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Chapter 8 - The Guest

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Stan lay there on his side, drifting between life and a deep, seemingly endless oblivion. Rough edges of images flickered through his mind, flashes of their children, of his father. It would only take a small push to plummet him over the edge into the gaping crevasse from which there was no return. He began falling towards the pit. His faintly beating heart slowed beneath his extruded ribs.

Just as the darkness began to overtake him he was suddenly bungeed upward. Stan's back spasmed as he gasped for air through his goo-constricted throat. His eyes shot open as a shock of pure-adrenaline coursed through his blood. The erratic beating of his overworked heart was replaced by a rapid and powerful drum thumping in his emaciated chest.

"Hrrrrghhh!" He moaned weakly as his long tongue slowly drew its way back into his mouth, past his wide teeth. The coldness permeating his body was being gradually replaced by a growing heat. He attempted to swallow in more air, but instead only managed to push more of the putrid goo that had collected in his esophagus down his throat. He sputtered and coughed violently as he struggled to breathe through the smell now filling his mouth and nostrils. It was only then that he became aware that hands were holding the underside of his face, keeping his head from listing sideways.

The heat swirled beneath his chest as the flesh of his collapsed stomach began to swell and fill out. The ribbons of muscle throughout his body soaked up the heat like a sponge, each growing fuller and stronger under his stretching clammy skin. His eyes felt too big for his skull as they rolled in their sockets at the sensation. His tongue came alive in his mouth, the muscle unsuccessfully trying to expunge the disgusting-tasting goo from the spaces between his wide molars. His heart beat faster and more insistent as his chest began to swell outward, overtaking his rib cage once again with a thin layer of fat and muscle.

The smell and taste of the creamy brown sludge were inescapable. He spat and snorted trying to expunge it but it was futile. It was everywhere. He heard somebody speaking above him but he couldn't piece together the words. The whole world felt like it was filled with a burning light. The sensations of the brown ichor were only getting more intense with the growing fire in his body. His rough tongue was becoming saturated with the taste of rotten-fruit and soured cheese as he attempted to extricate the goo from the crevices of his mouth.

"Urrrhhhh!!!" He moaned as the acrid decayed taste began to change in his mouth and rapidly huffing nostrils. Just as it had the day before it was becoming something savory, approaching sweet. His tongue quickly went from trying to expel the goo to lapping it up, more and more greedily. Stan blinked as his eyes began to stabilize in his long skull. He looked upward through the slowly clearing haze and made out a blurry figure above him. Its hands were massaging the top of his skull. It hurt to focus his eyes, they watered as he blinked.

The figure washed into and out, it was a woman. His ears perked as even their tired muscles became newly invigorated. She was crying softly. He knew her, but for that moment... he couldn't remember. His mind felt muddled, confused like somebody had rearranged where everything was. His nostrils flared as he took in her scent. It was so familiar, but he couldn't place it. Stan felt like he was fighting to dredge memories from the dark pit that he had just been rescued from. A new surge of heat weaved its way through his body making him gasp. His ears pinned themselves against his head as the fatty tissue in his thighs and calves swelled. The fire was burning away the darkness. His eyes bolted open as he finally remembered.

"E...Emmm," he moaned as the edges of his wife came into view. How could he forget his beautiful wife? He didn't feel like himself. Like he was trapped in another person's body, his mind fighting itself for even the most basic of recollections. He hardly had time to admonish himself as Emily wrapped herself around his long muzzle. Stan felt like he was being smothered as his body jerked under her embrace. He could feel tightness along the entirety of his muzzle as he gasped for air.

"Stan...." Emily said as she broke off her hug, leaving him wheezing and snorting for air. The heat in his chest was getting worse, unable to be extinguished so easily again.

"Y...you're alive!" She sobbed, her voice was becoming clearer and more coherent to his scooped-ears by the moment.

"Oh god Stan, look what they did to you...Can...can you understand me?" She asked plaintively, holding the sides of his face again with her hands. Stan looked up and her and nodded his head. The pain and weight of his body were rushing back in as the fire melted away the numbness.

"Whathhh...whathhh happenthhh..." Stan was able to weakly force out through his hoarse throat. His long muzzle wasn't making words well again. It felt like he had too many teeth and too much muscle bunched into far too small a space around his tongue.

"I don't know, you...I think you almost-" Emily cried above him in relief. He couldn't help but wince as he felt small wet tears splash on his cheeks from above.

Stan opened his mouth to reply but felt a powerful convulsion in his stomach like it was folding in over itself. He couldn't suppress a low animalistic neigh as his weak hands grasped his abdomen. The taste of the rotten-sweet goo was still saturating his mouth. The more he licked it dryly from his teeth the more his stomach gurgled. His whole body felt so hot.

"Puhlease...I neeth...m..moarrr," he moaned. He was awake enough now to realize what he was asking for and what it would do. But it felt like he would die without it. He needed it. He needed it so badly that he felt small tears wince from the corners of his mouth. He hated how much he wanted it. But he couldn't ignore what his body was asking for.

"Y...yes, of course! More, we have more," Emily said flustered above him as he heard the metal clank of the spoon sinking into the container of viscous ooze. Stan couldn't help but tilt his head towards the tin in expectation. Even though every muscle in his thickened neck screamed with the effort he needed the goo more.

Emily gingerly brought a small dollop of the ooze to his mouth and he greedily consumed it, his tongue and lips licking the spoon clean in seconds. She hastily withdrew the spoon and brought another to his lips which he slurped down even more quickly. The taste was wavering between rot and ambrosia as it filled him.

"Muhhhrrr!!" he moaned between breaths, his chest was rising and falling rapidly. The heat was getting worse by the second, fueled by the goo but he couldn't stop. Stan moaned as his back began to widen. His shoulder-blades pushing against the muscles of his back as they grew too large for his frame. Emily seemed to pick up on his urgency as she brought larger and larger heaping spoonfuls to his mouth as fast as she could. The more he ate the sweeter and more delicious it got. His nostrils were flaring as he breathed harder.

It wasn't enough. As Emily brought up the next spoonful he grabbed the utensil and roughly wrestled it from Emily's hand. His tongue circled the small spoon, easily bending its cheap metal as he sucked it like a lollipop before spitting it out unceremoniously across the floor.

"MURRRR!!! EMILEEEHINNY!!!" His screams turned into a bestial whiney. Stan couldn't help but thrust his hips into the air as the bones in his pelvis thickened and broadened underneath him. Despite the changes wracking his body couldn't help but cry for the mixture. The heat was so bad, he felt like his blood was on fire.

"Do... you want the whole can?" Emily asked meekly but urgently above him. His whole body was heaving now as Emily shakily hefted the still-heavy canister above his head. Stan wasted not a single second to grab the canister from her and bury his long nose into its contents. His arms burned from the exertion as he lapped at the vicious goo with a wild abandon. The bones in his forearms were distending as he held the canister aloft, threatening his tenuous grip. Despite the scorching pain he couldn't stop eating. He was beyond ravenous.

Stan could feel his insides changing, reshuffling and swelling as he ate. But for the first time, it didn't hurt. It felt...strangely good. He knew that every change was taking him further away from his human self. Further from his family. He could tell his heart was growing stronger with every urgent beat of the muscle in his ears. The roiling blood coursing through his arteries was moving faster and more forcefully. His skin prickled as its pale expanse, stretched far too thin over his distended body, began to thicken and tighten around his sides.

"hhuurrrRRRRR!!!" He moaned as a shock of pleasure lanced through the hunger, forcing him to temporarily pull the can away from his face. He nickered lustily, his lips flapping open, revealing his teeth as he felt pleasurable pinching stabs in the flesh of his testicles. His hips lifting into the air again as he felt his already large lemon-sized balls swell between his legs.

"EMILEEE...hurrr...helphhh growhuuuing..." he slurred out. He looked plaintively at his wife through lust-bleared eyes. His body felt like it was splitting open. The hot flesh of his twin spheres pushed insistently into his inner thighs. Spittle, saturated with brown goo, flew from his mouth as his body thrashed. The heat in his blood coursed through the tightening skin wrapped around the orbs as they grew heavier and sank deeper between his legs.

"WHInneEYYYyyyy!!" His voice cracked as he bellowed, undulating between a high-pitched whine and a deep throaty roar. Stan could feel his throat thickening, burrowing deep into his body, pushing against the swell of muscles encircling his neck. Stan let out another moan of pleasure, his voice had lowered almost a full octave as it rumbled through his broad chest.

His grasping hands released the tin, unable to fight the urge to touch himself. The weighty half-full canister glanced off the side of his long nose before clattering loudly as it impacted the floor and rolled to rest somewhere nearby. Stan's hands were too busy groping the aching flesh of his testicles for him to care.

"Cuh...can't stop! Hurrrrhh!! HURRR!!!" He let out a series of lusty nickers as the swelling expanse of his testes pressed more and more insistently into his palms. He didn't want Emily to see him like this but his need was too great. The cleft between his balls was deepening as the skin around them struggled to accommodate their increasing girth and weight. Stan shuddered as they were pulled upward towards the base of his cock, unable to find room to expand in any other direction. He squeezed and kneaded his balls as the ache in them grew worse.

"FFURRCKKK...HAHH!!!" The pleasure of his own touch arced through his pelvis. His previously limp and deflated seven-inch cock began to throb as it filled with the roiling mixture in his veins. The flaccid tool jumped atop his testicles. The pale skin of his cock's length quickly turned red as veins pulsed along its growing length. Fueled by the heat his cock was soon near fully-erect, nine inches of his male-hood bobbing pointing into the air. He snorted lustily as he released his right ball and gripped the base of his still-engorging cock with the freed hand. The feeling of the large testicle succumbing to gravity and dropping in its overly-tight sac made him throw his head backward in pleasure. He squeezed the base of his cock tightly, making the veins bulge along its length.

His head pressed tightly against the hard kitchen floor as he nickered and grunted. His hand still firmly secure around the thick girth of his now fully-erect eleven-inch penis. Its substantial weight causing it to flex forward and backward despite the stabilization of his grasping hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the canister, dripping brown goo onto the floor as it lay on its side. Even as he began to madly drag his hand up and down the length of his tool and squeeze his left ball he tried to reach the spreading puddle with his tongue. But it was frustratingly too far for him to reach.

"UHH!!! UHNNN!!! MURRR!!!" He bellowed as his hips did their best to help grind his groin into his hands. His whole body squirmed, unwilling to release his male-hood to use his hands to get closer to the canister. Stan let out a series of frustrated huffs, dilating his nostrils in the process as his body wiggled and inched agonizingly towards the goo. His long tongue was sticking out his mouth reaching towards the upturned goo in vain. His nose was filled once more by the decaying sugary taste in the air. His legs kicked underneath him but they found no purchase. His toes were sliding across the floor. He needed the goo. He needed it badly.

His teeth ground against each other as a slick spurt of pre-cum began to push out of the tip of his cock. The slick liquid had no time to form a glistening pearly-bead atop his engorged head before the eleven-inches flopping madly underneath it tossed it into the air. Stan moaned as he felt the hot excretion land on his bare pelvis and abdomen.

The desperation for the goo was growing so great not even the skewering pain in his back or the pleasurable waves from his masturbation could stop him. With a concerted effort, Stan rolled over, forcing him to extricate his hands from his groin. He got shakily up onto his hand and knees as he made his way towards the canister. His huge cock dangled between his legs, leaving a trail of pre-cum in his wake. His balls, now the size of two small ripe oranges, were so large that they forced his legs slightly apart as he crawled. The sensation of his flesh rubbing and compressing his sac made his cock jump between his legs.

"FURACKK...AAHH!!! HURRR!!!" He moaned. The muscles in his neck strained as his painfully erect tool ejected several large stringy dollops of pre-cum. The slick clear lubricant traced wetly to the floor before his gulping penis tip resumed its steady drip of the fluid.

Stan crawled onward. The need for the goo didn't dampen the ache permeating his body from the pills. Every clasping hand pulling him forward was excruciating but the only thing he could look at was the putrid goo. He finally managed to get close enough to lick the spilled brown vicious mixture off the floor. But before he could lean down to gulp up the putrid mixture he heard his wife's voice.

"Stan...please no, this isn't you. You have to stop...you have to control it," Emily cried from somewhere nearby. Her plea cut through his pounding head. Stan struggled to push down the hunger and lust that filled his body. He looked up at her, down the long expanse of his animalistic nose. Stan felt a twist in his gut as his wife came into view. She was huddled against the kitchen counter, visibly shaking. It hurt his heart to see her like this. He wanted so desperately to reach out to her, to tell her that he was still in the monster he was becoming.

"Em..uh..leee, donhhh...look, don't look at muhhh," he said slowly through deep heaving breaths. His mouth was moving better now but it was taking all his willpower to not dive into the pungent goo tantalizing close to his hands or grab his aching penis. He felt like the thought of his wife having to watch him change was going to break what little of himself was left.

He lifted a shaking arm to reach out to her but his body nearly crumpled on itself at the effort. His remaining arm, planted firmly as it was, was insufficient support for his frame. He snorted in the air as the aching need in his loins grew worse by the moment. He was hot. So hot. And the hunger. Oh god, the hunger. He pushed the feelings down again but wasn't sure how long he could keep them at bay.

"Pulease... Emileeeee!!! Changing...meee....Can't-" He moaned as his tight balls hitched pleasurably against his thighs. Despite his efforts to ignore it, he could smell her sex even across the room. Carnal thoughts flooded into his mind faster than he could suppress them. His eyes rolled in his head as the pleasure overtook him. Mate. Sex. The simple but powerful thoughts pushed at his consciousness.

"EMILEEEE!!! HURRR...FFUCCKKHHH!!!" He nickered as he ground his hips forward, thrusting his cock upward before its substantial weight wobbled it backward. A series of lusty moans escaped his gasping mouth at the sensation. Small tears winced out of his eyes as his willpower failed. He thrust again, his newly swollen balls slapped his thighs and the root of his tool driving him wild.

His head craned downward and his mouth began to ravenously consume the puddle of goo. He couldn't stop thrusting his hips, again and again, picking up speed like he was breeding an invisible mate. The pre-cum spurting and whipping from his cock was thickening and growing more voluminous as it pushed through his turgid insistent length. He could hear it splattering wetly somewhere below him but he didn't care. He had to get the pungent mixture into his body.

Stan was only forced to stop his attack on the contents of the drum for a few moments as bones in his back thickened or cracked into new positions. His toes were fully fusing together behind him as the dark-black nails atop them grew thicker by the moment. His feet were stretching longer as well and becoming bonier as large knuckles of muscle and swelling cartilage formed just above his keratin-oozing toes.

His fingers grasped at the hard dirty floor as they swelled and filled out. His knuckles cracked and crunched below him. The crunching and extending of the bones in his fingers sent dull arcs of pain that wound their ways through his arms. But instead of the sharp, stabs of agony that had wracked his body earlier the pain felt... muted, distant. By contrast, the pleasure of his jutting cock and roiling balls against his undercarriage was near-overwhelming as it crashed through his undulating body.

Just as Stan's nose hit the metal bottom of the can and began to hungrily lick the contents still clinging to the crevices and ridges he felt his cock stiffen and swell even further. Before he could extricate his nose from the tin he felt his heavy balls pull up towards his groin and his cock harden like granite below him. The pleasure crested like a wave reaching its peak.

"WWHINNEYY!!!" He cried out from inside the can, his own deepened voice reverberating through the metal, vibrating his jaw. His ears pinned themselves hard against his head. His cock's swollen mushroom-shaped head puckered as it let loose a thick column of yellow-white jism. The heat felt like it was burning him from the inside. His whole body bucked, dragging the can across the floor as he came again. His nostrils were huffing in the scent of the inside of the canister as he ground himself forward against an invisible mate. The thick heavy muscle between his legs convulsed as it spat out another powerful gale of steaming-hot jism. The swell of his balls jiggled as they were pulled upwards towards his groin before being pulled back down by their heaviness.

He let out a neigh, his eyes rolling in their sockets as he felt the whole of his length tense hard before it began to push out from his body. He came just as his cock's throbbing flesh extended another excruciating inch outward. The tip of his penis was precariously close to touching the fan of still-steaming cum spread below it. He had to touch himself. The need pounded through his skull, tearing at his rationality. He reared upward onto his haunches, taking the can with him, still firmly locked onto his muzzle.

It barely registered to him that the canister was still encircling his wide nose. Only the pleasure coursing through his every nerve mattered. His cock whipping upward, almost slapping his stomach with its weight as his balls slapped the floor. His still-changing and growing hands, now freed from supporting his body, madly masturbated and massaged his growing tool. The girth of his penis pulsated and convulsed beneath his fingers to match its new length. His large hands were able to fully grasp its circumference for only a moment before it swelled in his grasp, forcing them apart again.

"NUURRHHH!" He moaned. His neck strained as tip of his urethra puckered and gaped open as it grew wider. Stan could feel his urethra burrowing through his now foot-long tool, forcing the strong muscles along its length to spread. He felt the thing under his taint compress and pulse again like a beating drum. The pleasure caused by the pulses was so powerful that his head craned skyward. His balls heaved between his legs as a fresh column of cum pushed through his new widened track before arcing wetly into the air and landing with a series of wet splats across the floor in front of him. Stan couldn't stop masturbating madly, trying to wring every last drop of pleasure from his immense cock.

The tip of his penis swelled around his gaping pee-hole, the growing muscle fought against his wet urethra until it was forced closed. It stayed puckered like that for an agonizing, seemingly endless, time. He thrashed on his haunches before his urethra was forced open by a fresh scalding column of semen. All twelve inches of his length jutted upward against his stomach as he came. The orgasm felt like it would never end.

Cum splashed against his chest. The sticky wet fluid felt like it was burning his skin. It was so close he could almost taste his salty jism on his tongue. His orange-sized balls dragged against the floor below him sending shocks of pleasure up his arching spine. Stan grunted as he managed to coax two more small ropes of cum from his shuddering tool. The empty canister fell from his face as the orgasm continued to roll through him.

He sat there, holding himself as cum dripped from his cock, its length rapidly softening in his grip. He huffed and snorted in satisfaction, the lust temporarily satiated as it lowered to a gentle simmer in the back of his mind. His whole body felt...good. The pain was still there but diminished, not enough for him to even pay attention to when he could feel such ecstasy. The need was still boiling through his mind enough that he couldn't stop his hands from massaging and squeezing his drooping cock. The feeling of the heavy still-throbbing flesh in his hands felt too good to withdraw.

As his body calmed his wide chest rose and fell with deep breaths. His heart slowed, its insistent beating draining from his sensitive ears. Stan felt the heat begin to drain from his body as he glanced hungrily at the other two canisters that still sat on the table. Then he remembered his wife, Emily. He could still hear her breathing fast, her heart was racing. The smell of her intermixed with the pungently salty smell of his jism splattered across the floor.

He knew she saw...everything. There was no hiding what he had just done or what he was becoming. Unable to bring himself to look at her directly he got shakily to his feet. The monster was out and growing stronger with every passing minute. He stumbled forward, collapsing onto all fours, jostling his testicles between his thighs before trying again. Using the table as leverage he managed to stand on the tips of his wide monstrous toes. He felt too tall, too high off the ground like he was on stilts. He tried to take a hesitant step and began to fall again.

Emily rushed forwards, trying to catch him before his weakened arms arrested his descent. He felt her arms around his midriff, her skin was cold and sweaty against the hot thickened epidermis that now wrapped his torso. Stan couldn't help but wince at the touch, he wanted desperately to push her away. He didn't want her to have to hold what he was becoming.

"No, puhlleeth...don't help. I'm a monster...Em" he slurred. His tongue felt too big for his mouth again. He writhed in her grip trying to extricate himself but she was holding him too tightly. Stan took a deep breath and forced himself to look at her. Her head was a good bit lower than his now as he had to crane his neck downward with a series of sickening cracks.

"No...no you're my Stan. You're my husband...and...and a father," Emily sputtered into his side. She looked up at him with puffy red eyes and tear-stained cheeks as she reached up to stroke the side of his face. Stan pulled his head away from her touch, he didn't want her to feel how much his face had changed.

"Em..I... I'm not...I'm not that p..person...I'm not even human..." his large hand fully-encompassing hers as he pulled her arm away from his face.

"No, you're wrong. No matter what they do to you, you're my Stan. Remember that. Please, Stan, you have to remember that," Emily pleaded as he released her hand. Emily desperately hugged him as she buried her head against his side. It took Stan longer than he cared to admit to return the hug. He knew he didn't deserve it.

He took a step backward to try to break away from her. The keratin that coated the tips of his feet slipped on the slick pre-cum and semen that splattered the floor. He grunted as his weight began to list backward, taking Emily with him. He hugged her tightly trying to protect her from the fall as his body crashed through another one of their chairs. The pain of the splintering plastic beneath him felt like nothing compared to what he had already endured.

Stan was prone on his back again. Emily lay atop him, her thin frame felt so fragile and light. But even so, the compression of her body against his loins was beginning to surface and stir the lust he had just conquered back to the surface. Stan moaned as he fought the desire to grind her body against himself. Bury his length deep inside of her as deep and as hard as he could. He shook his head to clear the thoughts as he tried to push her off before it was too late.

"ORANGE. ARRRIEN. FFFFIIIVEE-THIRTEEN SRRIJGITJK!!!" The house computer blared suddenly at maximum volume, interrupting the surging need in Stan's loins. His ears pinned themselves against his head to protect their sensitive innards from the aural onslaught.

"What's happening?!?" Emily cried out from atop him as bolted upright, straddling his chest with her legs. All the lights in their home began to shimmer and blink on and off as the automated doors began to open and close wildly.

"WALL STJZTJZ WIRING SEVENNNN NINEeeee...." The house computer fizzled out as the lights blinked off and left them in near-darkness, save for the pale light streaming through the few small windows.

Emily managed to extricate herself from atop him as she hobbled over to the windows above the sink. Stan did his best to right himself as well but his feet kept slipping on the minefield of slick liquids. The ground began to rumble underneath them as the wind howled outside. Plastic bags and packing materials pinned themselves to the outside of their windows as the rumble grew louder and closer. It sounded like the roar of jet turbines but it was far too close. Their house felt like it was shaking apart as crates crashed to the ground. Their precious collection of glass jars began to shatter as they jiggled off their rickety shelves. Emily did her best to race to collect the rest before they met a similar fate.

There was yelling outside, Stan could hardly make it out over the rumble as even larger pieces of trash were flung at their windows. He could hear it impacting the sides of their prefab house like mighty hammer strikes. Even with his heightened senses, he couldn't make out anything through the rumbling and the swirling gale outside. Emily was screaming something above the din but it was unintelligible. Stan was doing everything in his power to remain upright, there was no way he could reach her. As he attempted to inch towards her one of the living room windows broke inwards sending a spiral of trash careening into their home. The world felt like it was ending.

Just as the rumbling felt like it would destroy their home it subsided into a faint roar. The forceful wind outside calmed as the trash plastered against their small window portholes hesitantly fell away. Stan struggled to make his way to a window to see what had happened. But before he could approach the small high-up opening he heard a clamoring at the front door.

"It can't be Dalton, we still have two weeks!" Emily yelled across the house.

"HIDE!!!" He bellowed at Emily. Somebody was coming in. With feet that felt like they were made of ice he stumbled towards the door, trying his best to find something, anything, he could use as a weapon. He had to protect Emily. He had to protect his mate. He huffed through his nostrils as his cock began to inflame, but not in lust but anger. The door was being forced open as its gears squealed on the metal tracks.

"Hurghh!!!" He heard a deep unfamiliar voice grunt along with the twisting of labored servos. The door gave way as it flew into its wall-pocket with enough force to bend the railings that held it in place. Light streamed through the opening, illuminating their darkened home. Stan felt his cock jump as its flesh grew harder with every breath. He had to fight. He felt powerful hormones wash over him as his muscles tensed under his skin, ready to strike.

An imposingly tall figure walked through the doorway, silhouetted by the light outside. Stan couldn't make out the shape of it but he could see pin-pricks of artificial light adorning its head and body. He didn't think as his legs tensed and pushed backward, catapulting his body recklessly towards it. Spittle flew from his mouth as he confronted the stranger. His huge angry erection flopped madly between his legs, straining outward like it wanted to spear the intruder on its own. To his surprise, the figure caught his hands mid-air and pressed him back with impossible strength. The figure didn't even stagger a step backward as all of Stan's weight and body pressed against the intruder. Servos whined as Stan's strength failed. He felt pricks of sharp pain on the backs of his hands as the figure held him in place with ease.

"How are we looking in there Blue?" A voice called from outside the door.

"Assessing, one moment," the figure said wryly as the lights on its head panned up and down Stan's body before pushing him back onto his shaky feet. Stan lost control and fell backward only catching himself on a column for support.

"Alive? Both of them?" The voice asked, unbelieving, from outside. The voice sounded human, a woman. Lights flashed across the face of the figure as it scanned his body. He could feel a strange warmth moving over him as the figure's face traced his nakedness.

"Let me send in some light," the voice outside said as a dozen small silent drones flew in past the figure and spread themselves around the room. Stan was dazed as the room flashed into sudden illumination, each drone shining more brightly than their house lights. He blinked as he looked up at the figure, his eyes adjusting to the intensity of the glare.

Stan was ready to lunge at the figure again but his coiling muscles stopped mid-tense under his skin. His eyes went wide as he saw the tall figure, now exposed by the light. It was something monstrous. Not unlike what he was becoming. Its long sinewy legs were more like an animal than a person's. He gasped as he saw a long bushy tail peeked behind the stranger.

It was wearing so much armor that he couldn't tell more than that save for its thick muzzle poking out from the angled helmet that sat over its eyes. Its whole body was adorned with black interwoven tactical-looking plates. A triangular green Inglestoff logo adorned the right breast of the armor. Tufts of dark blue fur poked through the seams at the neck and arms. Its thick gloved fingers were capped with shorter black claws than its feet but looked just as vicious.

Lights flickered underneath the armor as the thing walked further inside, scanning the room. The claws adorning its large exposed feet clacked, almost metallically, against the floor. Triangular fur-tufted ears atop its head swiveled quickly and inquisitively, seeking out every sound. The creature's wide wet nose sniffed the air. It looked like a canine of some kind. Stan could smell its fur and the distinct animal musk it gave off. It was like nothing he had ever seen. He stared daggers at the intruder. His body ready to fight for his home, his territory.