Contraindications Part 11

Story by Tube on SoFurry

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#11 of Contraindications


Matt crouched in the chair of the waiting room, trying not to look around. He was acutely aware of people looking over at him. He'd changed into his gym clothes shortly after his encounter with Gomez - and had actually had to use a pocketknife to strip the bunched shirt and dress pants away from his joints, where the clothes had cinched painfully tight. He'd crouched, naked, behind a couple parked cars in the parking garage and sprayed deodorant liberally across his chest and down his shorts to try to mask his scent. Then he'd tugged on the baggy gym clothes, only to find out they clung to him like they were a size or two too small. The black clothes gripped and hugged every contour of his newly grown body. It was embarrassing.

He figured he looked like a jackass trying to show off. Some people had stared agape when he'd walked by them in the hospital, and he'd picked up the smell of lust from one or two others, but more than one had rolled her eyes after he'd passed. A burly, late-middle aged bear had muttered, "asshole," just in earshot as he walked by, and he'd heard a couple of receptionists giggling to each other with a few well-timed, "Oh. Mygods." sent after him.

He felt self-conscious and uncomfortable. Worse, he found that the situation was turning him on in spite of it. If he didn't look around at the other people in the waiting room, the sight of his own powerful, new body bulging into his lower vision made other things start to bulge. There would be no way he could hide it in those shorts. His sac and sheath obscenely swelled out the front of his gym shorts even without arousal. He tried his best to keep his mind away from it. This time he knew better than to think of work; he dug deep into his memory for moments of grief or shame, and these served to keep his mind away from sex. For the first time since swallowing all those supplements (it felt more like three years ago than three days), his condition really did feel a bit like a curse; he was reduced to thinking of lost pets to try to avoid humiliation in a hospital waiting room. Not how he'd hoped things would end up.

"Stafford?" A young ram wearing a nurse's uniform looked around the office. "Matt Stafford?"

Matt stood up, his thick tail nearly knocking the chair over. "That's me."

"Whoa," the nurse said amiably. "Back this way, big fella."

Matt followed him back through the door behind reception and over to a scale.

"Hop on up here and let's get your height."

He stood patiently as the ram reached up and adjusted the height bar up over his head, having to stretch to reach up. He was grateful again for having thought to spray his deodorant down below. The ram was small, but kind of cute, and he didn't want to have to deal with the nurse coming onto him. He wasn't sure he could say no.

"Hmm." The ram frowned. "What's your name again?"

"Matt Stafford," Matt answered.

"Can I see your patient ID card?"

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Matt reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet with his patient ID card. The nurse took it and peered at the card, then back at Matt, then down at his clipboard. "This is weird. It's your chart, for sure, but... they've got the height down here at five ten, and you're pushing six and a half feet easy. And your weight says one fifty." He peered at the display on the scale, which Matt couldn't easily see from his angle. "You're more than twice that. Three twenty."

He couldn't really be over three hundred pounds, could he? Matt suddenly felt dizzy. "It must be some kind of typo," he suggested.

"Well. Could be," said the nurse. "We started switching from physical to digital records a couple of years ago, and sometimes we get weird little errors. You know how it is."

Breathing a sigh of relief, he nodded and stepped down off the scale.

"All right," the cute little ram said, smiling up at him. Will, his nametag said. "Why don't you sit down here and we'll get your blood pressure?" He patted the back of a large chair.

"Okay." Matt threaded his tail through the hole in the back of the chair and sat down, wincing as his thighs crammed against each other and pushed his sac up in the shorts. He grinned apologetically at the nurse, who, if he noticed, pretended not to. He must see a lot, working in the doctor's office. Matt's eyes flickered down his body, wondering what he looked like out of that uniform, tight white curls covering his chest, his ass... No. Focus.

The nurse lifted a wide, black Velcro strap to Matt's arm and then paused. "Hmm. Better break out the bigger cuff I guess." He set it down and crouched to rummage in a cabinet.

He looked lean. Probably could pick him up with one hand. Hold him against the wall... Crap! No!!

"Normally we break this out only for our patients who are... uh, having dietary issues," the nurse said, holding up a strip of black fabric that looked like could wear it around his waist. He fastened it around Matt's bare arm. "You must be able to bench press a lot, huh?"

"Actually, I..." The otter hesitated. He had no idea what he could lift now. He hadn't been to the gym since the day this whole thing started. The thought of finding out sent an electric thrill through him. "I dunno," he finally answered.

"Oh come on," the nurse said, flashing him an amiable smile. "You don't have to be modest with me. What is it?" He connected the cuff to a machine and pressed a button. With a hiss, the cuff began constricting around Matt's upper arm.

"I'm not being modest. I honestly don't know," he said. He gave his arm an experimental flex in the cuff, and the Velcro gave a tearing sound as it started to separate.

"Just relax," the nurse said. He looked a little disappointed.

"I'm on an unusual program. It... I haven't really tried bench press since I started it."

The nurse brightened. "Curls, then? You curl a lot?"

Was the ram hitting on him? Matt couldn't tell. Maybe big guys just got asked these kinds of questions all the time. Maybe it was something he'd have to get used to. He thought of lifting Stetson up onto his cock down in Saul's creepy little dungeon basement. "Yeah, you know, around one seventy-five, I guess, for a max lift."

Will - he decided he liked that name - stared at him. "You're shitting me."

"No, seriously," Matt said. "It's probably more." Wait. Could that be right? He thought back to the other day at the gym. What had he curled? Sixty? And that had been high for him. Was curling that much normal? He didn't think so. "Oh, but that's really loose form," he amended. "You know, getting the shoulders in there, swinging and everything. Strict form it's probably like one forty-five."

The ram gave a low whistle. "That's nuts," he said. "You could almost curl me."

"Would you like me to?" Matt heard himself ask.

At that moment, the blood pressure machine beeped, and Will dropped his clipboard on the floor. "Oh!" he said loudly. His ears turned pink beneath his wool. "Startled me. Uh..." he looked at the machine. "One... one twenty over eighty. That's... that's perfect." He scrawled the numbers down on the sheet.

Matt wished he could melt down off the bottom of his chair and slide down into an air conditioning vent or something. Would you like me to? What the hell was that? Where had that come from. His condition was going to his head. He felt his face burning with embarrassment.

"Why don't I show you to the examination room?" the nurse said, not meeting Matt's eyes.

"Okay." Matt stood up and followed the click of the ram's hooves down the hallway, and sat in the proffered room. At least, he thought, his utter mortification had killed his wood.

"The doctor will be along shortly," said Will. He hesitated at the door. "I have a break in about half an hour." The words came in a sudden rush, and then he closed the door.

Matt gaped after him. He could hear hoofs moving at a very rapid pace down the hallway. It could happen. He could take that cute little nurse in an isolated hallway, or across the table in an unused examination room. His sheath thickened with interest, straining at his shorts, and he sighed, and tried to think of horrible things again.

Dr. Jann entered the room as he was flipping through an index with colorful images of various foot diseases. He set it down hastily. "Hello, Mr...." She looked down at her clipboard and back up again. "...Stafford?" she said. "I'm sorry, I guess I have the wrong room."

He shook his head. "No, that's me," he answered the lemur. "Matt Stafford." This again. He was growing tired of it already.

The lemur frowned. "I think we must have your charts mixed up with someone else's." She waved the clipboard at him. "I saw this Mr. Stafford last Friday and he is perhaps half your size."

Matt held out his paws. "I know it's hard to believe. But it's really me. I saw you last Friday, and then what happened is, I stopped in a weightlifting supplements store, and there was this accident, and I accidentally ingested a lot of stuff, and then, well, I started growing."

The doctor stared at his face, and then her face tightened. Then laughter bubbled up out of her. "That is... utterly ridiculous," she said. "For any number of reasons. I don't know what you're trying to pull here, but committing medical insurance fraud is a serious offense. You could go to jail. Do you understand me?"

Matt rubbed at his head with both paws, feeling his shirt lift up and expose his abs. "Isn't there anything I can do to make you believe me?"

The lemur snorted. "That one of my patients grew half a foot and over a hundred pounds overnight? What you're talking about is medically impossible. Even if muscle could grow that fast, it would probably kill you. Your skin would rip, your bones would fracture, your tendons would tear, and the metabolic change necessary would probably burn you alive. If what you are saying were true, you'd be dead right now."

He blinked at her, confused. "But it is true. Can't you do a DNA test or something to prove it's me?"

She sighed. "I could order up a DNA test if I found it medically relevant, but it would still take two weeks to get results. It's not like on CSI."

"I don't know how to convince you then," Matt said. "But please, can you help me out anyway? It's important. You're a doctor. You can't... you can't turn down someone in need, right? It's the Hippocratic Oath."

"Not exactly how that works," Dr. Jann said. "But why don't you tell me what you want."

Matt dug the crumpled up piece of paper out of his pocket and held it out to her. "This is a list of everything I used," he said. "I was just wondering how long this stuff would be in my system."

The doctor looked disappointed as she took the piece of paper. "You mean you've injected yourself with steroids, and you want to know how long it will show up on a drug test."

"What?" Matt almost shouted. "No! I haven't used steroids."

"Honey, I'm a doctor. Nobody gets that big without steroids. Not without a myostatin deficiency or some other genetic condition." She perused the paper, and her brow furrowed more and more. "You said this is all you took?"

Matt nodded.

"This... none of this is steroidal. There are a few esoteric herbs. Most of this is just junk." She flicked at the paper with the backs of her fingers. "If you honestly haven't been injecting anything besides what's here, then maybe we should do a DNA test. It could identify a genetic disorder that might have caused this. I don't know what your own medical insurance situation is, but it's a crime for you to be using Matt's ID card to get medical assistance. There are free clinics."

"Can you... will you run the DNA test for me? If you do, I promise I won't do it again. No one has to know."

The lemur looked reluctant. "I shouldn't... but all right. If only to prove that you shouldn't be receiving medical assistance under Matt's account."

Matt slumped in relief. He could get medical proof that he was who he said he was. "And what about the ingredients on that list?"

Dr. Jann frowned again. "Like I said, I don't see anything in here that could be causing muscular development - at least nothing that's been proven to. But since you asked, some of these chemicals look like they're fat soluble."

"What does that mean?"

"They get stored in your fat cells. You may think you're nice and lean, but everyone has fat cells. And when your body stores stuff in there, it generally takes about thirty days to clear out. Longer, if you've been consuming the stuff regularly."

Matt's eyes widened. "Thirty days?"

"Or more."

Thirty days or more. His gaze was distant in thought as the nurse in the lab filled several vials with his blood. He didn't know why they needed so much. Wasn't a DNA test just a swab? He guessed they were also doing steroid tests or something like that. Thirty days or more. In a tenth of that time, he'd grown more than half a foot and doubled his weight. He could barely stuff his balls into a pair of underwear, and his sheath was up above his waistline, climbing toward his navel.

The nurse affixed a liquid bandage on his arm that sealed in around his fur. He thanked her, vaguely, and walked back to the lobby and sat in a chair, thinking. How many times had he climaxed in the last three days? Ten? Eleven? He couldn't recall. And thinking about sex made him stiffen up again. He had to hunch forward awkwardly to keep it from showing, and that just put the enticing smell of his tip uncomfortably close to his nose. It was so easy to lick himself now. He was doing it in his sleep. Hell, even if he didn't touch himself at all, he would climax. So even if somehow, somehow he could restrain himself from touching himself or sucking himself or fucking any of the guys that wanted him, it wouldn't make any difference. His body was built for sex. He'd climax on his own, with just the touch of the fabric against his cock while he was awake. Or he'd suck himself while asleep. Or his scent would drive Stetson wild. It didn't matter.

There was a hand on his knee. He looked up. Will, the nurse, was sitting next to him. "Bad news?" the ram asked. His voice was soft and concerned.

"Yeah, I guess so," Matt answered. He sat up. His erection was no longer a threat, at least for the moment.

Will nodded. "You want to go someplace quiet?"

The otter's gaze flickered over him. He felt like he could almost see the lean, lithe body through the uniform. "I don't know if that's a good idea right now."

"We don't have to do anything," Will said. "If you just want to talk."

Matt hesitated. The only other thing was to go home, and Stetson was at work. He didn't think he wanted to sit by himself with his thoughts for five hours. "Okay."

The ram took his hand, and he stood up. They walked down through the medical offices, past elderly people huddled alone in chairs, past people on crutches or with arms in a sling. One old bear had an eye patch with damp fur beneath. They turned the corner into an isolated corridor and then Will dug into his pocket for a ring of keys and unlocked a door. The window was dark, and the sign next to it read, Physical Therapy. He clicked a light switch and pale fluorescent lights flickered on in the room. Matt followed him inside, noticing the odd, inclined cots, weight machines, treadmills, mirrored walls, and a set of waist-high parallel bars running down a platform in the middle of the room.

"People come here to learn to how to move and walk again," Will said. "After something happens, like a stroke or something. But it's okay. We don't have any sessions scheduled for a while." He braced the heels of his hands on one of those inclined cots and hefted himself up, his hooves swinging above the floor. Matt sat down on one opposite him, his webbed feet firmly planted. "So, you want to talk about it?" The ram gave him a shy, encouraging smile.

Matt shrugged, feeling his heavy shoulders cramming his traps for room. "I just... found out that I have a condition. My life is going to have to be different than it was from now on."

Will blinked his amber eyes with evident concern. "Is it terminal?"

That was a good question. Could it be? He thought about what Dr. Jann had said, about all the negative side effects that he should have experienced. If whatever was going on with him was going to kill him, it probably would have already. "No," he answered, feeling relatively certain that was true. "But I don't know what's going to happen. Everything's changing."

Will nodded, and said nothing.

"So I've already lost my job, and my boyfriend's really worried, and, well, I can't really talk about the specifics, but... things are just going to be different."

The ram smiled at him again. "Does different mean bad, in this case?"

Again Matt hesitated. Did it? He thought about all his worries. He'd lost his job. People looked at him funny. He had some unusual social difficulties. Maybe he wouldn't be able to do all the things he wanted to do. But he could do different things now. He thought of the people he'd seen in the hallway with broken limbs, missing eyes, rashes, or alone and infirm. What was wrong with him, really? He was big. He had powerful sexual urges. These were all things he would have given anything for a few days ago. Granted, he hadn't expected things to go this far. Granted, there were difficulties he hadn't anticipated. But he was fine. Great, even. He just needed to accept that things were going to change.

"I guess it doesn't," he finally said. "Just different."

Will nodded. "A lot of people figure that out in here," he said. "Just usually not so fast. You know, even when bad stuff happens, it changes you, and that means a new perspective. It's a new way to look at the world. It can make you a stronger person."

Matt laughed out loud at that. "It sure can."

Will leaned forward and put a hand on his knee. "It was nice to meet you, Matt." His fingers kneaded there, and Matt let out a slow, easy sigh, feeling the stress drain away from him. "But if you have a boyfriend..."

"It's okay. We're open. But I don't really know if it's a good idea for me to..."

Will's hand slid higher, up his thigh. "You got something I could catch?" he asked.

"No," Matt said. "It's just that..." He trailed off then as the ram's fingers brushed at the side of his sac, an almost electric surge going through his loins. "Gods," he groaned. His sheath thickened instantly at the touch, the bulge of his tip pushing up his athletic shirt. These are your only clothes, his brain warned him, and he immediately stripped off his shirt before it could get any of his musk on it.

Will's eyes widened, looking him up and down. "Holy Toledo," he breathed. His eyes lingered on Matt's cock, rising with his heartbeat up to jut up before his pecs. "You're enormous." He hastily half-unbuttoned his nurse's uniform and then pulled the rest of it over his head, the fabric catching on his horns. His chest was lean, the slight swell of his pecs covered with tight, woolly curls. He hopped down off the cot and stepped up to Matt, putting his fingers on Matt's shorts and giving him a questioning look.

Matt nodded and lifted up his weight with both arms, feeling his triceps flex against his sides, his pecs bulging out.

The ram stared in astonishment for a moment at that, and then pulled Matt's shorts down, working the stretched material over his thighs to expose the rest of his sheath and his full, bulging sac. He paused, then, reaching forward to heft Matt's balls in his paws. "I've never seen," he said, almost to himself. "Each one is a handful by itself!"

His touch was electric; the otter's cock flexed hard and then a rivulet of pre ran down his channel. Almost absently, he kicked his shorts away.

Will leaned forward and caught the stream of lubricant with his tongue and traced it back up to Matt's tip again, and Matt groaned and redoubled the volume with another flex of his cock. The ram shook his head. "I can't fit that inside me, big guy."

That was the first time Matt had ever heard that! He wondered, distantly, if he would ever be able to have sex with guys in the future. But no, there were still some species that were plenty bigger than him. "No, it's okay," he said. Still, he thought. Plenty bigger for now. Thirty days....

The thought was pushed out of his head by another stroke of Will's smooth tongue on his aching flesh. "Why don't you lie back?" Will said. "Just relax. Close your eyes."

Matt nodded at him and turned, reclining on the cot, his cock thumping against his chest as he did so. His back was thick enough that his head tilted back when he rested normally, so he lifted his arms and crossed them behind his head, letting his eyelids relax. He felt Will's gentle touch slide across his thighs, thumbing over the lobes of his quadriceps, moving up toward the pulsing center of his lust. He lifted his hips, straining, and then hot, slippery fluid spilled out of him and into the cleft of his chest, slowly running up to pool in the hollow of his neck. He heard his groan as he did so. With his eyes closed, it sounded different: bestial, and almost predatory.

Will's touch moved up his hips, tugging lightly at his waist. He felt the padded material of the cot compress near his thighs; it must have been Will climbing up onto the cot with him. Furred fingers slid up his belly, thumbs stroking at the outer edges of his abs, and then hands gripped at his chest firmly. He felt the light touch of the ram's woolly chest against his glans, and his hips twitched upward; he wanted to take him in both paws and lift him up to bury his cock deep under the ram's tail - but of course, that would hurt him, so he kept his paws where they were and lay still. "God," the ram whispered. His breath buffeted Matt's tip agonizingly, and he pushed his hips up again. It would feel so good to take him, to sink deep into him.

He felt the padding compress to either side of his head, and then there was a musky smell right near his nose. His eyes blinked open; he could see the bright pink spear of Will's lust above his nose. When had he even taken his pants off? The ram wiggled his hips meaningfully. "This isn't all just about you, you know," he said impishly, and then he leaned forward and dragged his tongue over Matt's sac, opening his jaws and taking one orb in his mouth, suckling at it. Matt thrust again, groaning - it felt like when they grew, almost , and his shaft ground up into Will's wool, the sensation coarse but enjoyable.

The ram had said something important just now, he felt, but right now he couldn't think on it. He unfolded his arms from behind his head and gripped Will's hips, lifting them upward so that he could get at the shaft jutting out over his muzzle. His chest bunched up as he lifted, pushing toward his chin, but he ignored it, as he also ignored the feeling of his sac being released by Will's jaws with a pop. Leaning up, he took Will's cock in his mouth, pushing it deep into his throat, privately delighted as the ram squirmed in his grip. He curled his tongue around it, suckling. Otters had an advantage: they could hold their breath a long, long time.

Fingers groped at his cock, tugging at it, trying to heft it upward. Will twisted in his grip, moaning out loud, and Matt rewarded him by pushing the ram's tip deeper into his throat and swallowing repeatedly. He felt the broad, smooth strokes of the ram's tongue against several inches of his cock, painting it down toward the base with eager strokes, and his hot pre splashed out against his neck and chin, rivulets running down either side to pool on the cot. They were going to have some work to get this stuff clean. He wondered absently if his scent would affect people even after he was gone.

He bobbed his muzzle, curled his tongue all the way around Will's stout pink shaft, swallowed again and again, and then he felt the ram twitch and tense in his grip. Hips spasmed toward his muzzle, and fingers tightened on his cock. Will gave a series of helpless groans, and then his cock started flexing hard in Matt's mouth, but the tip was buried too deep into his throat for him to taste any seed, so he just swallowed a few more times, and was rewarded by the sound of Will crying out and tugging urgently at his cock.

After a moment, the ram relaxed in his grip, and began panting. "Uh... sorry that... that happened so quick. I don't usually." He sounded embarrassed.

Matt gently released Will's cock from his muzzle, feeling him squirm with oversensitivity as he did so. "No worries."

"Er... I can... help you a little more easily if you... could set me down?"

Matt opened his eyes. He realized suddenly that he was holding Will up in the air, above his head. No wonder the ram had been struggling so much to attend to him. "Sorry," he said, letting Will down.

Will shook his horned head. "No, it's just... damn. You didn't know you were lifting me?" He took a few steps back. "Maybe you should sit up after all."

"Okay." Matt hefted himself upright again, his thick tail curling around the other side of the cot. Spilled pre started soaking down through the fur on his pecs. He was going to smell like it; there was no escaping that.

Gazing up at him with wide yellow eyes, Will reached up and curled his fingers around Matt's cock, which looked over three inches thick by now, and pulled it down toward his face. Matt shivered in delight at the sensation, felt himself clench, and then his pre splashed across the ram's muzzle, soaking it. Will gasped in surprise, breathing in deep, and then shuddered, his eyes squeezing closed. He crouched there for a moment, nestled between the otter's thighs, the point of his erection nudging against one.

The otter reached forward and brushed his fingers through the ram's curled head fur. "You okay there?"

Will gasped again, spluttering, his nostrils flared wide. "Yeah. It's just that... usually after I climax, I'm kind of less interested, but... there's something... I can't..." He trailed off, staring at the otter's dripping tip as if he were starving, and then, opening his jaws wide, he stuffed Matt's tip between them. He groaned around it, his slippery tongue sliding against the glans. His breath puffed heavily through his nostrils, his brow setting determinedly. He gripped at Matt's shaft more tightly, fingers dimpling the surface, and pushed it deeper into his mouth.

Matt felt himself squeeze another jet of precum out, and was gratified to see Will's eyes widen again as he almost choked on it. The ram looked up at him questioningly, as if to ask, was that it? And Matt just shook his head, took Will's curved horns in both hands, and pulled him forward on his cock again.

The ram couldn't fit much of Matt's erection into his mouth, but his tongue was soft and firm, his suckling so eager and hungry, that it didn't take long at all for his arousal to build. Then Will pulled back, wrapped both slender arms around Matt's aching length and hugged it to his chest. With fervent, rapid strokes he painted the otter's tip with his tongue, licking over it as if it were candy, groaning with urgency. He inhaled deep and then looked startled, and started bucking against the cot. To his surprise, Matt felt a second hot climax from the ram splash against his thigh and sac, but he barely had time to register this before Will dove down around his tip again, cramming it as deep into his muzzle and throat as he could.

The squeeze of the ram's arms and the unexpected softness of his muzzle and throat pushing steadily down around Matt's cock drove him almost immediately over the edge. He gripped the ram's horns and tugged, hips twitching. Through the blaze of intense pleasure, he distantly recalled that his strength was not as feeble as it used to be, so he tried not to tug too hard, but focusing was difficult. His cock seemed to bulge with his climax as it rose up much farther than it had ever had to go before, and then he cried out with the pleasure, his voice almost a roar, his feet and legs moving together to squeeze at the ram nestled between them. Will pulled back, drawing in deep, alarmed breaths through his nares, and then Matt tugged his horns forward again, pushed his cock into his throat, sending another wave of his seed into it. At the third load, Will spluttered and drew back, pulling his horns free of Matt's grip. Cum was already drooling from the corners of his mouth, soaking his chest fur, and Matt sent a few more volleys into his muzzle and across his face.

Will slipped backward and fell onto his haunches on the floor, gasping. "Oh gods!"

"You okay?" Matt asked, feeling a mixture of elation and concern.

"I... yes, amazing," Will began.

Matt barely heard his answer, though, because that now familiar feeling of intense and rising pressure was building once more. He turned toward the mirror, and for the first time, really saw it happen. His body just seemed to expand all over, like a balloon inflating, gradually increasing evenly all over in size. The effect was subtle; he might almost have been faking it by stretching out his posture and puffing out his lungs, but arms and legs grew in length and size as well, his knees rising up with his feet braced on the floor.

"What in the hell..." Will breathed.

Then, all over, his muscles began to contract of their own accord, flexing. His chest, shoulders, back, traps, arms, legs, even abdominals and obliques, all tensed and bulged with power. Each lobe of muscle stood out now, clearly and plainly defined, his short, lutrine fur unable to conceal the smallest detail. The feeling was almost as orgasmic as the sex. He watched his whole body contract and flex, and then relax, and when it relaxed, each muscle was larger than before: biceps swollen out, triceps hanging off of the back of his arms like hams, his neck wedge-thick, traps hulking up to either side of them. Shoulders the size of bowling balls, each of the three heads of muscle crowding the others for space, swelled out wider. His forearms thickened nearly as wide as his upper arms; his chest pushed out even heavier, a split down the middle of each pectoral, his nipples pushed down out of his normal view. In the mirror, he could watch his abdominals contract and push out into cobblestones, the space between each looking deep enough to wedge a pencil into. His back flared even wider, bulging with power, pushing his arms up and forward. His legs pulsed, calves thick, split globes of power, massive thighs nudging each other as their lobes grew more defined. Even his tail thickened and developed, easily as big around as his waist.

The contractions of his muscles ceased, and he panted in ecstasy, only to have his respite interrupted as his cock flexed hard a few times, spitting another rope of his seed across the floor, visibly pulsing larger with each flex, his balls straining as they filled out his sac even more, seeming to refill as if he had never climaxed at all.

Once he was sure everything had stopped, he stood up from the table, having to adjust his stance to accommodate his larger thighs and sac, his heavier cock dripping on the floor as it bobbed. He was massive. He stared at his reflection, transfixed. It was impossible that the otter in the mirror could be him. He wasn't at Mr. Olympia levels of development, but he wasn't too far off, and he was freakishly tall. Besides, the winners of those contests tended to be bulls, horses, big cats, or bears. He was pretty sure no otter had ever been his size before. It was his dream. He lifted an arm and flexed a biceps, watching it swell into a massive ball of power half as large as his head.

"What..." Will's voice came from the floor, trembling with astonishment. "...what are you?"

Matt turned around and crouched, reaching out a paw to help up the ram lying in the pool of musky fluids, his cock still straining with apparent lust. "I told you," he said. "I have a condition."

The ram nodded, staring. "I'll say. You just... I did see you grow just now, right? I mean, that's not my imagination. I did see that."

"Every time I climax," Matt said. "Which it's getting harder and harder not to do."

"Every time?" Will shook his head, walking in a little circle. "You serious? This is... this is crazy." He looked up - way up - at Matt's face. "For how long? I mean, when does it stop?"

The otter shrugged, feeling his traps squeeze against his neck as he did so. "When it stops, I guess."

Will looked at the floor. "Wow, that's... it's kind of cool in concept, but no wonder you were freaking out." He paused. "You could take something, probably. There are drugs that kill libido, or, you know, make it really hard to... to... pop."

Matt had not considered this possibility. "There are? Um. Any I could get without a prescription?"

Will shook his head. "And you'd have to make sure you weren't on... anything else. You know?"

"Oh." Matt looked around for his clothes - they were, fortunately, still dry - and tried to pull them on. They looked comically small on him. He had to wait a bit for his erection to go down enough for him to squeeze his sheath into his gym shorts. "That's no good, then. Doctor's cut me off from medical services. She doesn't believe I'm me." He looked at the mess everywhere. "I can help you clean this up."

Will nodded at the suggestion, then looked up at Matt again and breathed deep. Matt saw his naked cock flex as he did so. "Um. I appreciate it, but maybe that's not a good idea. You... if you're around, I think we're gonna get up to stuff again. And my shift is gonna start soon."

"Okay." Matt was careful to step around the puddles as he made his way back to the door. He looked back at the little ram standing there, shaking out a shirt that had not escaped the events unscathed, still panting. "Thanks, Will," he said. "Not for the sex. I mean, yes, for the sex, but mostly for talking. You know? It helped."

Will's face lit up in a bright smile. "I'm really glad. Will I... will I see you again?"

Matt grinned back at him. "I'm hard to miss," he said.

All the way back through the hospital, he felt more at ease. His situation wasn't any different than before; he was going to keep growing and who knows what else for quite some time. His future was uncertain. But he felt better all the same. Whatever shape it took, it was his future. He would embrace it, accept it, own it. He passed a couple of young interns and, when they giggled at him derisively as he passed, he turned and gave them a broad, cocky grin. They could laugh, maybe, but he was finally comfortable. He could feel the swagger in his walk now as he made his way back to the lobby, the way his thighs rolled around each other, the way his shoulders swayed from side to side. He could feel his stomach growling. He was starving.

He hurried to his car in a swift, loping pace, his legs propelling him with a speed and power that surprised him, and pulled open the trunk. Inside was his bag of protein bars, which he pulled out and greedily wolfed down one after the other. They tasted horrible, as usual, but it didn't matter. Only when he was finished, his belly uncomfortably full, did he realize he had downed about thirty of the things. He'd have to go pick up some more at some point.

He knew he was in trouble when he stepped up to his car door and realized that the top of his car barely reached the bottom of his chest. It took some doing to fit himself inside: he leaned the seat back a bit, adjusted the steering wheel, and then wedged himself in. He tugged at the door and couldn't close it; his shoulders were too broad. Finally he leaned to the side and managed to yank the door closed.

Driving was an ordeal; the steering wheel was mashed up against his chest and difficult to turn, and hunching over to look out the windshield only made things worse. To top everything off, his shorts kept riding up into his crotch, and shirt rising up over his abs. It was just uncomfortable. And his stomach was growling with hunger again.

Demigods Gym was coming up on the right, and on an impulse, he pulled into the parking lot and found a spot, taking the opportunity to pull himself out of his tiny car and stretch his legs and shoulders.

He leaned on his car, resting his elbows on the roof. He shouldn't go into the gym. It was asking for trouble. A locker room full of naked, muscular guys? Raw displays of power? All the stuff that got him excited in one place? If he went into that place, if he walked into Demigods, he was going to get in trouble.

On the other hand, he reasoned, he didn't have to get into trouble. He could focus: just head on in, find out just what he could lift now, see how he measured up to the other lifters, and get out. Also, they had clothes there that were designed to fit guys like him. He could get out of the barely-decent clothes he had on and find something more comfortable.

Yeah, he told himself, you don't have to get into trouble, but you will. You know it. You're even hoping for it, heading in there.

But they also had protein bars and protein shakes. His stomach growled urgently. That cinched it. He closed his car door and headed for the front door of the gym. He could behave himself. He would. There were too many people there at this time of day anyway. No chance to get into trouble. Everything would be just fine.

His balls pulsed with lust.

Contraindications Part 12

The car creaked in relief as Matt stepped out of it, rising up and bouncing a little. It looked like the struts were going. He looked back over his vehicle and realized that it probably wasn't worth it to replace them. He didn't fit in it anymore....

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Contraindications Part 10

The raccoon really wanted it again. That was the only excuse, Matt figured. Otherwise, how could he have tracked him down from the health supply store. The raccoon nestled up against Matt's front, and the otter felt himself go instantly and...

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Contraindications Part 9

           Matt squinted at the papers in his paw. The task of noting down everything he might have swallowed had been more daunting than he'd anticipated. Seventeen different mass...

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