was missing, but there was just nothing he could really do there. But, on reflection, he decided it didn't really matter where he had his alchemy system (and beehive, and loom, and enchanting table... he'd collected a lot of crafting junk in his way through the game), and being able to oogle the corrupted sahagin was better than the perks of any other dwelling he'd come across in-game so far.

Moving took a while -- teleport back to his old base, lift as much furniture as he could carry, swig all the charisma potions he had, teleport to the weird ruin, chat up all the sahagin to make him need less potions next time, drop everything, repeat -- and it took him two rounds to realize one of the sahagin actually had a unique name. The game was pretty bad about that kind of thing; a bunch of townspeople had names, but bandits were just generic "bandit", and the same went for most mobs. The sahagin in question -- uh, "Ma'ilele", according to the UI box -- shared the same model as the rest of the corrupted sahagin, but he was blown up, like 120% the size, so that he was even taller than his orc. He hadn't really noticed.

That sahagin's dialog tree -- maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he seemed at least marginally more interesting to talk to than most NPCs. He liked phuka shells (for their iridescent color) and otters (for their wiggling tails), and it was kind of... cute, to see the looming monster talking about that. A gift from whoever'd programmed the random interest generator for generic NPCs. He charmed his way up into Ma'ilele's good graces, beyond the buffer his ungodly Charisma boost gave him, and it was -- he stared at the lines of canned flirts his character was exchanging, flushing less at the lines themselves than the story of how it could be, some orc adventurer falling into a sahagin village and charming the, what, chief? Until maybe they'd spend the night together, the orc pinned for the first time under the sahagin's huge bulk, clawed hands slowly stripping his armor off until they were both naked --

But he shook his head, sitting back with a jolt, and the scene receded back into two blocky models gesticulating at each other, shifting iconographs in speech bubbles over their heads. The sahagin had a heart in its. His nose had nearly been pressed against the laptop screen. It was kind of embarassing, maybe, or dumb, but-- whatever. It wasn't like he was the only person to project weird porn and/or relationship fantasies onto video game characters.

Then the "romance" option popped up in the dialog select. He just stared: he could feel his face heat up, like the game character was really hitting on him. He scoffed at all those romance options in games, but... well, more than half of that was just because nearly none of them were gay. With some huge sahagin monster hitting on him, he could see the appeal.

He unloaded his inventory of junk into giving gifts, including some phuka shells -- they were trash crafting mats -- that gave him a solid 20 point boost each, and then bam, maxed out romance bar, they were Dating. A flurry of hearts surrounded them both, and like most effects in the game it left both their models glitched out, his orc briefly red-and-purple before his texture snapped back -- the sahagin with its arm and a chunky triangular region of its chest painted with striped lines, and that stayed even as the heart cloud faded out into a single status icon floating over the sahagin's head, the same place the buff/debuff icons showed up.

So then that made the "sleep with" action available and of course he had to try that immediately. Like -- yeah, yeah, it was probably just a fade-to-black with some moaning, or at best his orc shirtless. Whatever. He clicked it and the screen faded to black, briefly vindicating him -- except then it faded back in. They were back in the shrine he'd just set as his home, on the portable bedroll, and Ma'ilele was straddling him, his glitched-out arm texture wildly warping with impossible parallax every time his animation cycle changed. Nick leaned in closer, eyes wide, and the camera cut forward: his orc with his top armor removed, shirtless, the sahagin's huge claws digging into his chest (well, partially clipping through, but forgive him a little interpretation). The sahagin reached down, hand over the garguantuan bulge of his orc's cock, and things faded to black again. Nick was hard in his jeans, free hand palming against his dick. Even if that was it -- a short little softcore scene was so much more than he'd expected.

Then the scene faded back in again, and his orc was naked. That was his dick. Not just the loincloth-mesh of the naked model: his cock was pressed against his chest, exactly as huge as his bulge implied, with the shiny head sandwitched between his pecs. Nick felt his jaw drop. This was-- there was no way-- the game had to be cracked, and there was one of those weird nude mods added. No way was this a for real part of the game. Meanwhile, on-screen, the sahagin was stroking him off, clawed hand not quite touching his cock. He ground forward, and then the camera's pan let him see the sahagin's cock -- cocks. Which-- no, there was just no way. Even the most exhaustive nude mod wouldn't have added models with dicks for every single enemy in the game. But still: on screen they were rutting together, the sahagin's twin cocks bracketing his orc's monster, the sahagin's claws pinning his orc's shoulders back, the orc's hands on the sahagin's waist. Nick glanced away, feeling like he was gonna get caught -- watching the sudden inexplicable orc porn his video game had turned into -- and then, like a magnetic pull, back to the scene unfolding in-game.

Except then their movement stuttered, jerked forward. The textures everywhere wobbled and streaked, the sahagin's skin texture just repeating bars, picking up brilliant pink error pixels, before the scene exploded, geometry warped to incoherency for a fraction of a second before it crashed to desktop.

Nick yelled, an automatic "What?!", and opened it back up, only for it to crash again before even getting past the intro loading screen. He tried again, and then again, with the same result every time. He groaned, wiping his hand across his face, suddenly struck by how -- weird? Weird was probably a good word -- this was. Him trying desperately to keep playing his unexpectedly pornographic fantasy game, just so he could watch a bunch of models with mangled textures fuck. Whatever, he thought, with a sudden resolve. It was evening already; he could see if he could stop it from crashing tomorrow.

Like the universe was answering his resolve, the door to his dorm crashed open. And, maybe after all it was a good thing the game crashed, or else his roommate (they'd introduced themselves, but Nick couldn't remember the guy's name for the life of him. Brad? Bill? Phil?) would've caught him jerking off to video game monster porn. "Oh, hey, sup," Probably Brad said.

Probably Brad was absolutely a jock, by the way. Nearly the archetypal example, if you asked Nick. They'd been living together for three days now, and even though Nick hasn't really been paying attention he'd never seen his roommate wearing something aside from baggy mesh shorts and a loose a-shirt, sometimes with a backwards baseball cap on.

"So there's a party down on the row," Probably Brad said, jerking his thumb behind him, like Nick could see the few blocks down. "You, uh, wanna come with?"

Nick didn't actually want to spend time with anyone, including/especially Probably Brad, but -- it was college. He should push himself. Live a little. "Sure," he said.


Living a little turned out to be a huge mistake. So he went with Probably Brad, out from the dorms and down the street, and it turned out the street at the edge of campus lined with frat houses hit the freeway and kind of exploded into a mess of converted grain-processing factories, and it was there where the party was. Probably Brad led him up the steps to some monolithic concrete building, and the inside was a riot, packed so tight they swam through a sea of other people.

There was pounding music, so loud he couldn't identify anything other than the bassline, and people yelling to be heard over the music. The inside was boiling hot. Nick expected to be able to see the heat rippling up, like each person was a lit candle, heat like smoke wafting up and forming a murky fog at mezzanine height. He figured -- people, what, "mingled"? Was he supposed to just walk up to some stranger and say hi? That would be hard, over the pounding music. His entire body was resonating in time with the bass. There were a bunch of rings of people, four or a dozen or anywhere in between, and he kind of got the impression they were talking to each other...?

The inside was all big white rooms with uneven plaster walls, the -- doorways? passages? -- between each one a kind of low, short hallway. Some of them were stairways: up to a partial second floor, rough wooden planks sunk into the wall.

He and Probably Brad had split apart -- or rather, Probably Brad had waved at some people through the crowd and then surged away, leaving Nick on his own. He just kind of -- walked around for a while, loitering in each room until it felt like it was getting awkward, and then moved on, until he'd gone in a big circuit.

Eventually he ran into Probably Brad again, in a circle of people, and kind of waved.

"HEY MAN," Probably Brad yelled.

"I THINK I'M GONNA GO," he yelled over the music, and Probably Brad tipped his head, cupping an ear. "I SAID, I'M GOING TO HEAD BACK!" he yelled again.

Probably Brad raised his cup. "SOUNDS COOL MAN" he said, or at least that was what it kind of sounded like.

Nick waded through the crowd, finally passing back through the low plastered corridor and out into the hallway, and from there outside -- with each passage damping the music behind him, and the feverish heat, and the general sense of people. Outside, with his breath wisping in the chill air, the night shades of amber streetlights and purple-black sky, it finally felt like he could breathe again.

The walk back to the dorm couldn't have been too long. He was cold and clammy by the time he unlocked the door, fingers stiff. College was -- maybe it was just nerves, again, but he was overwhelmed. He'd never been good with social situations.

Four flights up, and it took a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark dorm room after the light in the hallway. There was a diffuse brightness from somewhere that didn't quite click until he stepped inside: his laptop was on, the screen a solid white. He panicked a little, dashing over and trying to swipe it awake -- all he needed now was his computer to break, on top of everything else. Nothing. He looked at it, brightness at max, every single pixel flat white, and held down the power button, hoping it'd turn off and back on normally.

The pixels across the screen rippled, faint geometrical patterns on the white field, and then a kind of weird iridescence, bubbling up across the plastic of the screen. He looked down, brows furrowing, and --

And the screen warped, bulging out in the center before cracking, and he jerked back with a scream. Plastic and droplets of liquid crystal burst out, followed by -- a thing, protruding from the screen, like it was pushed out from inside. It twitched, rotating, and then flexed. The shape resolved itself in his mind: a hand, or a low-poly model of one, straining out from inside his computer.

"What the fuck?!" he yelled, skittering away from his computer. The hand reached out, groping for the edge of the screen, and then grabbed hold and pulled, joined by a second hand. A shape like a body hauled itself out of his broken laptop, like it was pulling itself out from a deep pit. The figure was -- he recognized it with a dizzying sinking feeling. It was Ma'ilele. Looking like he'd looked the moment the game had crashed: the textures all up one arm parallel lines that warped and converged wildly as he moved, and stretching in a sharp, abrupt triangle to the center of his chest. Corrupted textures buzzed from his eyes; from the pinpoint lights of his coral horns. His shoulders cracked the screen's frame, warping it out so he could fit the bulk of his body through, and he slumped out from the computer screen, hitting the floor and dragging himself forward, tail and legs slithering out, tail slashing up and then crashing down on his desk, sending papers flying. As he pulled himself free, he... resolved, for lack of a better word. The polygons of his model flaked away, like clinging eggshell peeling off, revealing smoother, more realistic skin -- and then again, and again, shedding layers of polygons until his muscles tensed and flexed under his hide, little lines of glowing-blue blood speckling his sides where he'd scraped them against the sharp edges of the broken screen. The garbled black-pink pixels streaking from his glowing eyes became a brilliant fog, wisping away like smoke; hazing the wildly blitting textures ringing his laurel-leaf horns. There was a final pop once his feet slithered from the screen, and what little was left of the screen went dark, a thin line of smoke rising from the keyboard.

The room was, in anything, better lit than before: Ma'ilele's glowing veins cast a watery blue light through the room, and the shattered textures ringing his head cast their own intermittent light, like a blinking radio diode. The crystals clustered across his hide refracted and reflected the light, so his silhouette was limned in a faint rainbow aura.

Nick wasn't really in a state of mind to appreciate the graphical fidelity, though. "What the fuck?" he repeated, voice squeaking.

Maybe drawing Ma'ilele's attention to him was a bad idea: the sahagin looked up, eyes blazing multicolored static, and his shark mouth peeled back in a grin, showing off double rows of serrated fangs. He stood up slowly, dusting off stray pixels and laptop shards, and he was -- massive. A good foot and a half taller than Nick, at least. And Nick's eyes went straight between his legs: he had a slit between his legs, veins branching over it, and it was distended in a fat mound, its lips flushed a brilliant purple, with strange spines engorged around the edges, like a frill. The very tips of his cocks peeked out, sharp and drooling, flourescent blue ooze slowly dripping down the wet curves of his lips and over his slick hide.

Ma'ilele took a step closer, and then another, and then the sahagin's huge claws were wrapping around Nick's shoulders. "Hey," he said, in a disconcertingly normal voice, head ducking down to hiss in the shell of Nick's ear; Nick's entire body shuddered, mouth hanging open.

"What -- are you -- are you for real? Like, the real-- Ma'ilele?" he said, utterly butchering the name.

Ma'ilele snorted, absently peeling a lo-rez fragment from his forearm, the hide underneath slimy. It sputtered like a fuse when he dropped it, dissolving into stray pixels. "Well, Nicholas, the 'real' Ma'ilele was a hundred lines of game script and another hundred of text corpus, so: nah, not really."

"So, uh, who are you?" Nick said, taking a step back, aware he'd just pressed himself against the wall, the plastic pane of the dorm window bending against his back.

"I'm an actual person instead of a dialog script; I'd say that's better."

"So, are you -- real? For real?"

Ma'ilele chuckled, less a laugh than just an acknowledgement of humor. His hips rolled forward, the nubby tips of his twin cocks bleeding hot slime through Nick's tee-shirt, smearing against his skin. "I feel pretty real," he said. "Why don't you check?"

Nick squeaked, air stuck in his throat, just staring down wide-eyed at Ma'ilele's vent, the hide straining outward, sharp fishhook spines of his cockhead spreading outward, revealing a mess of fleshy barbs beneath. His hand twitched forward, not so much touching as slapping against Ma'ilele's sleek hide. He felt in awkward jerks towards the radiant heat of his spread vent, practically outlined by glowing veins branching across the wet, unfurling mound. This was the first time he'd ever touched a dick that wasn't his own. If monster dicks counted for that. He heard himself talking, voice shrill in his own ears: "So are we -- were we -- dating?"

"Well, you did get my romance values to a hundred," Ma'ilele said, wry. "I'm sure that counts for something. But we got interrupted before things got going last time," he said, and his fingers played down Nick's scrawny chest. "I was thinking we could have a do-over." His lips curled into a terrifyingly-wide smile against the side of Nick's head, and Ma'ilele rocked forward, his cocks pressing hard against Nick's hand. They throbbed against him, and each pulse spat out blobs of glowing slime, soaking his shirt to his skin all the way up to the collar.

"What?" he said, weakly.

"I was thinking we could fuck," Ma'ilele said, rolling his hips. "Since you seemed pretty into it before."

"But--" Nick said, flailing his arms, like he could encompass the entire situation -- but I'm not exactly a burly orc; but you just climbed out of my computer, what the fuck. In the light of how there was an enormous, muscled monster-guy rutting against him, his mind settled for the first one. Less likely to undermine the foundations of reality than the answer to the second one. "But weren't you expecting -- I mean, wasn't I -- orc? Big?" he said, tongue tripping over itself.

"Yeah, I know," Ma'ilele said. "And I was thinking we could do something about that, too...." One of his huge hands trailed down Nick's shoulder, claws catching in the fabric of his shirt. He rucked up his shirt, revealing his pale, basically toneless belly, wisps of hair running down from his belly-button. His hand was feverishly hot pressed against Nick's bare skin, and then it seemed like the burn soaked into his body, muscles spasming and clenching. It felt like getting punched in the gut, and he doubled over, wheezing. The spasms spread everywhere Ma'ilele was pressed against him: curving up his chest, down over his hips. He peeled his shirt up, staring down at himself, and with each contraction he could see the shape of his abs, thickening with each clench. His skin was dusky, darkening in splotches, and even in the wavering blue light he could tell it had a green tinge.

"What?" Nick croaked. His voice cracked in the middle like he was fifteen again, register dropping, and a half-second later he realized Ma'ilele had caught him by the shoulders when he fell, his hands pressed against his neck, and the same burning was soaking into his throat.

"Hold on," Ma'ilele said, leaving him trembling on the floor, staring with wide eyes at the swell of his abs, already too blocky to fit on his thin frame -- the muscles bulged out, distending from the rest of his stomach, green hide splattered in an asymmetric splash across his chest. The dorm light flicked on, bright, and Nick stared down at his stomach. His skin was softer, thicker -- he could feel its edge under his fingers, where it changed from his usual pale skin to orc-hide. The hair down his stomach was a blond-orange, prickling thicker an inch behind the orc-skin.

Ma'ilele knelt next to him again, claws catching on the hem of his t-shirt and dragging it over his head. Barechested the change looked even more bizarre, the muscles far too blocky on his skinny frame, like a kind of chunky pregnancy, bulging out his stomach. Ma'ilele chuckled, hands dragging up his sides, his own massive body pressing against him, and when Nick tipped his head up Ma'ilele looked down, his maw opening. Their mouths met, Ma'ilele's bifurcated tongue flitting from his mouth, sliding slippery and slick over Nick's lips, and he whined, voice cracking again. Heat spread across his shoulders, skin there heavy under his fingertips, and he could trace the shifting muscles as they grew. Wiry hairs burst across his shoulders with hot pinpricks, the muscle beneath growing into a huge muscular yoke. With Ma'ilele pressed against him, his entire upper body was shifting, splotches of green skin growing and merging together. Nick trembled and gasped -- heart pounding, lungs heaving -- as the fiery rush spread all through him. Dizzy, he found himself pressing sloppy kisses against Ma'ilele's neck, his teeth aching as they stretched -- the points of tusks visible at the edge of his sight, jaw cracking like warping wood as it grew to match.

There was a pop, cartilage crunching, and suddenly he had a pretty substantial underbite, jaw gigantic, rubbery lips not quite closing over the still-growing mass of his lower tusks. His teeth rasped over the slope of Ma'ilele's shoulder, dimpling his scaled hide, drool spattering from his mouth. His tusk-tips dug into the groove between his absurdly-defined muscles and the sahagin groaned, rumbling all around him. Nick opened wide and bit, blunt teeth digging hard into the muscle of his shoulder, and Ma'ilele groaned louder, voice warbling, huge webbed hand spanning the back of Nick's head, pulling his teeth deeper. The sahagin's twin cocks spurted hot slime against his stomach, soaking into the thick mat of hair that was spreading there. Nick bit again, and again, sucking wet bruises into his hide, all the way up the slope of his shoulder and to the hinge of his jaw, pulling away to kiss him again, both of them drooling; lips and fangs and tusks making it impossible to press tight together. He was talking, mumbling: "Oh god, oh fuck, please, more", over and over, interspersed with low grunts, his voice a low rumble in his own ears, lisping and cracked from his new mouth.

The change had swept up his head, the shape of his skull; the planes of his face shifted in subtle ways. Hair prickled across his jaw, rough stubble that scraped over Ma'ilele's skin as they kissed. At some point he'd inherited the thick bull-ring septum piercing of his character, and now it was a constant weight, heavy and tugging at his nose, skewing to the side as he dragged his face up the slope of Ma'ilele's head.

Nick pulled back, head spinning, looking down at himself. He looked -- like an Orc. Like his character. He ran a hand through his hair, his brown hair coming out in loose clumps, already replaced with tufts of -- he pulled a hank down, going cross-eyed staring at it -- more blond-orange hair, tufted down the center and short at the sides; the same fauxhawk his character had. He shook his head, loose brown hair exploding in all directions; Ma'ilele snorted when some landed across the tip of his snout.

For the first time he could really feel his muscles -- before he had the sense that yes, muscles, skeletal locomotion, but now he could focus: clenching his pecs and watching them shift; flexing his bicep just to feel it contract, and then twisting his forearm so his tricep stood out in sharp relief.

Except all that ended at the waist: his cargo shorts were resting high, digging into his waist. His lower body had filled out some, just from ambient exposure, but even the slightly-toned muscles were comically tiny compared to his upper body. Ma'ilele pulled back fractionally, and Nick wobbled, legs trembling under the sheer weight of his upper body. They both went down at the same time: Nick tugged at the button of his shorts, Ma'ilele's hands wrapping around the waist and pulling the zipper down by main force, stripping him of his shorts and Batman boxers in one motion, tossing them aside so that he was sitting on the dingy dorm carpet, totally naked.

There were patches of green hide across the outside of his thighs, fuzzy with blond hair, and the muscles stretched a little further; thighs thick and muscular all the way down to his knees. His cock, rock hard, was -- he had a perfectly nice dick, he knew. It was statistically above average. But compared to the monster his orc had, or even to the two foot-and-then-some prongs jutting from Ma'ilele's vent, drooling across his stomach, it was hard to not be a little embarrassed of his dick. He wrapped his hands around Ma'ilele's, making to wrap them around his dick, but the sahagin pulled back, his own muscles surging as they wrestled.

Nick found himself laughing -- "C'mon man, you're holding out on me!"; "Little impatient, huh?" Ma'iele said in response, teeth bared -- trying to force Ma'ilele's hands around his dick, the sahagin just rubbing up and down his thighs, sending green hide growing in streaks, thighs trembling and they swelled. They flipped over each other -- there was a moment he was on his stomach in a headlock, Ma'ilele's arm wrapped around his neck, his twin cocks dribbling in the small of his back -- until somehow it ended with him on his back, Ma'ilele sitting on his knees, keeping his hands pinned over his head with one hand, his other stroking his stomach, each motion sending a sparking rush of heat down to his cock. Nick squirmed, face flushed, his cock neatly slotted between Ma'ilele's massive shafts, rasping back and forth over the huge, fleshy bristles coating his shafts.

It turned out sahagin feet were nearly as dextrous as hands: Ma'ilele leaned forward, knees bracketing Nick's waist, and twined their legs around each other. The drawn-out arch of his huge webbed feet wrapped around his calves, the hide supple as Ma'ilele rubbed down his calves and feet. The change was so much quicker this time, maybe because almost the rest of his body was already there -- a rush of spasms, thighs and calves cramping as they swelled larger, dense pressure and weight anchoring his body, outpaced by the sheer power building in his frame. The joints in his feet cracked and popped, toes spreading wider, and they dug into the carpet, even that sensation feeling somehow -- better. His muscles were rock hard, a kind of power in his hips and ass that he'd never even imagined. He grinned up at Ma'ilele, and then thrust, snapping up off the ground, lifting the massive sahagin solely on his hips. He was aware of the weight -- Ma'ilele was not light, sitting right on his pelvis, but he was nowhere close to straining. Just tense; taut.

Nick flipped them over, Ma'ilele sprawled under him, and he just rutted against him, his cock -- the only human thing left on him -- slotted against his vent, coated in the glowing slime Ma'ilele was drooling alike from his cocks and vent. He groaned, drool spattering down across the sahagin's chest -- he really wasn't used to the tusks yet -- and hips snapping forward, grinding against the rasping barbs of Ma'ilele's cocks. The sahagin moved, shimmying down beneath him, until he was facing Nick's cock, tiny now given the inhuman bulk of both their bodies.

Ma'ilele blew on it, breath cool, lips just-barely touching the pale skin of his dick, and Nick groaned, the sound rumbling low and deep. The sahagin's hands were splayed over his hips, thumbs just under his balls, and Nick was frozen, looking down, staring as Ma'ilele opened wide, bifurcated snake tongue flicking out and dragging all the way down the length of his cock, practically enveloping it in the groove down the center. Nick groaned, already just a hair away from coming, eyes wide as he stared.

The forked tip of Ma'ilele's tongue flicked against his balls, and they throbbed, the sensation so sharp he couldn't tell if it felt good or bad or what: just sensation, pressure, so strong his eyes rolled back in his skull, whimpering as heat throbbed down his body, slamming into his balls. The dense flesh bulged and swelled, growing larger against the curve of Ma'ilele's lower lip. His skin changing almost tickled, a prickling ring spreading up his shaft, buzzing around his cockhead, and that was definitely pleasure. Between the coils of Ma'ilele's tongue he could see the darker skin of his shaft: a rich, heavy emerald, straining more and more. The tip of his cock, slipping across the sahagin's thin lips, emerged tinged green-gold. Nick groaned, aware of the spatter of drool spilling down his chest; he absent-mindedly wiped it with the back of his hand, fixated on Ma'ilele between his thighs.

His balls throbbed, their weight just growing and growing. They spilled from Ma'ilele's mouth, tacky with spit, shifting to rest against his thighs, dense and heavy. They pulsed again, growing faster. The heavy, supple flesh of his sac strained, barely keeping pace, his balls drawn up tight under his cock simply because there was no other place to go. His sac was a single straining bulge, the flesh inside swelling like a water balloon inflating, only twice as heavy. Blond hair fuzzed over his balls with more hot pinpricks, spreading as his flesh expanded until it was nearly a layer of fur, a thick forest of blond hair coating his balls and inner thighs, meeting the rough thatch across his stomach.

His balls filled the space between his thighs, his sac draping in slick, sweaty folds. They were grotesquely oversized compared to his cock, and they only kept growing. Each pulse wracked his entire body, a throbbing squeeze that seemed to gather up blood and force it down between his legs, hitting his balls with a prolonged impact, or like the coiling pulse just before he'd come: heat and energy soaking into them with a rush that had his toes clenching, fingers digging into Ma'ilele's shoulders. His balls rippled larger, creeping up his inner thighs, digging against Ma'ilele's inhuman jaw. Each pulse gained them layers, growing from apple-sized, to huge, lopsided beans, to the size of Nick's newly-enormous hands, and even larger, pratically the size of his head, where even Ma'ilele's long, webbed fingers couldn't easily hold one of them. They hit the carpet with a frission of heat, solidly as thick as his thighs and still throbbing outward, gravity itself squeezing them, bottoms flattening where they were pressed against the floor.

His cock, comparatively, was a tiny nub, hardly the size of one of Nick's thumbs, almost completely buried in the heavy folds of his balls, with only the greenish-brown tip jutting out, like the knob of a clit. Ma'ilele's tongue slid around it, drooling all over his skin, rasping on the fuzzy fur across his balls. The throbs of growth didn't stop, they just shifted: the next rush slammed into his cock just as much as his balls, and Nick yowled, the noise guttural and low. His cock throbbed, swelling against Ma'ilele's tongue, that single pulse adding inches. The line of his urethra bulged, a fat flange nearly half again the size as the rest of his shaft, and his cockslit gaped, slick pre bubbling up. The next pulse had him almost crying, cockhead swelling, the thick chambers on either side of his cock flooding wider. His flesh creaked like leather, sloppy and wet, and Ma'ilele drew back with a pop, leaving his cock bobbing in the air, almost steaming. His slit was gaping wide, pre burbling up, and Ma'ilele lapped around the flange of his cockhead, along the underside where there was new flesh growing: a thick, stretchy ribbon down the underside of his cockhead, connecting to the rolls of flesh gathering on his shaft; his regrowing foreskin. The sensation of Ma'ilele's tongue lapping against his new frenulum was almost too much -- his vision whited out, a cracked cry pouring from his mouth, and he just arched up, whining and panting, drooling all down his jaw as Ma'ilele slobbered along his cockhead.

Nick groaned, body splayed out on the ground, Ma'ilele bobbing between his legs, his head practically cradled between Nick's oversized balls. His cock stretched inside the sahagin's mouth, tip pushing deeper and deeper, flaring wider, and Nick arched up, burying his cock to the root in Ma'ilele's mouth. His fuzzy pubes ground around Ma'ilele's lips. He was still pushing deeper: the growth butted his cockhead against the back of Ma'ilele's throat. Ma'ilele swallowed, Adam's apple rolling against his balls, and his cockhead sunk into his throat, wrapped in wet, coaxing muscles. Each pulse made it tighter, the flesh of his cock bloating, the chambers of his shaft distending into fat ovals, the crest of his cockhead turning into a thick ridge, flaring out in a bloated mushroom-cap head, all of it pulling Ma'ilele's throat tighter around his cock. The sahagin bobbed up and down, slurping, and each time he drew back the root of his cock was visibly thicker. His cockhead sunk ever-deeper down his throat, spit and pre forming a slobbery plug that squelched back and forth, spattering across the chiseled muscles of Nick's stomach when Ma'ilele swallowed. His cock bloated, so thick that Ma'ilele's throat started to distend, forming a wide bulge down his neck, the tip shifting back and forth until his cock simply grew so large the head was lodged at the base of his throat, wetly popping under Ma'ilele's collarbone.

Nick whined, hips thrusting, amazed at first by the sheer power in his body; his hips jerked forward to slap the muscled arch of his pelvis against Ma'ilele's gaping mouth, cock sunk deep in his chest, and then he pulled back: sloppily fucking Ma'ilele's mouth until he was just on the edge of coming, frissions of heat collecting all down the still-growing length of his cock. Ma'ilele pulled back, mouth yawning wide as he spat out all of Nick's cock, and -- even having felt it bore down deep into Ma'ilele's throat, once it was all in the open it was impossible to believe that that thing was attached to him. It burst from Ma'ilele's throat, inch after inch of thick shaft, all glistening with slobber and his own pre, painting his skin shiny. It was close to being forearm thick -- his new forearms, an enormous block of iron-hard muscle; not the thin sticks he'd had. The ridge of his cockhead built up a thick plug of slime, Ma'ilele coughing out clots when his cockhead erupted from the back of his throat, spluttering mouthfuls of ooze across the arch of his pelvis, painting his blond fuzz flat against the muscle. His cock arched up, still flexible, wobbling and ticking in the air, glistening and dripping, and again he felt some new, powerful muscle contract under his stomach, sending the entire pillar of his cock swinging up, splattering down the center of his chest, spit and pre erupting in all directions. Nick flexed his pecs, staring down -- his chin just-barely pressing against his cockhead, nestled tight between his pecs. His hips jerked, fucking an inch of his slick, slobbery cock up through his pecs, and then back, fleshy foreskin rolling back over the golden-green head, burying it in rich emerald flesh. Ma'ilele chuckled, voice still a little hoarse, as he watched Nick stare down at himself, slowly fucking his cock through his pecs, hips rolling up against the increasingly dingy dorm carpet.

"I guess this is how big it was in-game," Ma'ilele said, wiping his maw with the back of one hand, spitting trails of slime out onto his already-soaked forearm. He sat up, huge hands wrapping around Nick's shaft, somewhere in the vast span between his crotch and his chest. "But let's be honest, it's only this big because there weren't any options to make it bigger, right?"

That thought alone was enough to send a bolt of pleasure down Nick's cock, the twitch running through it like a proper muscle, the cockhead flaring out against the pressure of his pecs. "Please," he said, or maybe he just thought it really hard. Ma'ilele stroked him off, webbed hands streaming with slime as he pumped up and down, and Nick just watched, wide-eyed. The irregular slope of his cock swelled even further, first a long vein running up his length, like a snake, and then more: branching out in thick squiggles, until he was painted with fat, finger-thick veins down the side. All the while, his cock simply grew, pressure building inside and bloating it fatter. It distended as it grew, flesh too large to keep its old shape. The already-enormous shaft bulged out most of the way up, thickening into a wide oval, only stuck back into shape just under the cap of his cockhead. His pecs spread, shaft thicker and thicker, cockhead more and more massive, until even the two huge slabs of muscle weren't enough to contain it. Rolls of foreskin smeared between his pecs, shaft inching forward until it was solidly pressed against his chin -- filling the entire space under his neck -- and then further, the shaft bowing until he tugged it up, the entire shape bending in an arc before it burst out from under his chin, wobbling, and came to rest with a meaty thwack against his face, like getting punched. It was a third leg; the shaft the size of one of his thighs, and it only grew fatter near the tip, where the head itself was -- well, head-sized. His cockslit gaped, easily the size of his mouth, watery precome slopping out in waves, slowly painting Nick's face. His stubble rasped against the sensitive flesh, near-painful, and he opened his mouth to groan and got a mouthful of pre, gurgling and sputtering.

Ma'ilele mumbled something from the vicinity of Nick's balls, and he had to crane himself up to even see over the mass of his cock, piled on top of his pecs. Webbed fingers slid up his thigh, in the sweaty, slick space between his balls, and then beneath him, up the crack of his ass to press against his hole. It was the same thing as everywhere else: he could feel his asshole throb, heat pooling inside him, and he was suddenly aware of his asshole as a muscle, a huge ring that clenched and opened. Ma'ilele was almost buried under him: Nick's legs up in the air, titanic balls draped over one shoulder, spanning over the crystal clusters down his back. His dorsal fin scythed up between Nick's thigh and balls; that was the only part of his head visible.

Ma'ilele's thick, heavy fingers pressed between his muscled ass cheeks. He slid across Nick's ring, the muscle thick and flexible. It opened, or Nick opened it, when he circled in tight, digging into the very center of his pucker. He dug inside, and Nick groaned. He'd never -- well, no, that was a lie. He'd tried to finger himself in the shower a few times, and once he'd even used an old toothbrush. It had never seemed that great. But now Ma'ilele's fingers -- all of them, web thick and rubbery between them -- sunk inside him, and his asshole spread, Nick flexing it open until it practically gaped. Ma'ilele's broad fingertips crashed against something inside him -- his prostate, he knew. Fingertips pushed down, squeezing it through the wall of his ass, and Nick groaned, a rush of heat flooding through him, seemingly gushing up the entire length of his cock, taking entire seconds before it reached the tip.

"I'm thinking we can make a few more changes," Ma'ilele said, voice vibrating against his asscheek. His fingers jabbed hard into his prostate again, and it swelled. Like a balloon inflating inside him: dense, heavy flesh folding over itself, thickening. Inside, slick fluid secreted from growing glands, so much he could feel the wet heat flood through him, pulsing up like the bead on a rising thermometer. Like water gushing through a hose, he felt internal tubes snap open, flooded with fresh precome. His cockhead tensed, cockslit gaping open into a broad 'O', and then erupted, a bolt of precome shooting out with enough force to paint the wall and window behind him, droplets spraying everywhere on the rebound. A solid wave crashed into his face, shockingly hot and sweat-salty, pouring in slobbery waves down his jaw, pooling in the hollow of his neck. Ma'ilele jabbed at his prostate again, an audible squelch from inside him as another flood sprayed out, painting his face glossy, spilling over the sides of his body. Nick groaned, eyes squeezed tightly shut, slurping and slobbering on the curve of his monstrous cockhead as his prostate swelled, doubling and then doubling again. Normally you could hit it through the ass, he knew, but now it was so massive it was a huge, pulpy mess pressing against the wall of his ass, distending outward: a swell larger than Ma'ilele's fingers outstretched, constantly secreting more watery pre, gushing and spurting up his cock like a tapped well. It almost hurt, a wet pressure inside him like a full bladder; the very motions of his body seemed to mechanically wring out more pre, like a sodden sponge, sending it pulsing up his dick.

Ma'ilele pulled out of him with a slurp, his asshole rubber-banding closed, clenching tight. His balls crashed to the ground like boulders when Ma'ilele shouldered them off, rising up in front of him. His own cocks had been unattended, and they were coated in glowing blue pre, the shining fluid smeared across his stomach and thighs. Nick reached for him, around the tree-trunk of his cock, and pulled him up, until the sahagin was sitting on his balls like they were a bean-bag chair, his cocks spiky where they rubbed against the base of his shaft.

Ma'ilele leaned in, Nick's cock sandwiched between them, the head spurting across both their faces. He licked the underside of Nick's cock, forked tongue flitting over the rolls of his loose foreskin, up the tapering triangular flap of his wrist-thick frenulum, and a thundering eruption of pre rocked both of them, coating both their faces. It was shinier now, limned with a golden tinge, like he was spurting oil. "I got one more thing," Ma'ilele said, speaking with his mouth full, lips wrapped around his frenulum, tongue lashing up and down, sucking the fat roll of flesh into his mouth.

Nick barely had the presense of mind to go "Yeah?", just groaning the word out while he hunched up, fucking his cock between their lips, squinting with cords of pre drooling from his brows to his cheeks.

Ma'ilele spread his hands, like he was about to do a magic trick, and then reversed them, suddenly holding metal spheres between each set of fingers: six in all, each of them the size of an apple. "Orcs get piercings," he said, reaching up with his thumb to tweak the bull-ring through Nick's nose, and then across to -- oh, right, his character had ear piercings, and so now he did too. Two long barbells through the shell of one ear, and then clasped bangles in the lobe of the other. He hadn't even noticed, though the motion of Ma'ilele tugging on them sent bolts of pleasure through his already-overstimulated body. "So it's lore-appropriate to have some more," Ma'ilele said, fingers pressing the warm metal against his cockhead. "Here:" he said, and handed one of the metal balls to him. It was heavy, but not heavy enough to be metal all the way through, and perfectly spherical, slick and slippery -- though that was mostly because he was gushing pre, and they were both coated in it. But they didn't really look like any kind of piercing he'd ever seen before.

"What's it even for?"

Ma'ilele leered, shark grin wide. "I'll show you," he said, before pushing one of them inside his cock. Not down the slit: he pressed one against the side of his shaft, right under his cockhead, and his skin dimpled and then spread, an alien kind of stretch as it... sunk inside him, down under a few layers of flesh, growing over when Ma'ilele pulled back, until it was a half-sphere bulge on the underside of his cock. Ma'ilele did it again, and again, two directly on the left and right of his frenulum, the others in a loose ring under his cockhead, and his cock was so huge there was room for another six without any worry of them touching.

Nick was kind of dazed -- the balls warmed up fast, feverishly hot, and the pressure seemed to hit something down the very core of his cock, direct stimulation of something he'd only ever felt indirectly before. Ma'ilele's hands slid over them, more pressure, and he bellowed, the next arc of pre erupting and splattering against the ceiling, spraying into his hair like rain. The balls resonated, full of fluid, ringing inside him even after Ma'ilele pulled back. Nick just panted, lips spread around one of them, his moans sending it resonating again. Ma'ilele moved again, and Nick opened his eyes to see him procure a huge bronze bracelet, shaking it down off his forearm like it'd been there the entire time. Its gauge was easily the size of his wrist. Ma'ilele pressed it against Nick's cockslit, slowly spreading it wide as he worked the curved tip inside his dick, sinking down inside him until the tip was below the two points of pressure that were the beads, the curve digging sharp against the wall of his urethra. This time he was prepared for the slick, strange feeling of his flesh parting and rejoining as Ma'ilele gave him a truly enormous Prince Albert, the hoop so vast he could've worn it easily as a choker. Pre oozed out around it, more streaking down the underside of his shaft where the piercing exited, practically gushing. Ma'ilele pressed his face there, lapping around the tip as he screwed an enormous cap on the end, locking it in place.

Nick just lay back when Ma'ilele moved lower, pulling more barbells -- and it occurred to him that someone could legitimately use these barbells as weights, big and heavy enough to use as dumbbells -- from nowhere, slowly assembling a thick ladder down the underside of his cock: most of a handspan between each set, and the caps huge, heavy spheres, glossy with the mess of pre streaking down his shaft.

Nick's head swum, dazed. Ma'ilele's thick fingers slid over the sloppy mess of his cock, the bizarre stretch as he pushed each one through like a bolt being thrown open inside him. His cock bobbed lower, the weight when it smacked against his chest distinctly heavier. Nick tried to peer over the side of his cock: the underside was a solid line of bronze balls. Trying to count he lost track around eight, and then counted fourteen, and then tried again and counted twelve. His skin piled up on the sides of his piercings, even the fat caps nearly envelloped in the soft, dark flesh of his shaft. Ma'ilele stroked up and down, fingers caressing each fat bulb, tugging them lightly; tongue flitting out to coil around them, slobbering over the dark metal as he sucked them into his mouth, lips kissing the skin of his shaft. Each motion sent a bubbling current of heat through his cock, washing across him until he was dazed, just lying back with his legs spread, groaning as Ma'ilele lavished attention across his dick, gurgling under the flood of pre he was drooling across his own face.

Ma'ilele reached the tip, lips spread over the pearls, drooling over them before he pushed himself up just slightly more, tongue swiping through the layers of oily pre coating his cockhead before kissing Nick, mouth open, the curve of his cock butting against both their lips.

He pulled back, standing, and Nick groaned, reaching out to pull him back, and stuttering to a stop when he saw just what Ma'ilele was doing. His cocks had been drooling all over the place, thick glowing slime, and it'd poured down his thighs, absolutely coating the underside of his tail. At the junction where his tail met his hips, under his vent and the final tapering curve of his hip muscles -- his asshole was flushed a vivid blue-purple, Ma'ilele's fingers shoved inside himself, the muscle spread to gaping, revealing brilliantly purple inner flesh, all slick with his own pre.

"What d'ya think?" Ma'ilele said, fingers squelching as he fucked himself, blue slime streaking from his vent down into his spread asshole, building up around his knuckles. He pulled Nick's cock back fractionally, straddled it like a barstool: the comparison was absurd, even on his massive frame. Nick just stared, thinking only of the hot, slick slide of Ma'ilele's hide against the curve of his cockhead, his Prince Albert shifting side-to-side as they moved against each other. He gushed oily precome, flooding Ma'ilele's spread-open asshole, less a spurt than the start of a constant hose, washing out slimy blue pre with his own.

Ma'ilele straddled his cock more solidly, pushing down, and used his hand to slot the gargantuan cuve of Nick's cock in place, straining against the gape of his asshole. Nick just groaned, throwing his head to the side and then covering his eyes with his forearm: like even looking at the scene would be enough to get him off. He wasn't prepared for the sensation: Ma'ilele's asshole clenching and then flowering, pressure shifting his piercing, and then hot flesh spreading across the dome of his cockhead. It was completely beyond reason, Ma'ilele stretching and stretching without a single sign of complaint, just hissing and groaning as he sunk himself straight down on that impossibly-huge cock. Heavy, hot flesh coiled over the ridge of his cockhead, swallowing him up with a squelch, then there was a tight band of pressure ringing the pearls, so sudden and unexpected that Nick just whined, voice cracking, gasping. His cock kicked, the force enough to send Ma'ilele staggering forward, and the next eruption of pre blasted inside him, gurgling around his cockhead as a heavy weight before it cracked the loose seal around him, pouring around his shaft in sheets. Nick groaned again and thrust, not even thinking, and the clenching vise around his cock slipped down, slurping and gurgling as he buried most of his cock in a single thrust, fat barbell after barbell popping into Ma'ilele in a cacaphony of squelches.

He cracked an eye open, just to make sure he hadn't just killed him -- and Ma'ilele was squatting over him, eyes shut, mouth hanging open, twin lines of glowing blue precome splattered up Nick's hips and chest, slowly smearing into the mess of his own pre coating his skin. His stomach was stretched, pushed into a thick gut -- like his entire body was padding around Nick's cock. But he looked fine, for someone who had a cock shoved inside him up past his ribcage. He groaned, slowly squatting lower, and the final four rows of barbells popped into him: the flesh of his gaping asshole catching on them, straining, and then sucking them in with a jolt, one after the other. His cocks twitched again, spurting pre in two ropes that arched through the air and splashed down across Nick's chest, the bolts hitting him in both shoulders, coming down with a series of wet splats; his entire body convulsed around Nick's cock when he bottomed out, hips hitting Nick's with a slap. The head should've been nearly lodged in his throat, even on his gigantic frame, but he looked fine. Dazed, when his eyes opened, their glowing haze thinned until Nick could see his slitted pupils, blown wide. He rocked back and forth, the distended bulge of his stomach shifting, and he reached down with his glitched arm to stroke his cocks, gathering them both together to pump at once.

Nick reached out, his own huge mitts wrapping around Ma'ilele shafts, pumping them. Ma'ilele grunted, thrusting through his hands, riding Nick's cock in time with his thrusts. His stomach bulged and relaxed minutely, swollen with cock flesh, as he rocked back and forth, hands wrapped around Nick's calves, guttural grunts and groans bursting from his throat. Nick's hands were coated in slime, glowing brilliantly, smoothing the crackle of Ma'ilele's shafts. All his spines were fully engorged, bristling like finger-thick -- for a normal-sized person; not at all either of them -- spikes down his shaft, sliding smooth when he thrust up only to flare out, bend and flex when he jerked back. Blue slime squirted from between Nick's fingers as he pumped, fat dollops soaking into the carpet.

Ma'ilele was panting, fucking himself eagerly on the final foot or so of Nick's cock, thighs pushing up just enough for two of the fat piercings to pop out of his gaping ass, then slamming back down with enough force to rattle the walls, stomach bloating again, his entire body spasming from the impact, again and again until he was keening, a sharp high note ripping its way out of his throat, warbling and rising with each thrust.

Finally it crested, a kind of keening yell bursting out of him when he bottomed out. His entire body rippled around Nick's cock, asshole clenching, higher passages slurping against his shaft, smooth muscle contracting and writhing up and up and up, punctuated by sudden heavy bands of flesh, like second, third, forth assholes clenching around his cock, the slide of his cock working against each one another note of pleasure to the cacophony overwhelming his senses. Ma'ilele's cocks, steaming in Nick's grasp, went tense, the flood of glowing blue slime interrupted by sudden pulses, jerking like joystick feedback in Nick's fists, and a solid spray of dark purple come shot out, splattering up Nick's chest, droplets spraying his face, dappling the sheeting slime drooling down the window behind them; they got absolutely everywhere. His body clenched again, groaning, and his cocks pulsed, the second shot just as strong. He came in waves, strange black-threaded come shooting up Nick's chest and slowly flooding down in sticky piles, dark beads spattering his cheeks, spraying up the wall and pouring down the back of his head as Ma'ilele came, body seizing and writhing on Nick's cock.

There were nearly a dozen shots before Ma'ilele stopped, the last few just a burble of tarry slime, completely coating Nick's forearms. Even after that he was still euphoric, body shuddering, mouth open, panting and groaning as he shuddered around Nick's cock, his cocks still kicking in Nick's hands, just pumping from an empty well.

Before Ma'ilele had even touched him, Nick had been achingly hard, each touch like steam, soaking into him, showing him a new way his body could feel good. Ma'ilele's knees were spread around his waist, the long sweep of his ankles and feet pressed against his gargantuan balls, spasmodically clenching against folds of his heavy, fleshy sac, tugging his balls forward. He was so close, cockhead popping back and forth through a tight, hungry mouth high up in Ma'ilele's chest -- he wasn't even thinking consciously, just rutting into each of Ma'ilele's thrusts, smacking his hips against his impossibly-gaping asshole, entire mind focused on the burn roaring through his cock.

A noise formed slowly in his chest, a deep growl that resonated, rumbling up through his body, louder and louder as he rutted into Ma'ilele's convulsing body. By the time his orgasm was tapering off Nick was riding the razor's edge, snarling with each thrust. He slammed inside, drew back, slammed in again, and the noise tore from his throat as a roar, rattling the walls as he tipped over the edge. The tight bands of Ma'ilele's guts were grasping around his cock, a fat, rubbery mouth so high up it latched around his cockhead, squeezing against the bloated tether of his frenulum with each thrust, and Nick whited out, focusing only on that pressure, the underside of his cockhead dragging over the tense, trembling muscle deep inside Ma'ilele. His cockhead pulsed, thicker ooze drooling down the flare of his cockhead, taut like a drum, and Nick worked his cockhead back and forth, the final few inches of his shaft slurping back and forth around Ma'ilele's broken-wide asshole. There was a surging pressure, hot like a hose opened inside him. The winding pressure of sperm spraying up from his balls, winding through the labyrinth of tubes bloating his sac, nearly hurt. The stuff was tar-thick, moving in sluggish pulses. His prostate spasmed, squirting more and more pre, flooding in quarts and then gallons into Ma'ilele, until finally the gummy mass of his sperm hit some connecting point, smearing with the pre into proper come and fountaining up his shaft. His load was so thick the gummy mass of sperm was tethered together, solid ropes of it surrounded by the mess of his pre, and each time he shot the pressure pulled more out, like a solid line hooked all the way through his cock, winding down his shaft all the way to his balls -- every single pulse like someone grabbing that tether and pulling, yanking feets worth of slobbery, gummy come straight from his balls.

Nick just whined, roaring and thrashing, hips pumping wholly automatically. He drooled, froth bubbling up around his lips as he tried to breathe, breath rattling and heavy, matched only by the obscene squelch of his cock slamming against Ma'ilele's swollen asshole, by the churning gurgle as he dumped shot after shot of come slurry deep into Ma'ilele's body. Wet heat bubbled around his cockhead, squelching as he thrust inside, his thrusts churning up the mess of his load into a thick, slimy ooze. Fat streamers of come drooled down his shaft, like a tiered fountain, increasing pools of his load pouring down, sloshing and gurgling, until they burst from Ma'ilele's asshole, jizz erupting from around his cock, opaque white and golden-shiny, like runny molasses. Ooze squelched between them when he bottomed out, and pulling out it stretched into taffy-like cords, webbed all across their hips and thighs, drooling down Ma'ilele's tail.

Nick just kept thrusting, what little conscious thought he could manage just a dim thread of wow, I never used to come like this; that little whisper drowned in the flood of sensation pouring into him, the increasingly-sloppy slide of Ma'ilele's flesh around his cock, the near-painful lurch of each pulse, again and again until he was just a machine, drooling and thrusting, his cock kicking with each glorp of his load oozing out, huge pearls of come burbling out from Ma'ilele's overfilled ass. He was thrusting into a churning ocean, the sheer volume of his load bloating Ma'ilele's guts so wide they didn't even touch his shaft. His stomach was swollen, heavier and heavier, his hide creaking as his guts were flooded, folding over itself in a huge, wobbling belly, the underside shiny with Nick's come, squelching between them as the distended mass of his stomach pressed against Nick's chiseled abs. Nick's entire body was locked in orgasm, each of his muscles flexing, clenched hard as he thrust again and again, driving his cock into Ma'ilele's gaping ass.

He might have blacked out, or had part of his brain shut down: there was a dizzy span of time where he was only aware of the kick of his cock, the increasing weight of Ma'ilele's body on top of him, his bloated gut sloshing. The sahagin leaned forward, gut rolling over his twin shafts, flattening them between their bodies: the rippling, distended flesh of his stomach a weight all across Nick's stomach, the pressure like being immersed in water.

At some point he had to have stopped coming, but he just remembered being a little more cognizant, arms wrapped around Ma'ilele's body, slowly peeling them apart. Thick, white come was flooding out around his softening shaft, gurgling and squirting with each barbell that popped out. Even softening his shaft was enormous, pulling out with an eruption that painted nearly every surface in the dorm, a waterfall of come pouring from Ma'ilele's ass and soaking the carpet. His foreskin couldn't quite reach over his Prince Albert, his skin gathering over the ring like a partly-hung tent, the opening a wide oval, tipped with one end of the ring. Come was drooling out from the inside, huge white slugs of slimy fluid tethered between his dick and Ma'ilele's wrecked ass. Nick shifted, cock beginning a slow, weighty arc that ended with a near-painful impact across his stomach, and that just pulled out the strands like taffy, slowly drooping down to smear across his hip and thigh.

Ma'ilele meshed his fingers together and stretched, joints up and down his body popping. "That was pretty good," he said, settling back against Nick's side, his stomach audibly gurgling and sloshing from the movement. He was still leaking come like a broken keg, the swampy mess lapping at their sides as it washed out across the now-ruined carpet.

Nick was only halfway there, body still rushing with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He nodded, or grunted assent, something like that. Probably. He reached for Ma'ilele, arms wrapping around his shoulders, and let the heavy ripples of pleasure carry him down into sleep.


The woke up when the dorm door crashed open. Nick jerked up with a snort, drool spilling down his chin, and squinted at the door. Probably Brad was there, blanching at the sight. At the sight, which -- Ma'ilele stirred next to him, considerably less... inflated than he'd been. Nick looked back and forth, mouth hanging open, not sure where to even start.

"Dude," Probably Brad said. "No way you got laid before I did. But c'mon, at least put a sock on the door."

"Huh?" Nick said, intelligently.

Ma'ilele stretched again and sat up, blinking awake. Now that Nick was a little more awake, the room definitely looked... cleaner. Than they left it. It still stunk of sex, but the walls weren't soaked with come, and the carpet under him was crushed but otherwise clean, not the swampy mess it'd been. Also, they had the sheet from his bed draped over them, which in their current state (and size) was barely enough to keep Nick's dick covered. "I'm his boyfriend," Ma'ilele said, slowly slouching to his feet, swiping a blanket from his bed to wrap as an impromptu skirt around his waist. "Ma'ilele," Ma'ilele said, and wow, Nick really had been butchering it.

Probably Brad clasped forearms with Ma'ilele, most of his lower arm swallowed up by Ma'ilele's massive mitt. "Cool," he said, with a little grin, seeming off-footed but only up to walking in on some nearly-naked guys; not really the level of disbelief that them being a gigantic orc and sahagin monster entailed. "I'm Chad." Right, Chad.

"Sorry we had to meet like this," Ma'ilele said with a grin. "Next time we'll crash at my room."

"Nah, it's cool, I was just gonna drop off some stuff; I got some friends waiting out front." Chad finally stepped inside, rummanging through the boxes of stuff he had yet to unpack. Nick squinted at the clock: it was around three-thirty in the morning. "Gonna go to the diner. You could come with, if y'want?"

Ma'ilele looked over at Nick with a leer that even Chad picked up on. "You wanna?"

Nick blinked, looking back and forth between the two. "Uh, sure...?" he said, after an awkward pause.

"Uh, give us a minute to get dressed," Ma'ilele said, and Chad nodded and stepped back.

"What the hell was that?" Nick said the second they closed the door. He couldn't even work up the intonation to sound surprised.

"What, you don't wanna go to the diner?"

"No, I mean--"

"Figured we could spare him an eyeful." Ma'ilele shrugged. "Plus, as much fun as that was, don't think I wanna spend the next day waddling around leaking your load." He was pulling clothes out of nothing, some kind of skirt and robe Nick vaguely recognized from in-game. "You should get dressed too, y'know."

"With what?" Nick gestured down at himself. "None of my clothes are gonna fit."

"Oh ye of little faith," Ma'ilele said, pulling open Nick's dresser drawer with a flourish. "I think I deserve credit for not giving you better fashion sense when I gave you your new body."

Nick got up -- staggering for a second from the sheer weight of his cock, like a boulder tied between his legs -- and picked up a piece of red fabric that could double as a tent. He flipped it around: "Oh, hey, this is my Keep Calm and Carry On shirt!" He dragged it up over his head, and when he pulled it down it was nearly skintight: every defined curve of his chest on display, his pierced -- pierced? apparently -- nipples bulging the fabric, fat as a thumb. He started shuffling through the drawers, picking out clothes, all matching his new body.

"But no, I meant the--" Nick lisped, tongue slipping under his teeth and basically blew a raspberry against his tusks, drool spilling down his chin. He dropped his clothes and caught the strand midair. "Wow, I'm really not used to these tusks. These. Theeese. These." He reached up, tugging on his lower lip, screwing up his face as he ran his tongue along the outer curve of his jaw, between his tusks and lips. "The part where this is totally normal." He gestured down at himself: gigantic, orcish, his soft cock mounding over his balls, both of them hanging down to his knees. He hadn't found underwear yet. He wasn't sure they could help.

Ma'ilele dressed, pulling from nowhere a bunch of clothes: wrapping his stomach in bandages, wrists and forearms too, and then pulling on some tight, stretchy trunks, like swimwear, with ovals cut in the sides to let the crystals across his outer thighs out. On top of that, something like chaps, dyed vivid purple and red, and on top of that a half-skirt from something like reed cloth, green-brown and in rectangular layers -- something that, in short, would've looked completely normal in a fantasy video game but looked like someone's surreal fashion project in person. "Figured I'd spare you the consequences of your actions, too. Orcs are totally normal. 'Oh wow,' he'd go. 'There weren't any sahagin where I grew up; I guess that's more of a coastal thing?'" he said, while dressing.

"You can do that?" Nick had found his boxers, but it was completely unclear how he'd actually put them on. Even with the extra fabric in front there was no way they'd stretch over his dick.

"Well, yeah." Ma'ilele flicked his fingers, voxel sparks erupting like cheap CGI. "Magic."

"Magic exists?"

Ma'ilele looked over, his gaze lingering palpably over Nick's fresh new body. Even through the corrupted haze fuming from his eyes Nick could tell he was rolling them. "Yes. Magic exists."

"That's video game stuff though. Not real."

"Evidence would suggest the contrary! And honestly, wouldn't that be better? Magic spells, superhuman feats of strength, bursts of power and light exploding out of you whenever you learn something -- plus, hot orcs." He slapped Nick's ass, the crack so sudden Nick yelped, flushing. Ma'ilele leaned in. "Want me to help with that?" he said, fingers trailing across Nick's underwear, lifting them from his hands. "Sit back."

Nick sat on the edge of his bunkbed, having to lean forward to come even close to being able to fit under the upper bunk. It creaked, sharp cracking noises coming from the corners, but it didn't collapse. Ma'ilele knelt in front of him, lifting his feet to pull the hem of his underwear up. He was on face level with Nick's dick. His breath wafted out, hot and humid, and the ratcheting pulse through his cock made the entire thing lurch, barbells clacking against each other as it swung to rest against his other thigh. Nick whined, high in his throat.

"I'm just saying, a magical world is pretty nice for everyone. Even if it doesn't really help it's still got... panache."

"You sound like you're trying to convince me." Nick's voice wobbled, Ma'ilele pulling his boxers up his thighs, the waistband still trapped under his balls. He reached under and pulled, the material just-barely stretching enough to fit over their absurdly huge swell, clinging skin-tight to the curve of his cock. Ma'ilele exhaled against his cock again, snout almost pressed against his stomach, and his entire cock lurched, threads snapping alarmingly. A pulse of pre shot up, like hot syrup coating the inner flesh of his stretched-out foreskin, only slowly trickling out and soaking into the brilliant yellow Batman logo stretched right across his crotch.

"Keep that up and we'll never get out of here," Ma'ilele said, grinning up at him.

That sharktooth grin that close to his dick should've been a little frightening, but all Nick could think about was the way it'd felt with his cockhead lodged down in his chest, the tight, sucking squelch as he'd fucked his throat. His cock twitched again. "Uh--" he said, fully intending to say "who cares about Chad, let's just fuck again," except Ma'ilele interrupted him.

"I'm not really trying to_convince_ you as, well, giving you my itenerary. You would not believe how annoying it is to manifest, and now that I'm here you'd better believe I'm gonna get some work done. Spread around the power a little."

Maybe that should've been like cold water splashed on him: ominous implications, et cetera, but Ma'ilele was still on his knees in front of him, hands splayed on either side of the huge, bloated swell that was his cock and balls. "Manifest?"

"Oh yeah." Ma'ilele got up, returned with some cargo shorts. "You dearly need better clothes by the way. So it turns out when you have a magical virus it kind of spreads a lot. Because of how there's no magical antivirus. And when your computer gets infected with a magical virus --"

"That game wasn't really real?" Nick hazarded a guess.

"Oh, no, it's totally real. It sold abysmally and I think the dev team all got fired. But. I think the original curse was just, like -- you know those douchebags on XBLA who call everyone fags when they get headshot?"

"Uh, sure."

"Turns out when you curse someone's game to have all the male characters hit on you incessantly, things kind of evolve weirdly when it hits the RPG genre. And so --" Ma'ilele gestured at himself with a flourish.

"So you're just -- a virus dressed up like a video game character?" It felt more than a little weird to be having this conversation, while Ma'ilele yanked his cargo shorts up over his bulge, each tug sending a frission of pleasure up his spine. He was pretty sure having your dick slowly crushed was probably supposed to be painful.

"Oh please, there's no just. And anyway, I'm your perfect boyfriend." He looked up, eyes fuming, the corrupted gibberish above his head flashing glyphs in red, shattered voxels weaving around his head, through his blackened coral horns, lips pulled back to show both rows of serrated shark teeth. "That's how it works."

"That's kind of creepy."

"Well, what can you do. C'mon, I think that's the best we're gonna get." Ma'ilele yanked him to his feet, and Nick yelped -- his balls were squashed up against his thighs, heartbeat pulsing through his dick not in a sexy way, just in the way that implied there wasn't really room for his blood vessels to expand. And even with all that -- well, he was somewhat decent. His shorts were tented like he'd shoved a sleeping bag or two in them, and the usually-baggy folds were tight and straining the seams. "No one will care. I mean, I could magic it up that no one will care if you walked around totally naked, but I figure you should at least make a token effort. And if it helps, I don't really care that much about being your perfect boyfriend." Ma'ilele stood up, gestured to the door. "I mean, I really liked your dick down my throat; I'll blow you later if you're up for it, but that can wait. Diner!"

"Yeah, diner." Nick said, and headed out.