Tidal Force
The first of hopefully many more stories I get to write involving some classic macro action. In this specific instance Yerkelayh the killer whale and his friend Virgil the spinner dolphin have their lives take a sudden and empowering turn.
Tidal Force
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TIDAL FORCE
by Iscin
This is a work of erotic fiction.
All characters portrayed within are 18 years of age or over.
Yerkelayh and Virgil Wilde © to Yerkelayh.
All rights reserved © 2015.
CHAPTER ONE
Impact
'I still don't know why Jack couldn't have driven you out here. He is your roommate!' Yerkelayh grunts behind the wheel of his car, shooting a look to his right at the smaller cetacean.
'He has a girlfriend now. Apparently he thought it would've been awkward. With him, his girl and me all in the same metal and plastic box on wheels.' Virgil responds whilst looking down at his phone.
Together the killer whale and spinner dolphin are heading out from the city to meet up with the rest of their football team at a place just on the edge of suburbs. It is quite a distance to go, but the truth is that for the weekend it is more for the sake of getting away from the city and spending time together as friends as opposed to practise; and that usually ends up with Virgil getting his flippers around one of the quarterback's not so gentlemanly parts. Although having started out as good friends, and fuck buddies, things have grown increasingly weird between Yerkelayh and Virgil. It might have something to do with the orca spending more time at his white collar job and less time with the boys and the none too subtle dolphin.
It will not be long now until they reach the leisure centre, so Yerkelayh decides to drop the subject by putting some music on. He reaches for his phone on the dashboard and opens the music app. Bluetooth already connected he quickly navigates to one of the more uplifting playlists in his library and hits the play button. However as the music begins to play it covers a different sound coming from outside the vehicle and up above. Oblivious to what is above him Yerkelayh keeps on driving straight along the mostly clear road. That is until he starts to notice an out of place orange light reflecting down on to the bonnet of the car and into the windshield. But it's still noon. Driver and passenger alike think as the light blooms, growing brighter as if turning the road and landscape around them into a reflectively radioactive scene.
Both aquatic mammals lean forward and strain their necks looking up to try and see where the orange glow is coming from. What they gaze upon strikes at their inner sense of awe as a bright fireball plummets down from the heavens, replete with a long tail of fire as if scarring the very sky itself. Is that a meteor? Yerkelayh thinks before being reminded that he is the one driving as the car veers onto the rough at the side of the road and the vehicle's suspensions are put to the test. He curses and tries to get the car back on the asphalt. But whilst the orca is focused on the road he is now oblivious to the meteor's trajectory as it inclines down, barreling down on the field next to them.
Virgil tries to get his friend's attention of course, but before Yerkelayh realises what is happening an almighty shockwave hits the car from the driver side. Glass shatters, both cetacean's have their heads ringing and the airbags deploy forcing the orca's hands off of the wheel and his feet are not doing any better keeping themselves on the pedals. With no one driving the car goes off the road again, this time diving into the cornfield at the side of the road, flattening a path through the crops until it gradually comes to a stop, the engine dying at the same time. For a moment everything its deathly still, the car, its occupants and the impact site of the meteor that has kicked up a significant cloud of debris from where it has landed.
'Yerk? Are you alright Yerk?' Virgil says after finally beating back the obstructive airbag.
There is no response from his friend and the spinner dolphin looks over to his left. The killer whale is passed out cold, something that the worried spinner dolphin quickly verifies by reaching over and checking for the pulse from his neck and the breathing from his blowhole. With no obvious bruising, at least on the outside, it looks to him as though Yerkelayh was just knocked out from shear inertia of his fat domed head driving into the cushion of air. Virgil sighs with palpable relief, thankful that he will not have to the bearer of bad news to his friend's family and relations. However there is still the matter of that tremendous explosion.
His body shaking from the aftershock of the impact, the dolphin opens the passenger side door before tumbling more than walking out. He makes it only a handful of steps before falling to his knees onto the soft, tilled soil of the crop field they ended up in. Get a hold of yourself. The cetacean affirms that everything is okay, at least everything immediate. No one is dead nor seriously injured. It was just a dramatic crash, that's all. But all he has to do is look up from the dirt and see the still expanding cloud of debris from the impact site and he realises just how close they were to a total wipeout. Where is a safety blanket when you need one?
Forcing himself to get back up on his feet, Virgil looks back at the car, before checking his pant pocket and procuring his cellphone. It survived the crash, but a cursory inspection indicates that there is no signal. They can not be that far from the city, so most likely the meteor impact has done something to the cell tower out here, maybe wrecking a buried cable or something. He curses at the inanimate object and pockets it again. Plenty of people will have noticed a meteor coming down and there will probably be emergency services, journalists and all sorts coming to gawk at the extraterrestrial object. So people will be on their way in either case.
I wonder what kind of meteor makes an impact as soft as that. The urge to investigate is a strong one for Virgil. But first he spends more than a minute trying to extract the big orca out of his own vehicle. Although not at all devoid of muscle the spinner dolphin does have some trouble before the unconscious whale is out on the ground outsider of the vehicle. He apologises to the unconscious man as he manipulates his torso and placement of limbs until the orca is in the recovery position, or at least as best as Virgil can remember how the position goes.
'Now you stay right there,' he tells the blacked out orca. 'I won't be long. Promise.'
***
He should not be here. That thought is the one that has been cycling over and over again as Virgil was making the short trek from the disabled car to where the meteor has come down. It has not been far though, having come down on the other side of the road, opposite the field that the car stalled in. As he enters the other immediate locale of the impact site Virgil notices that the crops appear to be peculiarly unscathed. Despite the loud bang there are not after effects of something like a Tunguska type blast or anything else of the sort. Virgil wishes that he possessed some sort of olfactory sense, because right now his eyes and hearing are not giving him much to go on as he approaches the meteor. Although the pillar of black smoke rising up above the field is hard to miss regardless.
So it turns out the spinner dolphin was much closer to the meteor than he had originally thought. Pushing past another flank of crops he makes an audible squeal of surprise as he beholds the impact site. Yellow, the extraterrestrial rock is yellow, or perhaps some shade of gold; sadly dolphins are not known for their acute vision. Through the now thinning smoke, he can also now see that the meteor is actually some kind of crystal. Or at least he thinks it is a crystal judging by the way that light is being reflected and, in fact, refracted through it though the smoke and distance is making it difficult for him to judge.
Altogether bewildered by his discovery, Virgil takes some cautious steps. As he scales the depression of the somewhat shallow crater he notices that the ground is only slightly warm. No glassing of soil has been made, and the smoke is only coming from the crops which the meteor has trampled upon, smouldering underneath it. The dolphin looks back and around him almost as if he is paranoid of someone finding him where he should not be. None of this makes sense in his admittedly layman's understanding of things like meteors and loud explosive sounds. In fact, he is now wondering if he ever woke up from that car crash. Could be some sort of dream or a test to gain entrance to the afterlife while his soul is in limbo? Such thoughts are not calming his racing heart.
Virgil gets down along the inclination where the meteor has impacted. The air here is anomalously humid yet cool. Even more oddly everything seems much calmer here, as though the very air itself is being stripped of all vibrations within tight proximity of the meteor. Merely seeing the mysterious object is not enough for the spinner dolphin. Seeing might be believing, but to touch something is to know it is real. As he extends one hand out there is a part of him, a feeble voice, warning him of contamination, of radiation, of who knows what could he be exposing to himself merely by being this close, let alone making physical contact with it. Of course, he ignores that voice as his fingers brush against the uneven surface of the extraterrestrial rock.
It is cool to the touch a lot like a pane of glass. Yet as his fingers linger something feels as though it is moving underneath them. A rapid and wet motion, like water running underneath his hand. Of course at the very moment his brain registers this, Virgil tries to pull his hand back. But it is fast stuck to the meteor. The previous sense of calm curiosity is shattered as Virgil battles with what feels like rapid ice burn. Oblivious to the fear of its molester, the meteor begins vibrating to shed particles of itself. These begin entering the dolphin's body via his hand. He knows something is happening, as a cold sharp pain begins travelling up along his arm, yet his hand is so firmly attached that he is beginning to believe that his skin is fused to it.
Desperation compels Virgil to bring one of his feet up, placing it against the rock he tries to push himself away from it. This risks tearing his skin away of course but as the odd painful sensation reaches his shoulder the situation seems to call for it. Unfortunately not matter how hard he pushes with his foot nothing comes loose. Virgil can feel his shoulder locking up now, so he jumps, balancing with his fluke tail, and brings both thankfully shoe wearing feet against the meteor. With all of his strength he tries to kick himself away and off the offending rock. But it is as though his hand and arm have become as solid as the meteor. Whatever is about to happen, it is beyond Virgil's power to stop.
CHAPTER TWO
Kaijucin'
Yerkelayh wakes up to a terrible sound. Getting up with a startled motion he audibly cries out as the bruising around his neck makes its existence known. The sound which he hears even now is of something immense, unnatural and creating a spitting headache for the orca as he gets to his feet with an uncertain wobbling. Even without any refined sense of hearing like many other non-aquatic mammals, it does not take the blackfish long to spot the source of the sound. What the fuck! Is that Virgil? Yerkelayh shakes his head and rubs his eyes, initially refusing to believe what they are telling him.
The spinner dolphin previously known as Virgil Wilde has grown by an incredible amount. Not only that, but he has undergone a myriad of changes starting with the profusion of spines along his back , beginning just underneath his blowhole, through to part of his torso now consisting of strange yellow tinge bone plates. There are other alterations too but Yerkelayh is hardly keeping track as he stares long and hard at what must be almost four hundred, maybe five hundred, feet of biology and physics defying cetacean. With each long, protracted footstep Virgil makes the ground shakes underfoot and as the giant dolphin opens his mouth Yerkelayh realises exactly where that sound that awoke him had come from.
Something catches the edge of orca's periphery vision and he realises that the emergency services and police have arrived. Or that they are at least approaching as fast as they can on the road. Virgil, or what was once Virgil, appears to be moving in their direction, or perhaps towards the city itself; of that Yerkelayh is uncertain. Even before anything disastrous has occurred the killer whale has the gut feeling that this situation is only going to escalate to the point of the national guard becoming involved. But provided he is not about to get squished or nuked there is something more important on Yerkelayh's mind right now. How the hell did he get those mad gains?
A stream of conscious clutter runs by in Yerkelayh's head as his eyes glaze over. It does not take a great deal of deduction to realise that the only logical explanation for this incredibly illogical thing booming off towards the city is that the meteor was somehow involved. Yerkelayh walks onto the road and looks down it to see the cavalcade of emergency services both confused and alarmed by the sight of the giant monstrous dolphin heading off towards the city. They are not his concern right now though as he notices the deep impressions in the ground from which Virgil had clearly been only a moment ago when the orca had been unconscious. This is insane. But where did that thing come down.
It does not take the killer whale long to find the site of the impact, although the smoke has mostly cleared now from the disturbance of a titanic aquatic mammal. Torn clothing lies over here and there, trampled or otherwise laying atop crushed crops. This confirms the epicentre of his friend's unreal transformation which leaves only one question for the orca. Is there any of that growth juice left for him? Yerkelayh is nothing if not one track minded as he steps closer to the meteor. Not that he is aware of it, but a good deal of the meteor's yellow crystal is missing, having been merged into what was once Virgil Wilde. However there is still plenty of the meteor that remains, begging for another thoughtless cetacean to get their hands on it.
Just like the dolphin before him only moments ago, Yerkelayh brings one open palm to the meteor. Of course unlike the dolphin, the orca has some inkling of what will become of him and the mere thought of it has a smile on his face from side to side. Not that he is presently prepared for the process as the pain begins, first from his finger tips, it starts travelling up along his arms just like it did with Virgil before. All too eager the orca places his other bare hand on the alien rock to join the first, a look of anticipation on his face as he feels the meteor's essence crawl up inside of him. No pain no gain.
What is transpiring under the surface of his skin could not be understood by conventional science even if there was a way for the orca to understand and know in realtime. The exotic and esoteric crystalline matter slowly enters the whale's bloodstream, seeps into his bone structure and begins transmogrifying the tissue that comprises his organs and muscles. All of this happens in a way that is both painful and invigorating. Yerkelayh can feel his heart racing ahead as if to help keep up the increased metabolic rate of his system as tissues multiply and build up. His muscles ripple underneath his skin before he suddenly burst out of his clothes and in the process loses his balance falling down on to his ass.
Torn fabric is quickly forgotten as the whale looks up at the sky and feels his body shooting upwards. From his spine to his leg bones, everything is growing and being readjusted as he bulks up, growing taller and wider with every passing second. The forces at work here are so incredible that they may as well be magic to him. But the changes are not merely ones pertaining to size, or the ability to function comfortably at his ever increasing height. Elements of the meteor are being incorporate into his flesh that fascinate more than alarm the orca. The first of these changes are a series of spikes, rising up out of his spine; each one possesses hints of the same yellow crystal, tipping off the boney structure.
Now around halfway into what will be his terminal size the orca's tail actually splits into two. He looks behind himself with some small strain in his neck and tentatively sends the nerve impulses to move his fluke. They are there, and oddly enough he knows how to move each one of them independently. Other features that change include the addition of strange boney plates along his pectorals and abdominal muscles. But the most erotic of his changes occurs in the last few moments of his growth. Is that what I think it is? Yerkelayh stares between his legs in amazement as, just as with his fluke tail, his now rather enormous whale dork has become two, along with four testicles dangling between his gigantic legs and sprawled out on the ground in his sitting position. Fucking ace!
Finally with the minimal amount of pain the killer whale's growth and transformation comes to a not so climatic end. Yerkelayh checks himself once more before he tries to get up onto his feet. The perspective of everything is jarring at first. The process has multiplied his proportional size and mass until he is around six hundred feet tall and who knows how heavy. Yet muscle density and bone density have been adjusted and augmented to compensate, leaving him, relatively, feeling much the same as before whilst moving his arms, legs and twin tails. However everything has so much more impact, from his first step to the swish of his flukes sending a miniature gale force wind in the opposite direction, flattening yet more of the surrounding crops.
'Okay then.' Yerkelayh says to himself whilst flexing his arms. Biceps the size of hillsides bulging out. 'I can work with this.'
CHAPTER THREE
Tide Cums In
This is amazing! Who knew being a monster was so much fun.
The same thought has been cyclicly repeating from the first moment that Virgil realised what happened to him. Quandaries over how he is going to eat, socialise or even sleep have not entered his head yet. Virgil is high, both literally and metaphorically, as he surveys the ant like people below him. He is being careful, for the moment at least, trying not to step on any crowds or cars, but there is only so much one giant can do it avoid causing a few casualties. As he wanders between the multi-story apartment blocks and office buildings he smiles whilst looking in at the little people behind the glass. It would take only a single push and he can bring any one of these buildings, no wonder why they all look so terrified. Not that he can see their faces at this scale of course, it is more the way they either stand still or run around, scrambling for the nearest exits or paths away from him.
Virgil can just picture the media now, and the legions of netizens sharing images of the gargantuan, and stark naked, monster spinner dolphin. He was never shy before about sharing nudes, or so much more for that matter. Truth be told having this kind of attention on him, what must be thousands of eyes in person, and many more via proxy, is beginning to turn the giant dolphin on. He should resist the impulse, of course, there is no telling what will happen once he gets aroused, but already the tip of his prehensile phallus is beginning to poke out from its slit. Unlike his orca friend the dolphin was born with strictly internal genitalia, which in the locker room had often been the cause of some comments of his androgynous body, but there was nothing so emasculated about the cetacean once aroused, as all these fine folks are about to discover.
With one hand moving to his crotch, the dolphin idly takes in the crowds, the excited and scared throng beneath and surrounding him. With one misstep he steps on a parked rig. The metal, glass and more being crushed beneath the sole of his bare foot hardly even registers to Virgil. Something he is quickly coming to understand bout his new self is a greatly heightened resilience to any form of injury or pain to match the augmentation of the other attributes. Speaking of which. His internal monologue comments as his sex serpent slither out of its hiding hole and into his fingers that curl around the throbbing, tapered todger.
The impulse is impossible to deny or postpone. Inexorably both of his hands gain a firm grip, one near the base, and the other around the midsection of his shaft. His flukes rise, causing incidental damage to a building behind him, only for him to back up and park his caboose in such a fashion as to be using the structure for support to lean back against. Those still caught down below are treated to a gentile outpouring of pre-ejaculate. So much so soon is not abnormal for the dolphin, even before his more virile form now. He does not even notice the unusual yellowish tinge around the edges of his erogenous flesh he already beginning to work his meat back and forth, from one end to the other.
Essences of both the fluid and airborne variety are quick to spread. Those within an impressive radius of the cetacean can smell or even taste him. And to those persons' horror they too find themselves aroused beyond any rationale to self-discipline. The effect is so powerful that even those who nominally consider themselves possessing low or even non-existent libidos are growing hot under the collar. The dolphin's body shivers and shakes, his spines and twin tails wriggling this way and that as he cloys as his flesh at an ever increasing speed. Mayhem that is ensuring are of no concerns or even register for Virgil as he works himself up to the zenith of his ability to self-stimulate. A coil inside of him wound to a high degree, ready to be triggered with no small amount of force.
It is at this crucial moment. Teetering on the edge of something desired by one and feared by many that a third-hand finds itself around the turgid head of Virgil's cock. The dolphin's eyes open wide, his brain struggling to rationalise what he is seeing even as the spring is let go. Even for a cetacean of an average and normal size, their ejaculations are famous for their force and ability to project; an evolutionary adaptation for insemination underwater. However, at this scale and augmented by an alien biology Virgil Wilde's orgasm is nothing short of volcanic. His guttural cries of joy that shake glass and rebar-concrete is but a taste of the destructive power that now begins jetting out from the tip of his shaft. Each shoot that flies unobstructed reaches one building, drills right on through as if it were tissue paper, and carries on to the next and the next.
His counterpart here in the form of the similarly transformed orca is the only one to spare the citizens from more terror as he inclines the dolphin's spasming dick upwards and tries to bring his other hand around to buffet the eruption. It is a mess as wads of spunk at grotesque proportions begin washing over the streets. Some of them making the round trip from shot straight up and now coming down at an angle, or those being deflected back down near the dolphin's feet as Yerkelayh tries to get a handle on his friend's wild climax. Virgil is aware of this much at least, but there is very little room inside of his head to really care as his hands fall back to brace against the slowly caving building behind him and he allows the orca to finish him off.
***
The streets are now sullen. Half a dozen buildings are compromised though still standing in spite of the abuse. And Yerkelayh is stuck with his own rising naga beast, one that is even more threatening in shear size than the dolphin. Virgil is beginning to come around from his violent orgasm. It turns out that the experience is something totally different from what he knew before at a far more manageable size. His body wants to fold back, in contended post-coital bliss. However such a thing is not what the orca is about to allow. As Yerkelayh gets both of his hands around the dolphin, Virgil is not prepared for what is about to be done to him, in front of countless watching eyes and cameras.
'Come here!' The orca grunts whilst pulling the dolphin away from where he was growing increasingly supine on the crumbling artifice beneath him.
'How did...' Virgil begins to ask before receiving the grandest slap across the face he has ever experienced. The impact of which is so phenomenal that it sends a shockwave throughout the city.
'You require a disciplining.' Yerkelayh says with as firm an expression as he can muster, given the circumstances.
Virgil's face is now introduced to a conveniently close skyscraper. Glass, concrete and metal is ground to a fine cloud of debris that begins making the long descend down, but none of it wounds him beyond some mild scuffing. However as he adjusts beneath the firm hold of the larger giant, the dolphin becomes aware of something other than muscle and bone plated chest pressing down upon him from behind. The dolphin makes a sound which from his scale is not unlike a bitch eager for her dog's fat bone to be slide up inside of her wet and dark love tunnel; although from the perspective of the cities denizens it is more like the unnaturally deep cry of a monstrous ogre lifted straight out of some child's vivid nightmare.
One giant's fingers grip tight around the waist of the other, whilst his partner braces himself against the slowly compromising building before him, dick rising up once more, this time pushing up from floor to floor, razing office space after office space. Yerkelayh grinds only the one enraged male organ against his wayward friend's ass, allowing him to grow comfortable with its precedes as his pre-ejaculate lubricates down the crack before splashing down onto the ground below. He does this for a good minute or so before now introducing the second throbbing whale dick, squeezing both side by side between Virgil's wet buttocks. The dolphin makes another needy sound, his back arching as his twin flukes twitch overhead, sending powerful gusts overhead and threatening the flight path of news helicopters and more.
'How did you get two?' Virgil asks, his face flushed red against the rooftop of the building he is braced against.
'Better genetics I guess.' Yerkelayh responds flippantly.
The dolphin is about to ask why that explanation is supposed to be sufficient, but he is already having his cavities reamed out from one edge to the other. He squeals and clicks and hollers as his flukes thrash and his arms tighten around the buckling and slowly collapsing structure. Having made sure that he can get both dicks as far into the other man's ass as he likes, Yerkelayh now begins the steady and wonderfully satisfying process of slowly ramping up the ass pounding motion. Unlike the spinner dolphin, the orca's genitalia is external, bother before and after his enlargement. This means that with every colossal thrust, his balls, each the size of a small house, come down against the dolphin's cheeks with a terribly loud slap. Shockwaves spread out in an impressive radius, making skulls near the epicentre feel like they are splitting, whilst beyond that point people are merely going temporarily deaf.
Yerkelayh's selfish actions are causing ever multiplying levels of devastation as his body flexes and hugs against the giant dolphin in a possessive and bestial fashion. This is made all the more evident now as the building on which Virgil is pressed against finally starts to fall. Both of the locked lovers fall with it, their bodies coming down incidentally barrelling though one building and the next, asphalt splitting underneath their impact as water mains burst and the streets fill with debris, water and wreckage. Yet none of this is slowing the orca as he continues to drive his double dicks in, faster and harder than only a moment ago. Clearly any attempt at forethought to their own size and strength has now given way to their all consuming lust. The few helicopters that are still in the air now get an incidentally lewd view of the orca's flukes raised up, exposing a muscled ass the size of a sports field, or more.
Even as the very ground itself begins surrendering to their combined mass and kinetic strength, Yerkelayh can feel his climax coming. But it is not enough to fill the dolphin here, like this. He has to have his face up, his submission exposed for the world to see. So he rolls and lifts the dolphin with him. Yet more destruction, as buildings, tumble and split apart upon their writhing bodies. However now the orca is sitting in an upright position, whilst Virgil is hurriedly trying to work himself up and down the orca's twin towers. The orca reaches for his friend's face and makes sure that he is looking up and in the general direction of the media. Final frenetic tugs, their instincts synchronising the ebb and flow of their bodies and their aroused states, until now at long last the finale comes.
With the first shot Virgil's volley of jizz merely glances the Regent Building, arcing over and landing more or less gracefully outside of the densest parts of the city. But now his second one is far more on target, tearing through several floors in a powerful and messy trajectory that is angled diagonally. More blasts are now following, some finding an obstacle in their path, others not. All of them both amaze and frighten those still stupid enough to not have their backs turned to the two demigods. It is, however, the orca's production that is what will flood these streets. As he bellows it is all too clear that his loins have produced such a quantity of whale seed, as to actually be distending the spinner dolphin's belly, making the kind of bump that can be so easily associated with the idea of an inflated gut. Of course Yerkelayh is maintaining a tight grip on the other cetacean as his cocks twitch inside, their fury buffered only by his friend's well practised tunnel.
It takes over ten minutes until Yerkelayh's orgasm begins to slow. Virgil is already spent but is groaning as he feels the big orca's semen warming his belly. A couple minutes more and the killer whale has had his fill of gargantuan ass. With one hand, he starts pushing against the dolphin's spiky back, unwilling to snuggle with those things in the way. This lends itself to Virgil collapsing forwards, his body as fatigued and his lust as fulfilled as his friend. The combined result is that now Yerkelayh's softening penises pop out and a jet stream of his own semen washes back over him.
'Fuck!' Yerkelayh gargles more than shouts in that giant's voice as he is showered in love juice that begins pouring back down and running into the streets surrounding them.
'Aaah...' Virgil manages to part whimper, part moan, his eyelids sliding shut.