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Ethan needed a boost. He was tired of Dean getting all the glory and attention on the team. Just because Dean was captain didn't make him the most important member of the swim club. He just happened to be the best looking of the male half of the group, five guys total. Dean had that naturally buff physique that only improved with regular training and exercise. It kept the captain from being the fastest, weighed down by his additional lean bulk, but the girls on the team didn't mind at all. They fawned over him like some kitten that just tumbled into the room head over tail. Ethan hated Dean for it. By any right, the faster member of the team should have gotten the girls. The fastest swimmer wasn't Ethan, but he didn't mind that little detail. He just resented the way Dean rubbed it in the team's face, boasting about each of his late night conquests.

"She moaned all night long," Dean would say in the shower, thrusting his hips and making his average sized member flop. Nobody ever watched that, they were far too straight to find any gratification in another man's junk. That was half the reason Dean did it, just to drive them all nuts. "And when I finally climaxed, like a banshee. Girl nearly popped my ear drums, but she was tight! Nothing like a virgin in the morning. But I suppose you wouldn't know about that." Dean would walk out laughing, and the rest of the team would do their best to ignore him. The next day it would just happen again - different story, same events. Ethan wanted to put an end to it finally.

To do that, he was going to need to bulk up. Ethan knew the drill behind health and nutrition. It was part of the training and knowledge required of everybody who tried to sign up to any of the college's fitness programs. He didn't enjoy keeping up with the eating habit, things like staying away from beer, or eating large amounts of lean protein such as chicken with no seasoning. College was supposed to be about having fun and letting lose, not following asinine rules meant to restrict him from having fun. Nobody would be able to tell if had a glass of beer now and again anyway, which he allowed himself once in a while. And some chicken spice made everything that much tastier. It was worth the tiny bit of chub that kept him at four abs instead of six.

The mall contained a vast number of health food stores, the kinds of places that attempted to sucker in food crazies who thought everything needed to be grown locally, organically, and without machinery. They popped up and died within the span of a month, a new contender always trying to make a name for itself by selling the same wares and getting nowhere like its predecessors. Ethan, used to the ever rotating names and images above nearly barren stores, paid them no mind as he headed for his normal stop, the Body Shop. They sold protein powder, creatin, all the things a hard working builder should consume. He only ever bought the protein powders, and even then rarely, as he tended to skip those intakes of nutrients. They all tasted like grit to him.

The clerk, a balding, pudgy man with a short scruffy beard, sat behind the counter, looking bored to tears by his job. Ethan approached him with a careful step. "Do you have anything that'll help me get bigger fast?" Ethan asked, gesturing to the rows of supplements behind him. "Preferably without too much lifting and hard work, and not too big. Just big enough to... well, just bigger than I am."

"What, like steroids?" the clerk said, turning to his computer, not even giving Ethan a casual look. "We don't sell steroids, if that's what your asking. Stupid kid. Those are illegal. We don't sell illegal things. Just buy some protein or something. I don't know. Do you have a real question?" Ethan could see the monitor. The clerk was playing solitaire. Disgusted, Ethan left. He made a mental note to remember to start shopping somewhere else.

Unwilling to try somewhere other than the mall he was in, Ethan caved. He walked into the newest health gimmick store, titled "Sea Breeze Health". Their schtick, as he quickly realized from the labels and designs in the shop, was aquatic based medication. Seaweed and starfish spines for calcium, fish liver oil from fish specially bred to secrete the substance without having to be killed for it. All sorts of wacky things which no scientist worth his sea salt could possibly agree was accurate. But Ethan was desperate for something, and he didn't feel like trying very hard to obtain it. Even the false hope of something was better than nothing at all, or having to exert more effort than was necessary.

"Come on in!" one of the guys behind the counter shouted, beckoning Ethan forward. The staff consisted of two males, one wearing a blue shirt and the other a green, each adorned with the same pattern of dolphins leaping out of water. Ethan couldn't see what they were wearing for pants, the pair hidden behind the wooden desk. They both had a short crop of hair, and as Ethan approached, he could tell that the one wearing the blue shirt had green eyes, and the one wearing the green shirt had blue eyes. Otherwise, to him they looked like twins - lean builds with little musculature, high cheek bones and pointed jaws. "What can we do for you?" They even sounded similar, nasal and high pitched.

"I'm looking for something to get me big, fast." Ethan scanned the sparsely stocked shelves. Anything this store had, others certainly wouldn't. Nobody would be so tacky as to make another health focused commercial business ocean themed. "I already use protein powder, but it's really not enough, and I need to get a bit larger." He tried not to look away when he caught the blue shirted man raise an eyebrow.

"We may have something in the back, actually." the guy wearing the green shirt said. "It's freshly in, just got it off the hot truck not ten minutes ago. The thing is," his eyes narrowed as he spoke, "you have to drink it warm, that's what it says on the label. Comes from the spout of a whale, and you know how large those things are!" The pair laughed at the joke, Ethan nervously chuckling with them. "It'll only be fifteen bucks for the small container. I'll grab it for you after you pay." Fifteen didn't sound like too much, Ethan could afford that in spades thanks to his parents' always shovelling money down his throat. He pulled the bills out of his brown leather wallet and handed them to the clerks. "Be right back," they said in unison before walking out the back door. Ethan's spine shivered.

He drummed his fingers on the counter top as he waited for the store owners to return. When they came back, the one wearing the blue shirt held a thermos in his hand, dangled on a piece of rope. "It's made of hemp," he said, proud of the idea. Ethan swiped it up as soon as the bottle was placed on the table. "Come back and let us know how it worked out for you, okay? We're gonna try some for ourselves too!" The two highfived one another, their motions perfectly mirrored. Ethan hurried out, not bothering to look back as the clerks headed once more into the back room. He clutched the container in the crook of his elbow, feet furiously carrying him through the mall.

Ethan drove to the school gym. The building closed down the pool to all non-swimclub members on the weekends, the perfect place for doing drugs with the other team mates. This time, Ethan wanted the privacy so that he could get a good solid couple of laps in before trying out the new supplement. There wouldn't be any place that he could keep it warm, unless he stored it in the sink with hot water. That solution seemed as viable as any, and the one he settled on after rejecting the idea of leaving it in the sauna. The latter would likely spoil the contents, the heated room too warm. A hot sink would suffice.

The blue sports-car pulled up to the pool building, freshly fallen snow from the previous night untouched until the wheels of his vehicle plowed through it, followed by the spaced footprints of his trot. He swiped the keycard taken from his jacket pocket into the electronic lock, the door beeping and opening inward to allow entry to the sport's team VIP. Ethan slammed the door behind him, jogging towards the bathroom, nearly slipping on the smooth tiles of the shower room floor. He dropped the bottle off in the sink, ran the water as he'd intended, and strutted towards his locker. The swim team had their own lockers, the five closest to the door to the pool itself, farthest away from the shower room. Ethan played with the combination lock, grabbed the gym bag inside, and opened it with nose upturned. The stench of stale chlorine still assaulted his nose.

Ethan removed the baggy polo and jeans he regularly wore, revealing a body nearly devoid of features, save for the four abs on his stomach. He donned his speedo, a white front with a black back, and cupped his junk. Another reason he though the girls should like him, he wasn't lacking in the sack, but he wasn't stacked either. Just the right size to be enjoyable by both sexes, a nice six inches, average and cut. His hand saw a lot of action, as did the porn sites he kept bookmarked on his laptop. Regular fantasies about supermodels bending down before him to suck his cock played in his head on the near nightly basis that he thought about getting some action. The pool water lapped at the sides of the enclosure, the open area empty, echoing with the sound of his foot falls. Even the lifeguards weren't around, a safety violation that the coach kept hidden from the officials.

He dived into the pool with the grace of a swan taking off for flight. The water split with barely a bubble to accept his body into the fluid, a man born to live his life surrounded and buoyed by water. Laps of front crawl passed without any sense of time or worry, the flow of exertion and pleasure coupled with a loss of the clock. When breathing became difficult, when his arms refused to do a proper windmill like rotation, when his legs couldn't be bothered to kick without bending his knee, that was when he stopped. The ladder in the shallow end assisted him in exiting the comfort of the warm water, his body shivering without that fluid layer to protect him. He walked as fast he could on the tile, fearful of slipping as he done with his boots on earlier. The speedo around his waist clung tight to his swaying hips.

The swimmer nearly forgot about the supplement he'd prepared. It wasn't until he was standing under the warm spray of the shower head that he recalled he had the liquid sitting around waiting for him, and more importantly, that he had left the tap running. As he rushed for the sink, puddles of water splashed under his feet, something he should have noticed odd in his initial entrance from the pool. Though the floors tended to have a layer of water atop them during the week, he was the only person in the area at the moment, so the floor should have been dry. When he reached the bathroom and the sink, the water flowing from the counter top would have compared well to Niagra Falls. The container bobbed merrily in the sink. Ethan trudged through the bathroom ocean and turned the tap off.

Ethan felt the damp thermos had retained its warmth from when he originally brought it indoors, pleasant in his hand, without the concern of scalding his skin. Now was as good a time as any, he reasoned. He could just go back to his shower - the shower he left running like the tap - after he'd consumed the fluid. The smell that assaulted him when he unscrewed the cap had him gagging, worse than the smell from his gym bag after a full weekend without getting any fresh air. Ethan plugged his nose, took a deep breath, and brought the bottle to his lips, wincing as the viscous stuff oozed into his mouth and down his throat. It felt like it was clinging to the inner walls, the taste of seaweed and ocean spray unpleasant when mixed with the salty bitterness. He chugged the full container before pulling it away, panting for air and the taste of something other than the supplement. He ran the bottle under the tap, cold water filling it up, catching the remainder of the white drink, the mixture diluted. Mercifully, the water killed the taste.

The container came with him to the shower: he didn't want to leave it behind. Even if the supplement did nothing, he still got a thermos out of the deal, which for fifteen bucks wouldn't be considered terrible. Holding the bottle in one hand, he tried to get shampoo into the other hand, having to awkwardly jab at the dispenser on the wall and hold his palm open underneath, then bring the barely soaped up hand to his head and work it into his hair. The third attempt at this, he smacked the thermos into the dispenser, getting shampoo all over the floor. With a grumble, he placed the bottle on the ground, able to use both hands for cleansing actions. With a decent amount of shampoo in his hands, he could actually get the cleaner into his scalp, work it in properly. Grabbing the fourth round, his eyes went wide when he noticed the large amount of hair stuck between his fingers.

Strands of hair lay scattered on the floor, some of them getting washed away by the shower waters. Ethan watched as more fell from his head. A tentative hand went up to check, and came back with even more of his brown hair. Panicked, unsure why he should be balding so suddenly and rapidly, Ethan left the water to the shower running to go to his locker and get his phone from his pants. He didn't even make it three steps before he clutched his sides and groaned, knees shaking as he attempted not to fall over. He blamed the supplement, food poisoning or something like that. He would sue if he survived, the determination to do so eased his fall to the ground. What little hair on his body remained washed off, slowly pulled towards the drain that it was clogging.

Everything ached. It felt like somebody trying to pull his skin together while simultaneously pushing it apart. The pain of his insides faded, replaced with something akin to a kick to the groin. His hands reflectively grabbed his crotch, a low throaty moan passing from his lips as he tried to keep tears from his face. Ethan fought to keep his eyes open, to keep from shutting them and bringing forth the liquid. When he saw the black splotches on his arms, how they were spreading across his skin along with the flow of water from the shower, he looked away, blinking and letting the tears come freely. His hand, however, could not resist touching the new marking and change in pigmentation. Where his skin was black, it felt smooth, far smoother than his normal skin. Another peak revealed how it shone in the water, glistened as if it were made to be constantly coated in the life giving fluid.

The pain dulled and died. He curled into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, feeling that same change in his skin across his body, his form covered in black and white, perfectly contrasting with one another. The white of his front blended in perfectly with the white of his speedo. Only through touch could he distinguish the two, one smooth, the other with a slight latex consistency. He kept his hand running over the transition of skin and speedo, barely perceptible, yet bringing him this slight sense of excitement. He wished some chick would come and touch him like this, to feel how his package wrapped up could be mistaken for his skin. He unfurled himself, lying across the floor, watching his hand play over the bulge fascinated. Nothing else mattered.

If he hadn't been preoccupied with his junk, he would have missed the feeling of it growing. The first twitch there made him think it was just an erection coming on, brought about by thoughts of blow jobs and continual stimulation. But it wasn't hardening, his speedo didn't tent, it simply grew rounder. His balls sagged lower, pulling on his scrotum, even sitting the weight of it had him grimacing with pleasure. He pushed himself up to his feet, keeping one hand touching it, feeling the palm forced away for more stuffing. Every little bit brought him closer to wanting to scream with lust. He'd settle for any mouth, just something to work on his growing endowment. But all too quickly for his liking, the pleasure ceased, and while what he held in his palm was enough to keep an average male happy, he wanted it to be bigger. Now it would only be confused for two softballs and a jumbo hotdog.

The mirror. He wanted to look in a mirror, to see what his form could be compared to right now. As he splashed through the water to the bathroom, he tapped his body for any peculiarities that he could find. Aside from the lack of hair, he found nothing on the side of his head - no ears. Confused, Ethan was alarmed until he realized he'd been hearing the clopping of his feet on the tile through the water. How he heard didn't really matter, as long as he could. The other big change he found was a protrusion from the back of his head. It ended in a point, and was sort of fleshy - it reminded him of his nose in texture. Until he saw himself in the mirror. He recognized the fin, and the colouring on his body clicked. It was that of an orca, just without the tail.

He checked his ass just to make sure that there wasn't a tail. His hands found a slight bump just above the back of his speedos. The tail was growing in, if a bit slower than the other parts of his change. Change. He was taking the whole change of being an orca rather peacefully after the initial pain. Something in the supplement, he reasoned. It was the only possibly trigger, and it came from the spout of a whale, he'd been told. Did the store owners know about it? He was going to have to check, wouldn't it be great if they turned into orcas too, he told himself? His cock throbbed at the thought of two other orcamen, the three grouped together, hugging, caressing, kissing. Ethan slapped himself to get his mind thinking about something other than cetaceans. His budding tail swished behind him, fins growing out of the sides of the tip.

His dick throbbed in the tented speedo, demanding attention. The material came off with a bit of stretching and maneuvering, the tight backside digging into his ass. Before he got it off, his eyes went wide as he noticed his cock, thick enough that he would struggle to get his hand wrapped around it. A two-fister, that's what the girls on the pornos he watched called it. He slid out of the speedo, kicking it to the side, revealing the pink fleshy tube and white balls hanging underneath. The sight of it in the mirror, the thin swimmer's body with large junk, had him smirking. Ethan watched the reflection, the way the hands glided over the shaft, his eyes never leaving the scene even as his brain tried to keep images of busty girls and bent over women looping in his head.

The pulsing of his muscles indicated something more was happening, though the view in the mirror told him what he needed - his sinews were expanding, pumping up with a sharply contrasted vein before settling down, only to repeat the process. This was the purpose of the supplement, its original intent forgotten in the haze of transformation. Now he revelled in, letting one of his hands stray away from his throbbing malehood to explore the newly discovered heaps of brawn. His biceps plumped even before he flexed them, bringing them up and posing only made the mountains of arm muscle peak higher. His legs, the most important part of the swimmer's body, packed on pounds, the black skin stretching and defining, creating striations that highlighted the four heads of the quadriceps. Without any body-hair, Ethan didn't have to worry about anything getting in the way of his muscular perfection.

Reflections weren't cutting it. He wanted to see it himself, with his eyes, on his own body. When he tried to look down however, his view became blocked by pectorals, large white plates of power stuck to his chest, pulling him forward and held in check only by the equally impressive lats of his back. The crevice between them, the crease of pecs, looked deep enough for somebody to stick a cock into, like a good titty fuck he always wanted to give a girl. Two thick, pink nipples hung from his chest, hardened nubs that awaited attention. His preoccupied hands continued squeezing his muscle and stroking his cock, the two things with the highest priority at the moment. The tail thumped the floor, heavy and powerful. A test to move it from side to side and lift it without his hands proved what he wanted to know about the new appendage.

Looking down wasn't going to get him a view of anything other than chest, a view that his cock responded favorably to, but wasn't enough for the horny orca. He glanced back in the mirror, watching the final change occur. His face pushed out, a slight rounding and merging of mouth and nose. His blue eyes, surrounded in white skin, gazed upon the magnificence in the mirror, two rows of sharp teeth lining the inside of the augmented orifice. There was not a trace of humanity left to be seen, just pure cetacean brawn. Ethan groaned, feeling his climax begin to peak, the stroking of his member backed with new-found strength.

Blast after blast of semen smacked the mirror, drooling down the reflective surface and pooling with the water of the bathroom floor. Ethan cried with joy, his voice coming up rough and deep, like rocks grinding together in a sinkhole. His chest heaved, lungs working overtime to take in air to feed the combination of pleasure and bulk, his head going light as he nearly drowned his thoughts in sexual euphoria. When he finally began to calm down, to relax again, several streaks of seed dribbled down the mirror, a white viscous puddle oozing its way towards the drains in the bathroom. His cock demanded more.

Something in the air caught in his nostrils, a divine, wonderful scent akin to the contents of the thermos. He got down on his knees, pressing his face up to the mirror, right into his cum. A curious sniff had him moaning, dick ready to go again. His tongue darted out, flicking over his essence, getting the taste of it in his mouth. An exact duplicate. No wonder girls loved giving blow jobs, he told himself. If it tasted like that, he would be happy to eat it himself. As he licked the mirror clean, he idly stroked himself. His body needed to be shared, somebody had to come over and enjoy it with him. Only once he'd slurped up every drop of his cum did Ethan get up and head towards the lockers. His hand never stopped playing with his cock.

He hit another orgasm just as he flipped open his phone, painting the tiles of the locker room floor white. That intoxicating aroma drifted towards his nose, making him rumble, fogging up his brain. He'd intended to call up Felicity, the one girl who found him more attractive than Dean. But the thought of showing off to his swim team buddies interrupted his judgement. He was probably bigger than Dean now, which would make him get all the attention. John would be the most interested in this turn of evens, Ethan decided. He located the name in his phone. As the phone rang, Ethan continued to stroke himself. It felt like no matter how much he would get off, he'd be able to cum again and again. John picked up on the other end to hear the sound of a deep male voice grunting.

"Ethan? You okay there? What's up?"

"John, come to the pool. I've got something to share with you. Fuck me, it's good." Ethan ignored John's attempt to continue the conversation. Ethan needed to let off another load.

John swiped his keycard through the electronic lock to the pool building. He'd rushed over as fast as he could after the strange phone call from Ethan. It wasn't uncommon for them to get high in the pool area, or take some form of elicit drug. Whatever Ethan was currently doing, it sounded like heaven to John. Strong smells assaulted the lean swimmer when he walked into the locker room, the familiar sharpness of chlorine, along with the scent of the sea. He sniffed the air again to make sure he wasn't mistaking it for something else, but the smell was there, pungent and overpowering. It almost made the chlorine seem faint, not something he would have expected from a pool locker room.

"Hey Ethan! Where are you? What did you score?" John walked between the rows of lockers, trying to find any indication that his buddy was there, but Ethan's lock was in place, and there didn't seem to be a trace of the fellow swim club member. John shrugged and opened his locker. They had passed drugs to each other through the slots in the lockers in the past. John picked up the yellow sticky note that fluttered out of his locker before it could get wet. "Take a shower," the note said. John figured he might as well follow the advice. In a worse case scenario with Ethan just hazing, John could still get in some practice swim time. John stripped down, exposing his lightly toned body and below average member to the open before grabbing a towel and covering himself up.

John displayed the most modesty of the swim club members. Dean said it was because John didn't want anybody to know about the little cock. To keep from having his shame revealed, John used the private stall in the bathroom, the one with smoked glass and an inside lock. The water didn't drain until he opened the door, but he tended to take reasonably short showers at the pool anyway. Even with nobody else in sight, John gravitated towards the comfortable location of his shower. Ethan could be anywhere, John reasoned, so no reason to take a chance at shame. John locked the shower stall door, flung his towel over the side, and turned on the faucet.

White water belched out of the shower head, landing in John's hair. Disgusted, he turned off the faucet, giving himself the chance to look at the shower head without fear of getting his eyes drenched. The syrupy fluid fell down to the floor with a thup, splattering at his feet. Confused, John turned on the shower again. More of the strange liquid poured out, at a much quickened pace. He turned it off, but the goopy substance continued to leak out at an alarming rate, faster than the shower normally expelled water. He turned to open the door and get out, unbolting the lock with shaking hands and pushing at the frosted door. It didn't open.

He shoved and pushed, and though it gave a little, it simply wouldn't open. By squinting, he could see something large and black blocking the door. He hadn't heard anybody dragging something into the shower room, and he hadn't heard footsteps either. "Ethan?" John shouted, banging at the door. "If this is your idea of a joke, let me out!" The sludge like water lapped at John's ankle, covering over toes and heels. It felt warm to the touch, pleasantly so. If it had been water he could have relaxed easily in it, but like this he was simply disgusted by the slime. Nobody responded to his cries for help, but he was sure he heard the big black object moan.

Stench overpowered terror. That sea like smell cloyed to his nostrils, filling up his head with images of oceans and rivers, of vast expanses of water, frolicking and play. It had the aroma of seaweed, mixed with salt and male pheromones. The realization of that last part nearly had John puking, as he figured out what the substance that was already up to his knees was - cum. He was standing in a shower that was filling with cum, an inexplicable amount of cum. "Ethan help!" John rammed his shoulder into the door. He kicked and punched at the glass. Nothing worked to remove the impediment locking him inside. At waist height, the stall filled with semen tickled at John's cock. The scent of male hormones bombarded his senses. He assured himself that the erection he was experiencing was simply a byproduct of those two factors, even in his state of panic.

He expended his energies on trying to escape, but to no avail. Climbing over the sides wouldn't work, the walls were too slick, and his body covered in semen couldn't hold on to anything without it gliding between his fingers. At chest height, John's terror spiked. Too tired to do anything more, with nobody to help him, he gave in. He didn't want to smell the thick musk anymore. He didn't want to hear the moans and grunts from the obstacle blocking the door. John surrendered, curling up into a ball, letting himself become submerged, fully expecting to drown in semen. Going under the fluid only made the fragrance of salty seaweed stronger. Cursing himself a fool, he tried to make it back to the surface, but his head couldn't clear the top, even when he tried to stand again. It was too thick to swim in. He was stuck, like a test tube experiment.

He held his breath for over a minute, but the smell got to him. He opened his mouth, taking in a gulp of the raunchy goop, feeling it fill his mouth, his throat, and providing air. The last thing startled him, he'd not been expecting to breath in the foul substance. He attempted it a second time, holding on to his chest to feel if his lungs actually worked, if he were simply hallucinating in his final hours. His lungs expanded, his chest puffed out, and air escaped his nostrils. His chest didn't retract, though. A third attempt at breathing proved this - his chest was keeping its engorged state even after exhaling. He tried to dig into it with a finger, feeling firmness meet his touch. With all the oddities going on, John wasn't sure what to be expecting anymore.

The murkiness of the substance impeded his sight. Everything was white when he opened his eyes, and the seed stuck to his eyes, stinging them when he tried to keep them open for too long. His hands kept exploring, finding the same sort of expansion occurring on body parts that weren't just his chest. His biceps were filling up, making it slightly more difficult to bend his arms. His legs spread apart, trying to make room for muscle and bulk. The adjusted stance had his feet touching opposite ends of the stall, bringing his legs any closer together made his quads rub together uncomfortably. It was more than just size that caused that problem, though.

His hands felt something like hair over his arms and torso, softer than that which he normally grew and shaved off regularly. The sprouting follicles rampant growth covered every inch that his fingers could find. Even the hair on his head took on a different texture, smoother, softer, much more enjoyable to play with and run his fingers through. It even covered his balls, a sac that he was pleased to find, despite everything else, was larger than it had been when he walked into the shower. His cock ached, begging for him to just take care of it and forget about the bizarre situation. John didn't want to yield to pleasure, not until he knew what was going on. But the smell, that oceanic aroma which he had found so disturbing, muddled his thoughts. He felt himself enjoying it, wanting more, fresher. Not this slightly stale version that came from the shower, he wanted the source.

The door swung open, the gloop washing out with a series of gurgles and splorts, slowly making its way to the drain. A tarn of cum lay on the floor, sticking to the feet of John as he took a tentative step out of the stall. He wiped his eyes clean with the back of his hand, allowing himself vision of his body. Looking down didn't help though, there was too much of something rounded and covered in a light tan fur for him to see past it. He tried to shove it out of the way, the firm globes unyielding, providing him with duality of sensation. It was his chest, the fur covered plates were his pecs. He glanced at his arm, finding the same colored fur, the thick muscle beneath it, covered with the glistening sheen. A part of his body tapped the floor behind him. He reached behind to find a tail, long and narrowing.

"I wasn't expecting an otter," something deep sounded. John turned around to find an animal like man standing with his elbow propped against the rank shower stall, one hand lazily stroking the thick piece of meat between his legs. "I'd hoped for another orca, but an otter is fine too." The orca took a step forward, his bodybuilder like proportions flexing with every subtle movement, legs forced to roll around one another to accommodate the muscled thighs. John reached down to his quads to confirm if his were equally large or not. "You're still good enough to fuck, John." The voice from the large male sounded like the waves of the ocean lapping at the shore, deep and seductive.

"Ethan," John spoke breathlessly, his own deepened sound shocking him. It reminded the otter of the river flowing along the rocks. "Ethan, what happened? What's going on?" John tried to keep his gaze upwards, looking at the orca's eyes, but the gaze kept dropping to that phallus. John tried to clear his thoughts of male equipment and male scent. He coughed, getting the taste of the semen in his mouth again.

"Don't worry about it, John," Ethan grabbed the otter by the shoulder, pulling the two together, their hard members grinding between their hips and lower row of abs. "Just enjoy it." Ethan had to tilt his head down to kiss the otter, their pecs making the action rather difficult, so large that their chests attempted to force them away even as Ethan held them together. John struggled, he tried to push himself away, to keep his mouth closed, but his brawn was no match for the orca's. The strong hand that gripped his cock that forced it into contact with Ethan's broke John. He moaned, his body shivering as they frotted. He wanted a girl, he tried to tell himself. That this wasn't what he liked. But he couldn't deny the pleasure. Ethan broke the kiss. "You'll love it after the third orgasm. Or was it the tenth? They sort of blend together now." Ethan's grin of sharp fangs had John weak in the knees.

John didn't know how to form words. His body quaked with the onslaught of sensation, the combination of musk and his buddy's body bringing him dangerously close to his first homoerotic release. John ground his teeth, bit his tongue, using every mental trick he could to hold it in. But his own slightly more pointed teeth only caused pain, and his balled up fists wanted nothing more than to reach forward and tweak the nipples of the orca. Ethan groaned first, a fresh splatter of cum coating John's abdominal region. The potent smell of it matched perfectly that which had filled the shower stall. John couldn't control himself anymore. He grabbed the orca's head and forced another kiss, deep and passionate, his body writhing in ecstasy as he loosed his first load as an otter.

His mind opened, his thoughts shifted. Though girls still played a small role in his head, gone were the skin and hair, replaced with shining pied bodies of black and white, toned muscles, large tails. Sometimes they had minuscule breasts, other times it was pure pectoral and cock, males to make other males seem weak. John barely noticed that he was getting close to a second orgasm, he was too busy making out with the orca, mashing muscle to muscle, wanting to feel that smooth skin on his own oiled fur, to have their bodies bend and rub together in ways he had only envisioned with females. When the second climax hit, the vision of females evaporated. There were only males left to dream about.

The pair parted their kissing with a trail of saliva and some residual cum. The poorly ventilated bathroom stank of their mixed fluids, largely consisting of Ethan's, though John could detect his own modified scent. His cum smelled like fish in the stream, coupled with a bit of spice and salt. If he wasn't so enamoured with Ethan's cum, John would have loved to partake of his own. His ravenous appetite for sex climbed higher, his enlarged cock still pulsing, looking for more stimulation and release. "Does it ever go down?"

Ethan shook his head while grinning. "I've been pumping non stop. How do you think I managed to fill the shower and still block the door?" Ethan tweaked the otter's nipple, causing another spontaneous ejaculation from John. Ethan rubbed the cum into his white stomach, getting the semen mixed in with the fluid already there, caking it into the cracks of his muscle. It intensified the general musk that radiated from his body. "Would you ever want to stop, either? We're fucking sex beasts." Ethan reached behind and grabbed John's ass, testing the tightness and heft of the bubble butt. "I want this."

John growled behind his smirk, thrusting his hips back and forth between the hand behind and the groin before him. "I have a better plan. You text Quintin. I'll text Matt. Then we fuck in the pool until they get here, dunk them in the water, and see what happens. Worse case scenario and it doesn't work we just force feed them your cum until they change." John squeezed out a few volleys of semen from the orca. "Our swim team will be state champions. We're made for the water now."

"And we look damn fine, too." They flexed for one another, pushing biceps together to compare size. Ethan's came out larger, though John didn't mind. Somehow it felt right for him to be smaller than his orca. As they headed for the lockers, hands on the other's cock, John never bothered to correct his thought: he belonged to Ethan and he loved that idea. They were going to have a good time until their companions came over. Then the party would get even better.

Quintin tapped his foot in one of the many puddle that were scattered around the locker room. He was waiting for Matt, the pair who took the majority of the trophies for the team. They were the fastest, the sleekest, and also the least likely to engage in conversation with anybody else. Quintin wouldn't have bothered to stick around if he hadn't received an explicit message saying that he was not to go into the pool until Matt arrived. It gave Quintin time to marvel over the mess, the smell, and the disarray of the locker room. Either the janitors hadn't cleaned up, or John and Ethan were toking up again.

Matt brushed past Quintin, not a word exchanged between them. In silence, they changed into their swim wear, Matt donning a red speedo, Quintin one of dark blue. They wore the same outfits that they consecrated the day of their inauguration into the swim club. Quintin rubbed his finger on the stretched out latex and gave his digit a kiss, his personal lucky rabbit's foot. Matt regarded the habit with a snort. They snatched up their towels and marched towards the pool, Quintin in front.

They stopped at the side of the pool, watching as the murky water rolled over the sides, overflowing the large basin. Quintin raised an eyebrow quizzically, though shrugged his shoulders. Considering the strange nature of the change room, that the pool should be slightly out of whack didn't phase him terribly. He gestured towards the water, offering Matt the right to enter first. Matt shook his head and folded his arms over his non-existent chest. Scowling, Quintin gestured towards the water more forcefully, tapping his foot in the puddle. Matt brought his fingers up and pinched his nose. The smell was off, now that Quintin's attention was drawn to it. The chlorine should have been more powerful.

Neither knew what pushed them into the water. They went from gesticulations to flailing and falling into the water. Their combined splash caused the dirtied fluid to fly upwards and out, landing on the poolside tiles. Quintin reached the surface first, gasping for air. Matt followed shortly there after, his eyes staring daggers at Quintin. "I didn't do anything." Quintin insisted, splashing water at Matt after the accusation. Matt huffed, and sent the waves right back to Quintin, the two engaged in a puerile splashing fight.

The bickering became more rough and tumble, Matt trying to shove Quintin under the water, Quintin attempted to get behind Matt and hold him in a choke lock. They were so heavily engaged in their play fighting that they didn't notice the subtle changes, that they weren't having trouble breathing no matter how long they remained underwater, or how their backs grew a thin, greasy layer of brown fur. Quintin managed to grab on to Matt's ankles and pull the latter under the water, the two of them facing each other in the murky pool. They floated, staring at one another, eyes wide as they viewed the changes in their own body copied in the other.

Their muscles took on definition, nothing bulky or large, merely the toned appearance of a regular athlete who knows how to take care of his body. Quintin watched the way the abs of Matt came into being, six breaks practically popping into existence out of nothing at all. Quintin reached a shaking hand forward, to test if what he was seeing was real, ignoring the hand coming towards his chest. He felt soft wet fur under his touch, fur that spread across his friend's torso, covering it in a light brown color. It spread towards his arm, down his hand, but when it became part of his own body, the brown was darker. Quintin didn't retract his hand.

They drifted towards one another, that initial touch the pole of their attraction. Quintin busied himself with the abs, caressing and tracing out the stones, running his webbed-fingers over the obliques that pointed straight into the rounded basket of the speedo. Matt took delight in scoping out the chest, running tight circles around the aureole of the darker colored otter, just before clamping down on it with a pinch that brought Quintin to a gurgling shudder. Bubbles floated to the surface of the pool. Their cocks met, contained tightly in their garments. The rough and tumble play form before took a more sensual tone suddenly. Though they continued to push at one another, they let their hands linger like in that original extended touch. Quintin tried to ensure that his hand was already in range of Matt's crotch, just in case he could find an excuse to cop a feel of it. While thinking just how to manage that, Matt made the first snag, bringing pleasure cascading through Quintin.

Strong arms grasped Quintin from behind, black and heavily muscled. The sturdy abs of the one behind blocked the growth of Quintin's tail until the mass moved back for a moment to allow the limb room to roll out. Then the pressure was back, a thick erection poking at Quintin's speedo. He almost chocked at the thought of getting penetrated and raped. Something in his brain clicked. The idea became appealing, desirous, his body working against his original impulse. He pushed his rump backwards into the stiff pole, trying to position his crack so that it lined up with the tip of the member. His dark blue speedo stretched tightly to try and accommodate the muscled ass and his own stiffened cock. The body pulled him to the surface, breaking the water with a soft splash.

Within arms reach, Matt looked to be in a similar situation to Quintin, save for the nature of the beast behind. Matt's captive had a similar tone of color to the two newly minted otters, but with a vastly superior musculature. The smaller otters writhed a bit, debating between giving in to the stiffies behind them or trying to fight the new instincts overwhelming them. Soft nibbles to the ears on their heads had them swooning, relenting and submitting to their fate. In unison, strong hands pulled down their speedos, the red and blue latex floating to the surface as the muscled orca and otter impaled their respective twinks. All four voices groaned, echoing in the otherwise empty chamber.

The bodies worked like they were made to go together, bigger muscled engulfing and surrounding smaller toned furred forms. The speared otters squeaked and pined for more, their brawny tops more than eager to plow the bottoms as vigorously as possible within the strange buoyancy of the water. Overstimulated, constantly on the verge of release, John and Ethan didn't have that long to wait before they were dumping their wads into Quintin and Matt, who in turn released their first loads of otter semen into the pool. The quartet moved together, trading gropes, squeezes, and kisss between them, Matt and Quintin never getting off of the cocks embedded inside their rears.

"Guess the otter cum makes it weaker." Ethan commented between grunts as he began pounding Quintin's ass with renewed vigor. "Or we didn't fill the pool enough."

"We'll test later. But I think I can live with a fucktoy for both of us right now." Matt and Quintin busied themselves with kissing as their molesters chatted.

"You know," Ethan said after his load filled Quintin a second time. "The store owners I got this stuff from said they were gonna try it themselves. You horny otters interested in getting another two in on this action? If they got the same stuff as me, we'll have another two orcas to dick around with."

The three otters moaned as they reached orgasm at the thought of having two more muscled cetaceans ramming thick cocks into their backsides. The semen that bubbled to the surface was the only answer Ethan needed. "Let's get in my car."

Ethan nearly crashed the car multiple times as the four changed males made their way to the mall. The two twinks making out in the back, combined with John's constant ministrations had Ethan firing a near continuous series of ropes of cum. Ethan had particularly enjoyed it when John started using his slightly elongated mouth to suckle on the large orca's shaft. They had to pull up to the side of the road for five minutes just for Ethan to calm down before he could get back into focusing on driving. The daylight hours were past, faded into the light of streetlamps and vehicles. If any of the other motorists on the road suspected anything odd about the car, the four inside didn't know and didn't care.

They pulled up to the back entrance to the mall, the facility closed for the evening. It took another ten minutes before they got out of the car, Ethan wanted to get some tail before heading out into the frigid air. John readily complied, the two squirming and maneuvering their bulk until John could sit on the orca's lap, wriggling atop the heaving shaft as the pair bucked wildly in the front seat to the chorus of Quintin and Matt sucking each other in the back. The car rocked on its wheels with the force of so much motion on the inside, squeaking as its rhythm matched the steady pace of John bouncing on Ethan's lap. They nearly broke the windshield when Ethan climaxed, causing John to extend his limbs in wild directions as his bowels filled once more with the glorious semen of his cetacean companion.

Their erections died for the first time since their transformations when they left the comfort of the car. Matt nearly ran back into the vehicle, attempting to drag Quintin along with him, but Ethan would have none of it. He gave them a reprimanding glare until they abided by his wishes. When he demanded that they follow behind him, side by side with the other's cock in hand, they complied readily, their tails lifting. John too groped for a dick to fill his hand, nabbing Ethan's and bringing the soft shaft back to firmness. Only John's cock went unheld as Ethan strode towards the service entrance to the Sea Breeze Health. Ethan rapped at the door, huffing out a puff of air that whisked away on a cool gust.

"Oh for fuck's sake," came a voice from within, muffled, with the gruffness of a cascading waterfall. "Look, we're closed and I'm kind of busy here. Travis, that's amazing! Look, can you come back tomorroooooo..." the last word petered out on a moan that had all four of the swimmers perking up with interest. They knew precisely what that sort of sound meant. Ethan grinned.

"Guys, open up! It's the guy who brought that thermos earlier. I brought some friends with me." Silence, followed by some muttered comments and a bit of banging made its way through the barricade. A lock clicked open, a tiny sliver of light pouring out the crack as the door pulled away from them. Ethan groped at John's cock, causing the otter to let out a lewd moan. The door swung open.

Two orcas, virtually indistinguishable from one another, stood on the other side, their bodies drenched in cum and sweat, their nipples raw from pinching and biting, malehoods bobbing at the sight of so much beef and sex. One of the pair took a step towards Ethan, reaching out to touch the muscles of the swimmer's chest. Ethan flexed, bouncing his pectorals, trying to show off that his bulk was just as impressive as the two orcas who owned the health store. When the exploring cetacean squeezed Ethan's right nipple, Ethan growled, jumping forward and planting a sloppy kiss on the other bodybuilder sized male's lips. The unoccupied orca laughed. "I think he likes you, Travis."

The otters piled inside, Matt slamming the door behind them with his tail before going over to the unnamed orca, getting down on his furred knees and taking the member into his maw. "Oh hell, and they're trained too. Fuck, how did you end up with otters?" Ethan pulled off of Travis, Quintin slipped in to take Ethan's place, working on Travis' cock as Matt was doing, the two otters holding hands as they serviced the larger males.

"You guys been going it all day? Isn't that incest or something? Fuck, that sounds hot." Ethan jacked his schlong as he watched the two orcas getting some attention. "I figured if it was whale sperm that turned me into this, I could turn somebody else into an orca too. But when I tried on John here," Ethan slapped the muscular otter's back, "he ended up an otter. Not that I'm complaining, they seem pretty willing to do whatever we want them to do." Travis and his friend gripped Matt and Quintin's shoulders, the orcas gushing forth with their creamy goods. Ethan sniffed at the air. The backroom stank of semen, similar to his own scent, but with more of a pine and cedar undertone then his own seaweed. Pre dribbled out of his cock as he inhaled the pleasant stench.

"You want to switch otters, Dennis?"

"No way, this one's amazing! You can keep yours, Travis. I'm sticking with this guy. His lighter fur just works great with my blue eyes."

"An otter for everybody, I like that. John, hun, come here." Ethan didn't give John a choice in the matter. The bulkier male grabbed his otter, pulling John into a deep and penetrating kiss, forcing his thicker tongue into the otter's mouth. John didn't resist, he simply melted, finding himself incapable of action outside of what Ethan did for him. "Hey John, lie down. I've got a plan." Ethan forced the otter to the ground, John doing the rest of the work and lying down on his back. With his legs spread wide above John's face, Ethan squatted, bringing his white balls down until they touched John's nose. The otter lashed out with his tongue, trying to lick the salty sac before it could pull away.

Ethan grew bored of the teasing after a few dips. He wasn't getting his rocks off, so it didn't serve any purpose in his mind. He allowed John to nibble at the bloated sac, plump with orca cum waiting to be released into the mouth of an eager otter. Bracing his knees, Ethan lowered himself down, lying down with his dick in John's face, and the otter's cock in Ethan's. His heavier weight pinned John, leaving the otter with no option other than working at the phallus in his view. John attended to it liked he'd been born to suck it, lapping around the mushroom like head, digging into the slit to coax out more pre, studiously avoiding using his teeth. Ethan was a bit more rough, but John loved it all the same.

Broken into three couples, an orca and otter pair, each coupling used the others as reference for how to work with their partner. Travis forced Quintin to lick at the orca's ass, to drag a soft tongue down the sweaty crevice formed by the black bubble butt. Quintin went all out, digging his nose into the glutes, sniffing and tonguing at Travis' hole. Without even touching his cock Travis blew a wad over Ethan and John, who just used the fresh supply of cum to help with their sixty-nine. Travis, in rapture, reached behind to force Quintin's head forward, locking the otter into the muscular cheeks, to force Quintin into tonguefucking the orca's hole.

Dennis plowed his ample cock into Matt's anal ring, the light-furred otter on his knees and hands as Dennis stood over him, slamming his dick to the root before pulling it out completely and jamming it back inside. The jackhammer style sex had those two making the largest amount of noise and fuss, Dennis trying to chain orgasms together so that one began as soon as another finished. Matt whimpered and begged silently for the pounding to continue, holding up his hand at one point to indicate he wanted a second cock up there if it could be managed. But nobody could comply at the moment, Travis and Quintin still occupied in their butt play while John and Ethan had moved on to passionate kissing and frotting.

Nobody counted orgasms. Nobody cared about who climaxed when or in what orifice. They simply rutted, trying to experience multiple types of pleasure as long as their oversexed bodies could handle it. The otters were made to bottom, Matt and Quintin constantly trying to find a way to please without having their cocks attended to directly. Only John showed some of the same dominating quality as the orcas, though he still fell prey to Ethan's desires and suggestions. John gave up his ass when Ethan wanted it, or offering to give a blow job when they felt the need to move on to something else.

Travis and Dennis worked towards trying to out do one another, to see which of their otters was the superior. Matt and Quintin stood face to face, their lips locked in messy kissing that tasted of cum, musk and the butts they had licked. Behind them, the orcas fucked the abused behinds, the otters' bodies slamming into each other with the pressure of the thrusts. Above Matt and Quintin's heads, Travis and Dennis stared into the other's eyes, seeing who would succumb first in the battle to produce the most semen, to breed their otter until the comparatively little male would burst with the fluids. Nothing satiated their lust.

Their energy lasted them throughout the night. They switched partners at some point, trying to experience the different combinations between them, in the end settling on the coupling that had kept them most occupied. Ethan and John lay in a corner, drinking from the other's shaft like their members produced life giving fluid. Matt and Quintin, finally worn out to exhaustion, slept in a ball, their tails resting atop the others hips, their dicks nuzzled together. Travis and Dennis took turns licking and fucking, getting the hole ready with saliva and cum for another plowing. When John let loose another salty bounty, Ethan pulled off, breaking the string of coitus that had occupied them for endless hours.

"So are you two brothers, anyway?"

Travis' laugh turned into a moan when Dennis worked a tongue between Travis' rump. "Nah, just buds. We spent a lot of time together, so we picked up the other's habits. We even had some threesomes with chicks, so the transition was easy. What about you guys?"

"We're the majority of the swim team." Ethan lightly stroked through the fur on John's head as the otter worshipped the orca's package. "I guess the filtration system at school should have cleaned the pool by now." His hips bucked into John's now masterful mouth. "We're just missing Dean, the guy who got all the girls. He's the reason I came to this store in the first place."

"You wanted to fuck him?" Dennis chimed in from behind Travis' ass.

"No, you slut. I wanted to be bigger than him." Ethan bounced his chest. "Your store rocks guys. Want to join the swim team? I think we can make room for you."

"Tempting offer," Travis said as he leaned forward, preparing for Dennis to start another round of hide the salami. "But you guys could work for us instead. We'll pay you in customers."

Ethan raised an eyeridge. "What's that mean?"

"It means - oh fuck that's perfect Dennis - it means that we man the counter, and if somebody wants to join us, we bring them back to you."

Ethan smiled. "I can live with that." John glurked as a rather large load of cum filled his mouth.