The Orca: Your First Fluke
This is a story about new beginnings, escape from the mundane and a whole lot of raunchy sexual intercourse. The reason for this is because there are forces, or perhaps currents, definitely not raisins, that have stayed dormant in our world for millennia. Something has now woken them up in our story, though I am not going to tell you what or who, not yet. We begin simply enough with the tale of man in his late thirties doing what he can to stay healthy and strong in a world that has become obsessed with how you appear to those around you. Your First Fluke Oscar enters the gym and loads a forced smile to the cute girl on reception. He flashes his card at her and she nods curtly, no real reciprocation of the smile as he trudges past her and down the corridor to where the secure lockers and changing room is. There are some things you need to know about Oscar. His tousled black hair and dull grey eyes are the only thing of note about his facial features, the rest being so bland and generic there is no point in even beginning to describe them here. His social skills and attempts at humour are even less impressive and this is why he does this to himself. When your beauty and your charm fail you, try to chisel that flabby, undisciplined thing you call a body into shape. At least that is what society tries to tell us, survival of the prettiest, wittiest or meatiest; all three and you are just showing off. The thirty seven year old opens his locker and begins changing by shrugging his jacket off. Other patrons of the gym are already joining him and Oscar begins to feel increasingly self conscious as delays by starting with removing what little jewellery he has on, such as his fairly expensive wristwatch. After setting the watch and a couple rings he wears down Oscar finally starts to unbutton and shake off his shirt allowing the sleeves to droop past his hands. Although not chubby, he does have a certain flabbiness which hides any muscle definition on his chest, across his gut and over his arms; though even so he knows that what muscle he does have there is not enough to constitute packing heat at any rate. The other men, many of them either leener or beefier than Oscar, do not stare or comment, but nonetheless he begins to feel ashamed about his body. But that is why he is here, to do something about his self-esteem with hard work and perseverance. Although he might have tried spending equipment to workout at home; but this is only his second time here. Oscar takes off his pants too before looking over the selection of some exercise shorts or a pair of speedos. After thinking about it for a moment he decides on the shorts, a spot of weightlifting on his mind today. They are a light blue colour, significantly baggy and do nothing to show off his mediocre package. The final apparel are a pair of cut off gloves for improved grip. All set now he starts to head towards the exit whilst occasionally glancing at the bodies of far more impressive men on the way. Unfortunately for himself one of the others notices this and he catches a wink from a tall guy with blond hair and washboard abs. This only results in Oscar looking away with a red flush and walking with a brisk pace out of the room. Small blessings mean that he fails to hear some laughter coming from behind him whilst making his way to the gym room where benches, dumbbells and more are waiting to be used. Being the early bird on a weekend morning means that Oscar gets to choose the least tarnished piece of equipment, though of course all of it remains in good condition for the members. So after selecting his weighs, starting with a five kilogram dumbbell he sits down on his bench and begins his reps. One, two, three, four, five, six, already his right arm is aching and perspiration glistens on his flabby skin. It becomes something of a nuisance as Oscar's shirt quickly begins to stick down to his chest, revealing not very Adonis like chest. Even more disappointingly it is around this time that some of the other men enter this gym room and start to select their own equipment. Their numbers include the blond guy who puts twenty on each side of a bench press bar and lays down to start a series of truly impressive reps. A feeling not unlike agoraphobia begins to encroach upon the skirmishes of Oscar's worrisome mind. Eyes are upon him, just as his eyes are upon those vastly more accomplished than himself. The gym it would seem is not Oscar's enabler, but a place for him to exposed his self worth like a bare nerve to a privately torturous hell only he can see, hear, taste and feel. And feel he is most certainly doing, as droplets of sweat begin to collide into one another and roll down his neck, arms and the back of his legs. In fact the bench he is sat on is beginning to feel a little slippery, or that might just be the shorts between his buttocks and said seating. However there is something else present in this room with Oscar. Beyond the invisible peer pressure and the self-hatred, there is another emotional force which is permeating the physical properties of reality itself. This is Oscar's lucky day, for something has taken notice of his thoughts and emotions. Even now something is tickling his ear, whispering words which are simultaneously alien and familiar. Oscar changes the weight to his other arm and shifts to start exercising his left bicep. But the voices carry on rattling around inside his head, subtle and just underneath his conscious thoughts they tell him to leave the weight lifting for now. As his left arm begins to ache uncontrollably Oscar finally gives in and sets it down, his entire torso drenched with his own perspiration whilst his hair uncomfortably is sticking to his scalp like a super glued toupee. He can feel the eyes that follow him as he stands up, leaving a somewhat wet looking patch on the bench, and walks across the room and back out into the corridor. Oddly enough he is beginning to feel less self-conscious, although now being away from the group is making that small improvement mute. Oscar goes all the way back to the locker room and finds himself all alone. Opening the locker he sees the swimming speedos he was considering before, and the voices influence him to change. The man does so, setting the now very soggy training shorts into the spot where the speedos were. These fit nice and tight, though they also show off his flabby butt and the underwhelming bulge in his crotch. Never mind, no one here to judge him. He also removes his pumps and shirt, stripping down to the point where only the speedos remain clinging around his waist. Oscar closes the locker and goes back into the corridor, this time going all the way down to the pool area. As he enters the spacious pool room he finds no one else here right now. Curious since normally there are a couple of other early fitness nuts who enjoy the wake up call swimming provides. Oscar shrugs dismissing the minor oddity as he circles around the pool, deciding to take one of the diving boards. Just now he realises he has not brought a towel and considers going back, but that influence compels him to stay and to go into the pool. So he grabs the bottom rungs of the ladder and starts to ascend the three metres up to the diving board this side of the pool. As he sets his bare feet upon the board it begins to wobble nervously. Oscar looks down and around the pool and the walkways around it, but any nervousness of being up this high is being overridden by that need to dive. One, two, three... A running leap and he throws his arms around his legs, curling them up for a cannonball. Oscar breaks the surface of the chlorine cleaned, bluish pool water. Liquid rushed around his ears as he opens is eyes and catches a few bubbles rising up past his face which he managed to push down into the pool from his impact. Folding his arms and legs out he begins to push against the viscous medium around him. In contracts to his performance when weight lifting, the flabby man is actually somewhat graceful when underwater, though Olympic swimmer he is not. Oscar feels his lunge begin to ache for a reprieve, so he changes his direction up and breaks the surface again to take in a lungful of air. But something is different. As he looks around the flat plane of the pool's surface, the man thinks he can see something else that is not supposed to be here. There are images like one film imposed over another which leaves a residual outline or silhouette. After images of faces cloud Oscar's vision and his subconscious mind suddenly realises that the voices have gone. Without any forewarning something begins to happen to the man's skin. Water begins to flow over his skin like he is underneath a shower. We are not talking about the part of his body submerged either, but water dripping down from his scalp, from his face and neck. A weirded out Oscar clasps his hands over his face only to feel the watery perspiration pour from his own skin, presumably from his pores, and push out between his fingers and over his hands. Not understanding what is happening he begins to swim to the edge of the pool. But water is pouring over his eyelids and it takes some time before he manages to find his way and starts pulling himself out of the pool. Oscar rolls onto the pool room floor even as his entire body seemingly explodes with water running off every inch of his body. Even his speedos are bulging out now from the pressure of water collecting there before escaping. He tries to cry out for help but his lungs are no longer filled with air but with water too. For a moment he contemplates the experience of drowning here and now, to be discovered as a bloated corpse I an hour or so by another gym patron. Tough just as things seem to be at their worst the inexplicable production of water stops. Even the water inside his lungs seems to vanish and Oscar lays on is back panting and staring up at the florescent lights. But the strangeness is far from being over yet as in the very next minute a furnace ignites in the deepest marrow of his bones. Oscar writhes around on the floor as an unbelievable amount of pain assaults his senses. His brain tries to compensate as best it can for this unusual Flu-like discomfort, but the sensation is beyond anything natural. He rolls over to be on all fours, attempting to either crawl or push himself up to walk, but even this effort is all he can manage with a gut wrenching scream. Looking down at his hands on the textured pool floor Oscar begins to notice something different. Focusing beyond the pain for a moment he realises that his hands and the floor are gradually getting further away. He is not moving, nothing beyond a slight wobble anyway, so as unreal as it seems there is one obvious explanation: his arms are getting longer. Indeed this is exactly what is happening, since the pain that is erupting from deep within is very bones is the sensation of an extraordinary growth occurring. Oscar's skeletal structure is growing in size, along with other alterations in structure. It seems as though his skin, fat and little muscle are stretching over the bones before his flesh too begins to increase in mass and surface area. He cries out in pain again, something else is happening near the lower portion of his back. Fighting the pain as much as possible he strains his neck to just catch the sight of something push up through the back of his speedos. A fleshy limb like protrusion pokes through the thin and tight fabric, increasingly becoming tighter too, and starts to grow as a natural extension of his spine. By this point Oscar's mind is reeling in a combination of pain and sheer disbelief. However the transformative process which is occurring to his flesh does not stop, but only continues to accelerate. Now the texture and colour of his skin begins to change, he watches in pained fascination as a black shiny skin replaces his previously pale human dermis. But the moment after this happens another shockwave of tremendous discomfort is detonated and Oscar's nervous system finally gives up, submerging his conscious mind away as the man passes out from painful exhaustion.
Oscar awakens to immediately realise something, or rather some things, are very different. He opens his eyes and blinks once, twice, thrice and takes a deep breath. However instead of feeling the air travel down through a twinned pair of nostrils, he is breathing through a single orifice which is somewhere a little above his eyes. He tries to move and finds five limbs respond all at once. For someone watching they might laugh as Oscar seems to flail around on the ground for a moment, not sure which impulses do what in his nervous system now. Slowly he starts to settle down and realise that he now has some sort of large, and very muscular, tail that he has to be careful not to thrash around whilst trying to get up. Small blessings though, he quickly learns to use it to help prop himself up from a sitting position to squatting and finally to stand up. He sways a little as he stands, blood settling into new areas of his body. Oscar looks down at his arms and hands, clearly much larger than before and with a striking black and white mixture. His hands of particular note have a rubbery black backs whilst white palms and fingertips. However it is his arms which suddenly give Oscar a thrill of excitement. Clearly defined muscle is packed all along his arms, with especially potent biceps and triceps growing larger as he cautiously flexes one arm whilst looking at it. Still, he is scared and confused and there is much more to explore about what has happened to him. Looking down across his torso Oscar finds his chest and abdomen are much less flabby, and far more sculpted than before. In fact he has an eight pack which looks as though he could smash rocks against it and not flinch. This trend is a running theme right down to his thighs and this only serving to excite him more, which is odd considering the remaining confusion. Another pleasant surprise comes now as he notices what is hanging between his legs. Although he will have to take a more thorough exploration of this particular asset later, from a cursory inspection Oscar is elated to find his masculinity has grown by a factor of four, or perhaps five, it is hard to know until he gets an erection. In fact the very thought of how large his male endowment might be is already starting to wake up the weirdly black and white member that rests external with a pair of orange sized testes, much like a human's might do if he were a giant. Remembering to check something though Oscar takes a look at what is behind him once more. A thick trunk of black flesh sprouts from the base of his back just above his buttocks and goes down to the floor before arcing back up. At the end of this tail is a flat and semi-forked flipper. Seeing this the final piece clicks into place inside Oscar's mind; he recognises the tail as being specifically a fluke tail. Combing one hand over his head he finds a smooth domed exterior with a single orifice waiting almost directly above. He pokes it tentatively and tries exhaling deeply. His findings settles it, somehow and for some unknown reason he has become a human-orca whale of some kind. Oscar looks at the ripped speedos on the pool floor and laughs; an odd way to get what he wanted.