Whitewash

A low, metallic hum filled the air. Not quite the buzz of neon lights or the call of bees but a strange, artificial noise that was both oddly soothing but also quietly terrifying. Wolfie Canem's long, brown, pointed ears swivelled back and forth trying to find the source of the noise but could only deduce that it came from all around him. The last he checked, such a sound should not be coming from anything in his bedroom.

This confusion sparked his curiosity and that lit a fire into his other senses. What he lay upon was far too hard compared to his mattress. Still warm from what must have been hours of lying on it but whatever it was felt firm, straight and likely made of metal. Muscles screamed with soreness from being spreadeagled across the harsh, steel surface. The still air brushed past his bare fur brown and cream fur meaning he was entirely naked. There was a distinct smell in the air; akin to medicine with a hint of cherry-like sweetness like one of those awful cough syrups that corporates advertised as being 'cherry flavoured' to mask just how terrible they tasted. When he tried to open his eyes, he found them firmly bound down by what must have been a blindfold.

"Where...?" he rumbled with a dry throat.

There was only silence at first then a soft chuckle. "I've heard of sleeping giants before but you certainly take the cake, Mr. Canem."

That was not a voice he recognised. "Who are you? What am I doing here?"

There was a high-pitched giggle. "I suppose I should introduce myself given the extensive resources that I spent to capture you." He felt a thing finger run across his chiselled jawline. "Surely you have heard of the Nexus Conglomerate?"

Wolfie growled and snapped out with his fangs at the finger. Blindfolded as he was, he could not see where the intrusive appendage was and missed. "I know_the owner of the _Conglomerate. He would never do this to me!" His ears folded back slightly. "Unless I asked... or it's my birthday... or Christmas... Or any major holiday really... But I'm pretty damn sure this isn't a special occasion!"

That high-pitched giggle again. "You're right. It isn't. And I bring the _Conglomerate_to your attention because I used to work for them. I believe they would actually call me a 'Rogue Asset'."

That was a term that the Conglomerate CEO had told him many times before. With the vast resources of the Conglomerate_and their motto of maintaining individuality, there would be those that would seek to abuse the interdimensional corporations' assets or use what they had learned for selfish gains. Those that veered away from the _Conglomerate's ethos and started to suppress individuality or mercilessly harvest realities were dubbed 'Rogue Assets' and were hunted down before they could deal any further damage.

"Who are you?" Wolfie spat.

"Ah, I see you're now beginning to realise the peril you are in," giggled the almost girlish voice. "I was once a man. A researcher for the Conglomerate. I admired the Director, you know. Quite the visionary. But so stupid. Individuality by its very nature is chaotic. Why have this immense dimension-spanning business without control? He gives people wanton freedom. Let's them do whatever they want with their own dimensions! He needlessly risks timeand space by giving anyone and everyone unlimited resources! There's no 'scientific method' in all of this! It's just chaos! Complete and utter chaos!"

"Just so you know, you're monologing like a real supervillain right now," Wolfie grumbled.

Again that annoying high-pitched giggle that was a little patronising. "I think I've earned the right. After all, I sent over fifty men to subdue you. It took all of them to bring you here. You are a fine specimen after all."

Two thin fingers curled around his nipples and he hissed at the voice. They retreated immediately with one more snicker.

"I suppose you're wondering what I want from you, eh?"

"If you want my cum, just had to suck me off," Wolfie answered with a savage grin. "You don't even have to buy me dinner first."

The laugh that followed was actually deeper, more masculine. It made him wonder if his captor was just using that girlish laugh to mock or patronise him. "No, no Mr. Canem. Your seed is indeed special particularly its ability to make others grow in masculinity and muscle. But the Conglomerate has similar forms and I am honestly not interested in it. My interest rests in that wonderfully durable body and will of yours."

The big bunny-wolf's features fell. "What?"

The voice chuckled again. "Are you aware of the Employee Respawn Insurance Network? The ERIN?"

Another term that the Director had told him off many times before. The Director liked his acronyms. "It's the system that allows assets lost for whatever reason to respawn at the nearest ERIN station. A guy could be completely atomised and he'll just respawn with all his memories intact back on safe soil. It even blocks off memories of the recent 'death' until after a trained psychologist gives the green light to release them."

"Exactly so! My you are well informed." Wolfie could hear the fluttering of feathers or maybe that was cloth somewhere and he felt the mystery man sweep past him. "You could be killed by being shot by a billion bullets and ERIN would resurrect you. You could be caught in the titanic explosion of a supernova that would annihilate an entire star system and just like that" - he heard fingers snap so his captor definitely had fingers - "ERIN would rebuild you, mind, body and soul."

"You could get your head crushed by a 600-pound bunny-wolf hybrid and ERIN would bring you back," he sneered back.

"How cheeky," giggled the man. "And yes. For employees. But for a 'Rogue Asset' like myself, the luxury of resurrection has sadly been... revoked."

And so a realisation dawned upon Wolfie. "You want to find out how I do it, don't you? How my body is so durable."

"Why yes! I knew you were a bright one." The man gently slapped Wolfie's cheeks tauntingly. The bunny-wolf's whiskers brushed against soft skin and he caught that cloyingly sweet scent coming off the man. Human perhaps. "I've read the notes on you. Your body can go through a lot of abuse. It can be mutated, transformed, grown, shrunk and even carry three completely healthy pups to term! Yet despite it all, for some reason you always survive. I want to know your secrets."

"There's no secret," Wolfie answered, absently shrugging. There was little movement he could make despite his broad shoulders but it confirmed just where the restraints were against his body. He chest was definitely held down and so were his arms and legs. His groin was surprisingly unrestrained. Thankfully there wasn't anything wrapped around his chest so that allowed his bulging pecs to be free and for him to keep breathing unrestricted. "Healthy living. Good food. Sucking dick. You should try it."

The man chuckled but gone was the high-pitched undertones. Perhaps his captor was losing patience. "In any case, I have brought you here to learn the secret of your immortality. I'm sure we will have a very enjoyable time together."

"Do your worst."

"Oh my friend, I intend to put my_best_ into this. I am going to strain your body to its limits. I am going to make every cell in your body scream for agony. By the time we are finished, you will either wish for death or beg for more. And I think we'll start with..."

Those bony fingers hovered around the bunny-wolf's nipples again.

"These..."

******

"Executor Grissom. We have a mission for you."

The voice of Singularity Assistant - Biomechanical Lifeform: Evolved or SABLE came over the speakers of the Malleus. The jet-black ship may have been made for one man but it was made for one man and his comforts. Spanning an impressive two hundred and fifty metres from its pointed, hook-like nose to the six engines at the back, the one-of-a-kind starship was built for the Executor Derek Grissom of the Nexus Conglomerate.

Located at the rear of the triangular ship above the main cabin, the Executor's quarters were completely submerged in water save for the single landing platform at the very entrance. The waters themselves were bathed in a soft, bluish-green glow and were filled with nutrients to help anyone submerged into it rest, recover and relax.

It was from these waters that Executor Grissom emerged. The big black pit bull glided out of the nutrient bath without disturbing the stillness of the liquid. His immense frame was covered completely in inky black fur save for the two white 'X' shaped markings on his body. One smaller X was drawn across his canine features, curling over his eyebrows to give him a more severe look and then just touching the edges of his muzzle. The second burst of white fur in the shape of an X was drawn across his immense pectorals though a good portion of it was lost in the muscular cleavage. Thick, pulsating veins crawled all over his immense arms, his titanic thighs and even his broad, mountainous back. Bright red eyes contrasted against the black and white of his fur.

Strangely, Grissom emerged entirely dry from the nutrient bath, his short midnight fur shining and glistening in the dim light. Behind him was a full view of the starry expanse of a dimension seen through heavily reinforced windows. As his large feet padded up against the landing pad, a black rectangle emerged from the floor beside him. The thick screen blinked briefly before letting out a musical note. The emblem of SABLE, the Artificial Intelligence of the _Nexus Conglomerate_in charge of direct asset interaction, appeared on screen.

"Good morning, Executor," greeted the gentle if a little emotionless female voice of the AI. "I have an urgent mission from the Director himself."

"The Director?" rumbled Grissom in his gravelly voice. "It must be urgent." He reached for his large, engorged pink nipples and gave them a little squeeze. White fluids came pouring out of the fleshy nubs and instantly started curling around him as if possessed. Thicker than even milk, the goo lashed over his body, binding closely to his skin. It wrapped around his shoulders, wound against his back and then unfurled into a long coat tail behind him. The long, white coat was mostly indistinguishable from glossy fabric though it occasionally undulated which belied its true, liquid origins.

"What's the mission?" asked the Executor, padding out of his personal quarters and into the elevator.

The black monolith slid soundless into the floor and appeared right beside him in the small elevator just as the doors closed.

"A personal friend of the Director's has been kidnapped by a Rogue Asset. This Asset has been detected as having last been seen within this reality. As the only Executor within a ten-jump radius, you have been tasked with this mission."

Grissom rubbed his chin thoughtfully as the elevator hummed softly and took him to the main floor of the Malleus. The doors opened and he was greeted by the sight of what he liked to call his 'Nest'. A large, horseshoe shaped table sat at the very centre of a broad, circular room. The walls were covered in various screens save for where he entered and the short tunnel to the cockpit of the _Malleus._There was also his fern - Charon - which set right next to his desk.

He padded over to the table - first picking up the tin watering can sitting at its edge and watering Charon - before making to sit at the centre of the horseshoe. A black, reclining chair emerged from the floor beneath him where he parked his rump upon before he fell. The moment his little tail rested upon the cushiony surface, holographic displays began appearing all over the desk and the overall lighting dimmed to provide better visibility.

"Wolfie Canem," mulled the Executor. "Head of Heretic Corp. How'd he of all people get kidnapped?"

"Unknown," answered _SABLE_shortly.

SABLE not knowing anything? Usually the AI worked with four other AIs that could help identify mission parameters and for them not to know anything about the situation made Grissom wary. The rogue asset was likely very powerful or had a lot of influence.

Grissom turned to the dossier of the same asset.

"Keening Hartley."

"Formerly a Dimensional Director of a reality not too far from this one. Had a vested interest in dimensional merging."

Grissom lifted an eyebrow and glanced to his left where the ever-present black monolith stood. "What now?"

"There was a train of research that agreed that while dimensions have value in development within isolation, combining the attributes of dimensions could provide interest results and assets. Think of it as first tasting two ingredients and agreeing they are incredible before cooking them as one and obtaining a different result."

There was a holographic display of a carrot and bacon hovering in front of him. This was followed by the bacon being wrapped around the carrot and then being put in what appeared to be some sort of oven. What came out was something that would either make a vegetarian weep or a dedicated carnivore hate bacon.

"That's... interesting."

"And potentially difficult. The Conglomerate does widely experiment in dimensions with only little variations which allow for close correlation between those realities but to truly merge one reality with another is extremely complicated. A carrot in one world could be considered a common food while in another it would be extremely rare. Conversely in another, carrots could be the undisputed overlords of the entire universe. Merging two or more levels of existence could easily lead to dimensional collapse."

'Dimensional collapse'. It was a term that was synonymous with genocide. As an Executor, Derek Grissom had seen his fair share of Collapses. Often it was his job to get in to a reality on the verge of collapse or in severe danger and either get every out of their or eliminate the guy that was causing the collapse. Such was the life of an Executor. Those judged guilty of dimensional collapse were seldom given mercy.

"Risky business," he commented. "Did he go rogue because he collapsed one too many realities?"

"Unknown."

There was that word again. The lack of information was greatly disconcerting.

"Any theories as to why he'd want Mr. Canem of all people?"

"Like the Director, Wolfie Canem has built an enterprise that spans various realities. Analysis suggest that Hartley may be interested in establishing something similar. Conversely, Hartley has a sense of identity dysfunction in that he finds it impossible to identify with certain people, social groups or even gender. One would call him a social chameleon but at the same time a sociopath. His dossier notes that he feigns a sense of responsibility and care for his subordinates but it is all an act to spurn his workers to push themselves for him."

Grissom turned back to the holographic dossier that showed that thin-faced and almost hawkish Hartley staring straight at him with a faint, malicious smile in his deep, black eyes. "How'd a guy like him ever get into the Conglomerate?"

"Different personalities offer different perspectives. The mind of a psycho often yields interesting results."

"Right," Grissom muttered in exasperation. "Sometimes I question our recruiters and HR department." He waved dismissively at SABLE. "Whatever. Give me the briefing."

The two dossiers vanished from in front of him and a document appeared before his red eyes. The Director personally wrote the briefing and specifically instructed him to retrieve Wolfie. No cost was too great for this endeavour. The men under Hartley's command were considered rogue and disposable. They had all been cut off from ERIN and thus could not respawn. Ordinarily, such assets were considered for capture but kidnapping Canem clearly pissed off the Director because the CEO of the Conglomerate had called for the total extermination of everyone in the underground facility with the exception of Canem, of course.

As tempting as it was to call down some Operatives or Agents to help him in the fight, Hartley was clearly capable of interdimensional travel and if they rushed the facility that was isolated in a lone, uninhabited desert planet, then he might just flee. He had to attack alone and go in quietly. There were no blueprints available of the facility itself. But that would not be a problem for an Executor. 'Unknown' was flashed over several statistics such as personnel count, weapons and defences.

This was a stealth mission.

That was all Executor Grissom needed. "Set a course for the planet, SABLE," he instructed. "Once we're within sensor range, activate stealth. Get me as close as possible. I'm getting ready."

"Understood. Initiating drive engines."

The Malleus hummed and jostled slightly as its powerful drive engines hit faster than light. Grissom barely felt the ship shudder after that. A timer appeared on his desk indicating that he had about two hours before he arrived at the planet. That gave him time to prepare. The Executor slipped off his chair and stood. The floor to his left and right instantly began to unfold to reveal a flight of stairs leading down into the depths of the Malleus.

He quietly strode down to the belly of the ship, following the curving stairs into his Zen Garden. The sand, polished stones and meticulously maintained bonsai trees occupied the entire room. While not as big as his Nest, it made for a nice little atrium to either the engineering room near the back of the ship or the weapons bay towards the front. His keen eyes picked up one leaf that was off from one of his bonsai. He pressed a paw against the wall right beside his garden. There was a brief flicker of bright circuitry before the wall itself slide aside to reveal his Zen garden tools including his tiny clippers for his miniscule trees.

With practiced paws and infinite patience, he moved towards the protruding leaf and gave it a tiny snap from the clippers. Satisfied that the tree was now perfect, he turned towards the forefront of the ship. Between the two curling stairways was another door that led into the weapons bay of the Malleus. The massive door big enough to fit several busses wide slid open upon his approach.

Beyond was a long warehouse-like chamber that was dominated by the Imperator-Class_orbital cannon. The _Malleus wasn't a ship built for dogfighting. It was an executioner. While it had a few forward guns that were just visible to the sides of the chamber, the massive cylindrical shape that was the Imperator was it's main, hidden weapon. Upon command, the bay doors could slide open to reveal the enormous cannon which would slowly unfold and push past the Malleus' cockpit. The cannon was capable of firing a single, sustained blast of concentrated Variable Dimension Energy. The beam could rip through any object as if it didn't exist. Larger models of the Imperator could even obliterate entire planets. The Malleus had one of the smaller variants but it could still level an entire building.

Just before the Imperator, however, were the various workbenches that Grissom maintained in case he needed some tools for his missions. He approached one of the benches in particular. Though he was unsure what kind of experimentation or torture Wolfie Canem was undergoing, he was pretty sure the poor guy would need some nourishment and rapid healing. He plucked his favourite weapon - which he called Delilah - from where it rested on the workbench.

Delilah was a custom handgun. The slick, black frame looked like a typical Tyrant handgun with its blocky frame, hand guard over the grip and clip in the grip itself. However, it's muzzle was extended by a short silencer that nullified most sound and was specifically built for the special ammunition that Grissom liked to use. Unlike the kinetic rounds that most Executors like to use, Grissom preferred the special pellets - no bigger than an average bullet - that he quickly injected into the magazine. Delilah fired biodegradable needles from it muzzle at the pull of the trigger. The needles carried the payload in the pellets across impressive distances and injected themselves into organic matter. The needles would immediately dissolve in the bloodstream but the toxin that they carried would spread into the victim. Most of the time, his targets would feel like they had just a tiny pinprick before the toxin took effect.

He tucked the gun in the inner breast pocket of his organic coat, shuddering at the touch of the cold metal against his banded, muscled chest. His red eyes briefly glanced at the two Nihilist-class Phase Cannons that were perched on the far left and right of the weapons bay. At a moment's notice, the two cannons would unfurl out into the wings of the Malleus. The cannons were capable of firing powerful 800 mm Phase Rounds from long barrel at near-relativistic speeds. The rounds themselves would phase shift a millisecond into flight and the moment it approached its target it would phase back into reality and tear a hole through anything but the thickest of hulls. Such technology was great in dogfights as it made sure that the rounds could not be intercepted. Not so good however in infiltration situations.

The Executor turned away from the weapons bay and headed back through his Zen garden to the other end of the ship; towards the rear. The big, metallic doors slid open to reveal the massive reactor room and engines of the Malleus. Contained behind a large, metal cylinder was the powerful core of the Malleus. Existing between multiple realities, the core itself was capable of pulling the Malleus from dimension to dimension while also providing power to the entire ship. Naturally, Grissom was protected behind a barrier to avoid being ripped to shreds by the fluctuations in the laws of reality.

Several metal pipes led from the cylinder towards the six tube-like engines that lay in a perfect row against the rear of the ship. An eerie blue glow emerged from the exhausts of the engines as they quietly and stealthily propelled the ship through space. Being based on stealth, the Malleus was painted in a reflective coating that made it nearly invisible to the naked eye. It would only be truly visible if someone were to look at it from behind where the blue glow of the engines would be visible.

The engine room also provided a secondary function apart from just providing power and the means of propelling the ship through time and space. Of all the rooms in the entire ship, the engine room was the one that was ominously quiet. Grissom remembered that it had something to do with the fact that the multi-dimensional core was constantly screaming through different realities and could bring noises from one world to another. The clear barrier nullified all sound from the core and had a similar effect to the surrounding room. Even Grissom's footsteps were heavily muffled as he stepped up towards the large, brown, leather couch that he had set up there alongside rustic bookshelves and a cabinet filled with all the alcohol he had collected from various realities.

With time to kill, Grissom poured himself some expensive bourbon he had bought from a world were 'bourbon' meant 'alcoholic-drink-so-smooth-and-mellow-you-will-feel-like-jelly'. He only gave himself half a glass of the stuff before gently sipping it and parking himself on his couch. The bourbon did its work and he felt very relaxed. Through sheer force of will alone, he kept himself from liquefying where he sat and plucked a book from the stand where a lamp sat. He was halfway through Jane Eyre and picked up where he left off.

The hour and a half to his mission went by too soon.

"Executor, we have arrived."

Grissom lifted a finger, ordering_SABLE_ to silence as he finished the paragraph he was on. Once done, he set down the book, finished the rest of his bourbon and headed back up to the main level of the ship. Past his Nest, he headed to the front of the ship down a short hallway and through the doors to the cockpit. Built for a single person, Grissom sat down at the lone seat with a horseshoe shaped console in front of him filled with blinking lights. The walls were curved just like the console and he beyond was revealed the vast expanse of space and the yellowish-orange planet that Hartley was currently housed.

The Executor rumbled softly as he watched the Malleus approach quietly, silently.

"Any other inhabitants of this planet?"

"Negative. The planet is entirely deserted save for Hartley and his troops."

"Environment?"

"Originally it should've been highly toxic to humans. The atmosphere should have been so thin that solar radiation would've roasted anyone on the surface. However, current scans reveal intensive terraforming has executed. The atmosphere is stable and able to sustain human lives while a powerful gravity field has been applied that offers some degree of radiation protection. Humans won't be able to survive for more than a week unprotected on the surface but with sufficient measures, they could exist indefinitely."

Grissom frowned at the black pillar that had appeared beside him. "And this passed the Conglomerate's scans?"

"Yes and no. The planet was last scanned two days ago."

That set off a lot of warning signs. "Terraforming takes years. Centuries and even millennia." He frowned and leaned forward. "And you're talking about humans alone."

"Yes. Hartley has only employed humans."

His red eyes narrowed. "That's... interesting. Bring us in."

******

The blindfold was removed but it did little by way of providing any more information to Wolfie. Wherever he was, his captor's sickly sweet, medicine-like scent was everywhere and a single spotlight fell down upon him from above which made peering into the murk beyond nearly impossible. His ice-blue eyes were forced to squint at the vague blinking lights that hovered to his left and right. It was strange that his kidnapper hadn't restrained his head so he was free to swing his muzzle left and right. In either direction, the scene was the same.

There were his big, brawny arms, restrained both across his biceps and wrists by thick, metal restrains. A metal bed of sorts built specifically to his dimensions pressed up against his triceps and forearms. The bed itself was vaguely humanoid in shape - built to look like a spreadeagled man. There was even a hole right down the middle to expose his tail and his juicy rear. That left his ass feeling oddly cold in comparison to the rest of his body.

"So before we begin," came that arrogant voice again, "just to confirm one last time. You have absolutely no intention of surrendering your secrets to me?"

Wolfie snarled. "Just what do you hope to accomplish, huh? You want your own dimension free of the Conglomerate? Is that what you want?"

That high-pitched giggle followed. "I thought I made it clear? I want to be immortal - indestructible - just like you."

"Bullshit." There was silence from the mysterious owner of the voice so Wolfie continued. "We both know that immortality is just the first step. You get immortality, you just open yourself up to torture and a whole slew of terrible things the Director and I can do to you when we catch you. There's no use being immortal if you're powerless or don't have a purpose."

The girlish snickering was really getting on Wolfie's nerves. "Oh my. Such a clever little hybrid aren't you? Well I suppose you caught me. Yes, indestructability is just the first step in my master plan. But if you think I will go monologing about what exactly that plan is, then I'm afraid you are sorely mistaken. But I will say this though..."

Wolfie heard some form of metallic whirring coming from behind him and he instinctively clenched his ass.

"... I want it all."

Something cold, hard and cylindrical pushed itself between Wolfie's muscled butt cheeks. It stopped momentarily when it felt resistance from the bunny-wolf and that seemed to trigger the faintest of girlish giggles from his captor. The intrusive device pushed in further, squeezing into Wolfie's crack. He felt the invader press up against the rim of his ass and the cold metal made him clench even tighter. The faintest hope of snapping the metallic device in his iron-hard buns were left unfulfilled as the machine let out a louder whir and began pushing into his ass.

"Fffffffuck..." Wolfie groaned, clenching his teeth together. His cheeks began to burn with effort. As terrible as the situation was, the sensation of being penetrated was undeniably arousing. Blood began pushing towards his dick despite his mind screaming against his instincts. Thick veins began throbbing all over his black cock; only encouraging the flow and his member to grow.

As the strange machine pushed deeper into him, Wolfie resisted the urge to buck his hips. Strangely, his lower torso and thighs were unrestrained meaning that he could very well pull away from the machine and spear himself onto it should he want. The restrained bunny-wolf refused to give his captor that satisfaction. That didn't stop the device from pushing in deeper and deeper. His body instinctively wanted to push it back out but it continued to invade him, continued to drive deeper.

The whirring abruptly stopped. What replaced it was a sound like a faucet running. Before Wolfie could even consider what was happening, he felt some strange liquid start pouring into his ass. It was warm, at first, but then it began to burn. He grit his fangs together, seething and grimacing. It was as if acid had been pumped into his ass!

"Don't mind the pain," came the childish giggle. "It is fleeting."

True to those words, the burning sensation faded a second later and he was instead left with a strange sense of warmth radiating from his ass. It was pleasant and oddly soothing. The memory of the pain made him shift his hips a little to allow the liquid to slosh around his anal cavity a little.

"What you've been just been filled with is a stabilising serum. It hurt momentarily as it rapidly adjusted to your unique biology. In theory, it can be applied to anyone and it will make them highly receptive to whatever alterations follow. It was originally developed to lower the probability of rejection from organ transplants. But I've found a... different use for it."

The heat from his ass began seeping through his veins. He glanced down at the sound of his veins pumping - a sound halfway through a deep growl and a loud gurgle. Thick, glowing blue veins pumped out from his as, branching out all over his abdominals and down his legs like a bizarre, alien tree rapidly spreading its roots all over his body. They pulsed with his racing heartbeat. A whine left his muzzle as the veins scrambled down his throbbing dick. He couldn't help but buck his hips, thrusting his engorged dick into some invisible orifice in the air. The jet-black member crawled with glowing, blue veins as it reached its full length and drooled precum from its bulbous head.

Wolfie grit his fangs together, fighting the overwhelmingly arousing sensation that crawled throughout his body but it was a losing battle. The veins swept up his washboard abdominals, cresting over his pectorals and seemingly coalescing towards his nipples. He could feel the fleshy organs hardening and becoming more and more sensitive to the cool air in the air. His lungs began to burn with need for air and he was forced to take a breath. That only allowed the serum to seep through his veins even more. It bled through his thighs and down his calves. With his cock begging for release, his toes curled and twitched in pleasure. Each little movement allowed the serum to advance more and more. The warmth from the venom bled to the very tips of his toes making every little movement from his legs send a shockwave up towards his crotch that would leave him mentally pleading for release.

He tried to thrash his head from side to side, trying to keep the serum from his brain. The blue veins crawled over his restrained arms and no matter how much he tensed the massive muscled there, it was impossible to keep the serum from sweeping over his bulging biceps, his tremendous triceps and over the valleys of his fabulous forearms. Fists clenched, the sound of peeling leather filled his ears as the veins all over his paws bulged with their complete infection with the serum.

Wolfie's eyes sprang open and he let out a silent scream. The serum swept up his broad neck, crawled up his chiselled jaw and swept over his features. Hot, tiny fingers closed in around the corners of his eyes. He could feel it bleeding into his brain, dulling his thoughts and only filling him with an overwhelming desire to orgasm. His incredible will could not be so easily defeated, however, and though he felt the veins close in around his lips, he continued to grit his teeth and snarl at the phantom within the shadows.

"Now then, Mr. Canem," asked his captor. "Are we ready to obey?"

"Fuck you," he snarled instantaneously.

That girlish giggle emerged. It was a grating sound to him. If it weren't for that annoying noise, he was sure he'd be that much closer to giving in. "My, my. Your ability to maintain a sense of self is truly remarkable. The serum was always meant to be applied in small doses and make the process of flesh melding and mutating to accept transplanted organs pleasurable instead of painful. Introduced in doses such as yours, it would easily break the mind of any man. It would seep into every part of their body and make every organ susceptible to change. Every organ. Even their brain."

"Let me guess," Wolfie snarled. "That's exactly what you used to brainwash all the fucked up lackeys that you threw at me."

"Very observant! And yes, you are very much correct. That was indeed the means by which I made my men subservient to me and opened up doors to their evolution. Sadly, evolution is wasted if one does not have a direction to go to. History is filled with evolutionary dead-ends, after all. That's how entire species go extinct. But that's why we're working together, isn't it, Mr. Canem?"

"I repeat." Wolfie found the strength to lift his gaze and though he wasn't sure where he was looking, he was sure the ghost in the darkness knew what he intended. "Fuck you."

"Indeed. Now the next part may... hurt."

There was a sudden, loud, metallic clanking noise_._ Unable to turn his head, Wolfie could only guess what that could mean. Main suddenly erupted from his wrists. It felt like someone had driven nails deep into his wrists!

"A device of my own construction," boasted his captor. "Inspired by medieval torture devices and basic science. I could've just as easily injected my second serum into any of the bulging, brightly coloured veins all over your body but there is no theatre in that. I'm bringing the idea of a 'mad scientist' back!"

Wolfie tried to glance towards his arms and there was a loud metallic clank next to his ears. The restraints on his head seemed to loosen a little and allowed him to see what appeared to be a sort of metallic ring had encircled his wrists, just below the restraints. That very same ring had a series of spikes pointing inwards towards his flesh. The spikes were already buried into his skin. There were tubes springing from the restrains but they were currently empty.

"Now brace yourself."

The entire horrific device suddenly plunged downwards and buried itself into his skin. This time, he did scream. The pain was excruciating and his made his paws clench and freeze.

"Ah but we aren't done yet."

There was another metallic clank but its time it came from lower in his body, around his thighs. Without warning, that same pain burst from his quads as he felt the metallic spikes drive into his skin, plunging right into his skin. He barely had a second to catch his breath before the second wave hit and the cruel restraints slammed against his muscles, the spikes driving deep.

"Last one, Mr. Canem."

His eyes bulged when he saw noticed the dark restrains rising out from just beside his neck! They summitted right between his eyes, the spikes aimed directly at his neck; he could feel their pointed, sharpened tips hovering just over his fur. It was impossible to breathe properly as a single movement from his neck brushed up against the tips.

But he would not beg for mercy.

The first wave hit. The spikes dove about halfway into his neck, forcing him to choke. Strangely, he remained conscious even as the pain caused his vision to blur. Oddly enough, he expected that it would be impossible to breathe at all as the spike - at least two inches long and thing - would've severed his windpipe. When the second wave hit, he gasped and could feel his lungs fill with air uninterrupted.

"Nanomachine restraints," explained his kidnapper. "The spikes are made of special nanomachines that dissolve into the bloodstream but maintain a connection with the restrains. In effect, if someone were to try to pull you free of that table, they would have to do so at the risk of pulling out half of your circulatory system."

Again that girlish giggle.

"You are not going anywhere, Mr. Canem. Ever." There was sharp click like someone snapping their fingers. "Begin the second phase."

A clear fluid began pumping through the tubes of the nanomachine restraints. Though his vision was mostly blurred, Wolfie could still make out the thick, bile-like substance seeping through the tubing and disappearing into the metal collars. There was no familiar sting of fluids being injected into his bloodstream like if he were to be injected. Instead, there was an odd 'filling' sensation like he was bloated in every vein or artery.

"The nanomachine restraints also act as an effective means to distribute a wide variety of my serums," came the giggling explanation. "The evenly spread the formula through your bloodstream. It stops any sense of discomfort as normally, if I were to inject you with something, it would work its way through your system from the site of injection. It would take too long to progress through your entire body and I've had situations where the transformation caused the subject to become... lopsided and they harm themselves."

Something occurred to Wolfie but he couldn't offer it much though as whatever it was that his kidnapper injected him with began to take effect. He let out a thunderous roar as he felt his chest muscles tighten. The already steel-like muscles there hardened and flexed until every single sinew and striation across was visible against his creamy fur. The veins all over his pecs bulged and he moaned as they seemed to all focus and coalesce towards his already sensitive nipples.

He moaned louder, his vision becoming a blur of sweat and arousal. The enormous bunny wolf barely registered that he was still thrusting his hips into the air. Every jerk saw his hips come crashing back against the exposed back of the table and the invasive metal rod that was embedded deep into his ass, only heightening his pleasure. As his painfully erect cock fell back, he thrust his chest outwards. His heartbeat throbbed out from his nipples, beating rapidly and mirroring the intense sensations that were emanating from his cock.

"Wh - what are y - y - you d - d - doing to me?" he stammered, thick drops of saliva running down from the corners of his lips.

"Testing your limits, Mr. Canem. Testing your limits."

Right before Wolfie's eyes, he could see his pectorals surge and undulate. It brought back to mind the time he had given birth to his sons but this was different. There was no joy of life within the muscled sacs. This was artificial, unnatural. He shut his eyes, trying to block out the sensations but that only made him focus more on the throbbing sensation in his chest. He tensed his pectorals in the hope that doing so would stop them from bubbling outwards. There was pressure building against his muscles, a battering ram of growth bashing against the walls of his resistance. The slammed against the walls of muscle and he could feel his pecs bulge outwards against. He reigned them in, holding his breath. Another attack and this time, he could feel some of the substance breaking through to the point where a clear, white substance began leaking from his nipples.

"N - N - No..." he grunted.

Then the third attack came and his walls were shattered. Wolfie howled in defeat as the serum took full hold of his pectorals. It bled into every cell, causing the muscles to balloon outwards disproportionately to the rest of his body. Still remaining strong, firm and solid, his chest muscles rose up like two engulfing mountains, nearly eclipsing the light over him. Cresting them were the twin peaks of his nipples.

Wolfie, exhausted from holding back, could feel the serum falling back. He managed to open one eye and noticed the monstrous growths that his pecs had become. His eyes also caught sight of the two metallic arms reaching down from the darkness towards his nipples. The throbbing of his own heart overwhelmed almost all other sound in his ears but he vaguely registered his captor lecturing him again, boasting about something but he couldn't hear it.

He began his tried and true exercise of maintaining his sanity even as the metallic hands gripped his engorged, black nipples. The artificial digits were surprisingly gentle as they rubbed the sensitive nubs and that only caused him to leak more and more of his fluids from both his cock and nipples.

Then the serum started flowing against.

He grunted, barely choking the sound as the weight of his engorged pectorals almost crushed his lungs beneath. There was some relief, however, as the formula bled through his pectorals and seemed to focus entirely on his nipples. He moaned as the robotic arms intensified their teasing. They gripped the nubs, tugging at them, urging them to pull further and further away from his body. A little twist, a teasing pinch and Wolfie could feel his nips throbbing like two hearts perched at the top of his mountainous pectorals.

With every pulse, he could feel the sensitive flesh stretching and widening. That sound of stretching leather filled the air again. Somehow, he managed to make out the noise of more arms mechanically reaching out from the darkness even as he could feel the dark skin of his nipples widened, spreading further around his pectorals and readying themselves for what was to come. All the while, more and more pressure was building in his balls even as blood was demanded towards his chest.

Strangely, he found himself denied of an orgasm even though his cock was painfully erect and had risen to the point where it was sliding between the crevasse of his engorged pectorals. When more mechanical arms gripped his dick and pressed it against his chest, he realised that some of his kidnapper's serum was bleeding up from the restraints around his thighs and seeping up towards his cock and affecting the throbbing member as well. He could feel his cock growing bigger and bigger, each pulse pushing it deeper and deeper between his pectorals. There had been many times that he had pec-fucked someone but this was the first time he had ever pec-fucked himself to such a degree. He moaned, throwing his head back against the metal table and bucking his hips madly and thrusting his cock into the valley of his chest. No matter how hard he tried, however, his cock would not unleash its nuclear payload.

And that frustration was transferred through the rest of his system and towards his nipples. The fiery need shot from his needy dick, scrambled over his tensed abdominals, summitted the crags of his pectorals and then shot into his nipples, doubling the rising feeling in them. He let out another howl, this one a mix of arousal and animalistic need.

Through his one opened eye, Wolfie Canem saw the culmination of his captor's experiment. The long metallic arms tugged at his nipples, pulling them away from his pectorals. But where those fleshy nubs should have retreated back into his skin the moment the cold, spindly fingers let go, they instead remained hardened and erect.

"Excellent!" exclaimed his captor. "Keep going!"

On command, the machine hand bent down and once again pulled at his nipple. There was a loud gurgling noise from his nipples like it was a hungry animal that was just being roused from hibernation. The organ thickened just like a rising cock while also gaining another inch in length. Mercilessly, the machinery pulled it again. This time, a burst of white fluids shot from the tip and it grew a whole three inches with little prompting.

"Again!"

Wolfie could only moan as the same sensations that were assaulting his dick erupted from his nipples as the fleshy organs became engorged and grew an additional six inches. A second pair of arms began assaulting the hard, thickened, black flagpoles erupting from his chest. The first pair continued to tug at the tip while the second began stroking the slick, veiny length. The organ doubled in length, shooting outwards a full foot with a glorious burst of liquid.

"More!"

Three more pairs of mechanical arms sprang from the darkness and began assaulting Wolfie's nipples. One pair pinched the throbbing length and the result was that they thickened, widened more and more until it was as thick as a normal man's arms with veins that would put a bodybuilder to shame. Another pair stroked the entire length which only encouraged the constant flow of fluids from the tip like an open faucet. It took two whole pairs to start tugging at the edge of the organ to encourage growth and as another two feet were added to its overall length, Wolfie was forced to see the length vanish into the darkness.

"Keep going!"

He could only close his eyes more mechanical hands emerged from the darkness to encompass his growing nipples, soon outstripping his own dick in sheer length and girth. Those arms began caressing his chest. A deep gurgling emerged from his pectorals like it was his own balls. The contrasts were not lost on him as he felt what must've been a cum-like substance thrashing in his pectorals. He could feel it shooting up the length of his nipples just as surely as the same substance was rising up from his balls through his dick.

"Fuck!" he moaned.

"Do not let him orgasm!" shouted his warden. There must've been someone else alongside his captor because he shouted, "No! Not yet! Increase the pressure! He has to -"

Wolfie howled.

The pressure became too much. He let out a choking gasp and suddenly thrust both his hips and chest outwards, arching his back in a euphoric mix of pleasure and pain. It felt like cannons had gone off in his chest and groin. Hot, scalding cum came barrelling out of his dick, blasting through his pectorals and shooting him straight in the face. Wolfie's head was knocked back, slamming his head against the back of the table. At the same time, the same substance came blasted out of his pectorals and shooting up his erect nipples. While his howl died in his throat, the cry of bending metal took over. The blast of his nipples shot straight at the roof with enough force that it began to bend metal. The lights around him flickered and he could hear his captor scream in shock.

Sweet unconsciousness began to creep into the corners of Wolfie's vision. His exhausted body collapsed back against the table and he vaguely registered the metal pole that was still embedded into his ass.

His head slumped to the side in time to see a door of light spring open.

******

The men under Hartley were clearly modified. Though still fundamentally human, they were superhuman. Each one was at least eight-feet tall. All were male and all possessed a muscle structure that would make gods piss themselves in fear. Their arms were about as thick as their powerfully built pectorals and they were forced to walk with a permanent strut due to just how thick their thighs were. Despite this, they were oddly proportionate. If seen from afar or through a photograph without any form of reference, they would appear very beautiful. The tight-fitting dark-blue uniforms they wore accentuated every muscle in their body without fail. They were all very distinctly masculine in their own ways.

One man was so hairy that were it not for how well-kempt his beard was, he could've been mistaken for one of those wolf-men. Another was covered in tattoos. A third stank with so much musk that it was impossible to breathe around him. There was one who - despite his extreme physique - had to go around on a little scooter because his cock and balls were just as big as his entire upper body.

Remembering what SABLE had said about Hartley's identity disorder, he wondered if this was the madman's attempt to discover his true identity as a man. Though it was somewhat sickening that the bastard would experiment on his lackeys first before doing so on himself. It was all probably under the guise of 'helping' these poor men. Though he had to wonder if these guys were doing so of their own accord or had been tricked into doing it and were now enslaved.

Either way, Grissom needed one of the men.

The interior of the facility was rather plain and smacked of a man who wanted everything sterile and simple. The walls were clean, metallic and mostly featureless. It was nearly impossible to see the seams where the sheets were connected to one another. Getting lost in the facility would be very easy as there were no markings or even signs to indicate where anything was. He noticed that some of the blue-clad guards constantly carried some device that they kept referring to which was likely a form of map. Even the doors were nearly invisible. Everything was well lit and that made Grissom's job a little more difficult.

But only just a little.

One of the men stepped into the utility closet. It was a very big room, almost a whole room in itself. The metal shelves were perfectly aligned, everything was labelled and set in their right place. The man, a janitor was dressed in a similar dark-blue uniform like the rest of the staff but he had purposefully unbuttoned the top part of his jumpsuit to reveal his heavily chiselled, tanned chest with an eight-pack to die for and a big, powerful chest. Even a meagre janitor had been involved in Hartley's experimentation, it seemed.

As the man - Kirkstein based on his name tag - reached for a mop, a small black droplet fell on his shoulder. He glanced towards in, a frown across his full lips and creasing his chiselled jaw but revealing his cute dimples. The substance was oddly sticky and when he rubbed it between his fingers, it stuck almost like goo.

Then he looked up.

And stared right up into Executor Derek Grissom.

Before Kirkstein could scream, Grissom descended on the man. His entire, gooey mass knocked Kirkstein to the ground and immediately began to envelop him. His victim could not scream as Grissom, now just an amorphous mass but still fully sentient, shoved himself down into the man's thick throat and entered every orifice possible. It said about the man's conditioning when Kirkstein immediately grew hard when Grissom shoved his gooey tendrils into the man's ass. That really made things easier for the Executor, though, as he curled around the man's impressive, fifteen-inch shaft and immediately entered through the man's urethra.

He made a beeline for the man's brain and pushed his tendrils into the grey matter. With frightening and practised expertise, he immediately shutdown the man completely and entirely. All conscious thought was destroyed and Kirkstein became a simple creature of instinct, at least enough for his brain to remain intact while Grissom learned from him. He pulled his black, gooey form away from the man's airways to let him breathe again and went to work.

What both interested and frightened him was that Kirkstein genuinely believed that Hartley was helping him. Having suffered from erectile-dysfunction in his own world, Kirkstein had pounced on the opportunity to be 'enhanced' by the supposedly caring doctor who was posing as a medical practitioner. Kirkstein underwent a slow procedure that took years where he was systematically injected with a serum of Hartley's concoction and left in isolation with hundreds of others in the same situation as him. During that time, Kirkstein grew and became stronger. He grew an extra three feet, reaching his proud height of eight-foot-three, packed on the muscles and his dick became a throbbing member of sexual energy. Surrounded only by men, it was naturally that he put it to good use. Though he had been opposed to being fucked initially, he soon found himself enjoying it and discovered more about himself.

Grissom pitied the man. Hartley had preyed on this poor guy's vulnerability and carefully shaped him over the course of years to be the perfect lackey. The mental conditioning was immaculate. Kirkstein adored Hartley and 'held a special place in his heart' for the man even going so far as not to pursue a permanent partner because of Hartley.

Disgusted, Grissom delved deeper but less on the man's mind but more on Kirkstein's genetic structure. The transformation from skinny, impotent accountant to sexual stud involved a mutagen that the Conglomerate used but was used in excess. It was how Kirkstein's mind had been twisted. The mutagen was originally used to lower rejection rates for organ transplants. An overdose of it left Kirkstein's mind and body open to mental manipulation and physical transformation. It horrified Grissom that Kirkstein had once black-hair, dark eyes, a hairy chest and a beard that would seemingly spring up overnight. Now he was a blonde-haired, square-jawed, blue-eyed stallion. Hartley had changed him in his entirety and Kirkstein had just accepted it! Kirkstein's identity, his individuality and imagination had been completely stripped away and replaced with some generic, masculine template! It went against everything the _Conglomerate_stood for.

The Executor spent no more time dwelling on it and completely absorbed Kirkstein. His gooey mass deconstructed the man completely and utterly. He allowed the captured man one last orgasm before both of them collapsed into a puddle of black goo on the floor. Once strong, muscled arms just melted away into the puddle. Big, masculine feet that had been the subject of worship disappeared into the goo. Chiselled abs, strong pectorals and a monster cock all faded into the same puddle and Kirkstein vanished from existence... for now.

A moment later, the goo began to bubble upwards. Two spires of black mass shot upwards forming a pair of strong, muscular calves which curved towards powerful, secure knees and then broadened once more into tremendous thighs. An all-too human cock nestled between the strong quads like it was meant to be sheathed by the strong muscles. Eight abdominals almost entirely consumed a meagre bellybutton before giving way to broad lats that made for an easily identifying V-shape. Strong, sinewy arms tumbled from broad, watermelon shoulders connected to powerful, calloused hands that were used to clinging to mops and washing surfaces with harsh chemicals. A powerful neck with a prominent Adam's Apple let to a chiselled square jaw that would never ever grow a single strand of beard hair despite being well past puberty. Bright blue eyes sprang up beneath a prominent and almost Neanderthal-like brow accompanied by short-cropped, almost buzz-cut blonde hair. A moment later, the same navy-blue uniform sprang up around the naked man, consuming the rest of the black goo around his feet and wrapping those very same feet in thick, black boots.

It occurred to Grissom in his new shape that the white stripes that ran over his uniform indicated that he was the lowest of the low, a member of the custodial staff. Still, it meant that he was allowed anywhere and that was perfect for infiltration.

Wearing Kirkstein's form, Derek Grissom stepped out of the utility closet and strode down the sterile, white halls. Thanks to the janitor's memories, he knew that Wolfie Canem was being kept in one of the deeper levels in a private experimentation lab. Grissom tapped his waist pocket where he kept _Delilah_in his current shape.

He passed a few other men along the way, identifying those with yellow trimming as scientists, those with red as security and those with green as office staff. Apparently, Hatley needed pencil pushers here as they organised equipment and supplies being transported to and from this facility through primitive means such as interstellar transports. There were no dimensional gateways that would see the supplies transported instantly. There were also those with grey-trimmed uniforms that were the agricultural staff that made those supplies but they were not present in this particular facility. Those with blue trimmed uniforms were the executive staff, those responsible for certain experiments. They were rare, apparently.

As Grissom strode through the hallways, there was sudden quake. The hallways were abruptly bathed in red light and he reached for Delilah, fearful that he had been discovered.

"Gentlemen," came an announcement from the hidden speakers. "Our guest has reached the limit of his experimentation today and has caused some significant damage to the facility. All custodial staff please report to the lab to perform clean-up and maintenance."

"Hartley," Grissom rumbled softly.

But this worked to his fortune. As one of the custodial staff, he was able to follow the rest of those with white stripes down to the bowels of the facility. He had to stop by another utility closet to pick up a mop and bucket. The primitive-by-comparison technology the staff required spoke of the kind of labour that Hartley expected of his studs. He wondered if the madman got a rise out of watching his muscled custodial staff using their muscles in endeavours that could easily be done by machines with the press of a button.

He was surprised that the facility really wasn't that deep. Just about 7 floors beneath the surface. It was at the 4th floor that he found himself at the door to Wolfie's chambers. Along with three other members of the custodian staff that had been the first to arrive, he stepped through the large, silvery doors.

Even though he had seen Wolfie's profile before, he was amazed at the specimen before him. But what horrified him was the presence of the bunny-wolf's engorged nipples that rocketed up into the ceiling and ridiculously enlarged pectorals. He hoped the poor guy's mind hadn't been broken like Kirkstein's.

"Something wrong?"

There was a man with red stripes behind him. A guard.

"No," he answered coolly. "Everything is going to be alright."

"What?"

"I wasn't talking to you," answered Grissom. "I was talking to Canem."

Lightning fast, he flipped out Delilah and pulled the trigger on the guard. The tiny needle struck the man between the eyes and immediately injected itself deep into the man's brain. Before the guard even hit the ground, he spun and fired at the two remaining members of the custodial staff. Black tentacles burst out from his back and grabbed the three bodies that lay around him. A gooey, black mass burst from his form as the image of Kirkstein faded and he dragged the three men into his body.

The big, black pit-bull with the white X's across his fur took the place of one of Hartley's henchmen. Even as the three other henchmen were pulled into his body and absorbed he maintained his form and made his way towards Wolfie, his white coat rippling around his shoulder.

"Mr. Canem," he said. "Can you hear me?"

Wolfie peeled his eyes open slightly. "Who...?"

Relief washed over the Executor. "My name is Derek Grissom. I am an Executor of the Nexus Conglomerate. The Director sent me."

"Executor...?"

"One of the Director's personal elite. I'm here to rescue you."

As he spoke, he was simultaneously deconstructing the three men he had absorbed. He quickly understood the full layout of the facility and his heart sank when he realised that he had made a tactical error by being too brash.

The doors behind him abruptly shut, plunging him into darkness.

"Well, well. An Executor. This is a rare honour."

Lights erupted around him catching him and the prone Canem in a spotlight.

"Hartley," Grissom snarled, resting a thick arm over Wolfie's form protectively.

"I expected the Director to retaliate but I did not think he would send one of his Executors. I am genuinely flattered."

Grissom snorted softly. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm here to rescue Mr. Canem, not kill you."

There was a short, girlish giggle from the speakers. "Regardless, you are now in my custody, Executor. Nothing you can do will break you out. So why don't you get comfortable right next to Mr. Canem?"

As he spoke, metallic arms began emerging from the outer edges of the illuminated area.

"If you think I'm just going to roll over and let you experiment on me, you've got another thing coming."

"I highly doubt that. You see, you want Mr. Canem and the unfortunate thing is that I've got my nanomachine restraints in him. You're not pulling him off that table unless you want to rip him to shreds."

Grissom glanced towards the manacles wrapped around Canem's wrists, thighs and neck. The big bunny-wolf gave him an apologetic look. From the memories that he had acquired, the Executor realised that Hartley was right. There was no way he could free Canem...

... as is.

"That's where you're wrong, Hartley."

Without warning, Grissom liquefied, his entire body collapsing into a pool of black liquid where he had stood. Not even a second after his form vanished did the liquid leap up and shove itself straight down Canem's open muzzle. The bunny-wolf's eyes bulged as he was forced to guzzle the Executor's form in its entirety. His stomach bulged with the sudden added mass and he gagged, his body twitching and squirming against the restraints while he was filled by the big, black, pit-bull.

Hartley was left utterly stunned.

The rogue scientist just stared at the situation in surprise. "What the...?"

Then Wolfie began to get hard again.

******

The last of the oddly meaty tasting Executor disappeared into Wolfie's muzzle. The bunny-wolf was left gasping and groaning as his entire belly felt like it was about to burst.

"Oh fuck..." he moaned.

"Mr. Canem, can you hear me?"

He was stunned at the sound of the voice. "Executor!?"

"Yes. I'm speaking to you through your nervous system. I am inside of you."

"You're inside of me!?"

Hartley laughed from where he stood, hidden in the shadows. "Is that your tactic, Executor?" demanded the madman. "You will hide inside Mr. Canem? What? You think you can hold him hostage? Destroy him so that I don't get him? You think he's that precious to me? Or perhaps you are challenging me? You think that I won't cut him open to get to you!?"

Wolfie whimpered.

"Don't worry, Mr. Canem," said Executor Grissom. "That's not what I intend."

Knowing full well that Hartley could hear him, Wolfie remained silent.

"What I'm going to do is pretty drastic," said Grissom. "But it will work. Do you trust me?"

Wolfie shut his eyes.

"Yes."

Suddenly, intense pleasure erupted from all over Wolfie's body. The disproportionate bulge in his gut abruptly bubbled away and he could feel the Executor shooting throughout his entire body just like how the serum had bled through him previously but now it was coming out of his stomach! There was an intense, burning sensation from deep within his veins like fire was pumping through his entire system. He let out a tremendous roar as the very fire shot through his engorged cock and erect nipples.

"Oh shit!" he roared.

His exhaustion was suddenly gone and he felt the strength and fire of four men powering through him as Grissom used the mass he had obtained for Kirkstein and the three other lackeys to rapidly repair the bunny-wolf's body. At the same time, Wolfie could feel the Executor pushing out from inside of him. He could feel the Executor _wiggling_his way outwards from his veins, infecting his muscles, seeping into his bones!

Wolfie clenched his fists as black, gooey tendrils began pushing out of the veins closest to the surface like bizarre, gelatinous grass or fur. He could feel the same goo pushing out from deep within his ears and as he let out another roar, that same goo began sliding up from his throat and bleeding out from the corners of his mouth, Grissom was artfully avoiding blocking his airways but he was also rapidly wrapping all over his body! Grissom was even bleeding out from his eye sockets!

"FUCK!" Wolfie roared.

Grissom's black mass suddenly blasted out of his cock and lengthened nipples. The blast splattered all of the bunny-wolf's face in the black mass and plunged him entirely into darkness. The tremendous bunny-wolf lost all sensation in his body and he slumped into peaceful, blissful warmth.

He let out a soft sigh, a sigh of relief.

To the observers, Wolfie Canem let out another tremendous orgasm but instead of white cum, black goo came shooting out. The same black goo splattered all over the lab, spraying in all directions as Wolfie's cock and nipples thrashed in all directions like hoses on full blast. Hartley jerked back instinctively as the cameras were splattered with the cum. The madman screeched for security to get down to the lab immediately.

Deep in the lab itself, Grissom took the moment of respite to converse with Canem.

"Wolfie," he said softly, their minds melded in the singular gooey mass.

"What did you do?" Wolfie asked, suddenly full of energy and awake.

"Merged us together." In the darkness, Wolfie caught sight of the black pit-bull. Though everything was pitch black, he could make out the Executor clearly without issue down to the bright red of his eyes. "Right now, we are both a singular, liquid mass splattered all over the lab. This is to block Hartley from seeing us and that will in turn force him to send guys down to see what happened."

"It was all for show?"

"And a way for us to escape, yes."

"How did we merge, exactly?"

The pit-bull gave him a sly smirk. "I'm an Executor, Mr. Canem. I am highly adaptable with full control over my physical form and my abilities. I merely reduced you to the same gooey mass as myself and then combined our masses. I'll return you to how you were previously but first, I need you to work with me. Hartley has a lot of tech in this place that can take us both down if we're not careful. But if we work together, we can get out of here."

Wolfie shook his head. "You don't need to convince me. What do we do?"

"As a single entity we're going to need both of our will to keep us together. I'll keep our form together. You need to drive and get us out of here."

"So I'll control the body. You keep us from going back to goo?"

"Exactly."

Wolfie grinned broadly. "Alright. Let's do it."

With that settled, Wolfie found himself suddenly able to open his eyes. As he did so, he realised he was staring upwards. There was a sound like water being slapped in the lab. Through the darkness, he could see the black goo that was splattered over almost every surface was moving towards him. Oddly enough, he wasn't on the examination table anymore. He was actually on the far end of the room looking at the table from its left. He realised he was standing right next to the door though it was impossible to tell given how the only light in the room was angled straight at the examination table.

His head was partially submerged in the goo and as more of it came rushing towards him, he was able to feel more movement and gain more of his senses. His ears emerged and he could hear the heavy footsteps of soldiers rushing towards him.

"Hurry it up, Grissom," he rumbled. "Bad guys incoming!"

"Working here!"

Wolfie got enough mass to lift his head off the ground and as his traps were forming, he managed to lift his paws out of the ground. He gripped the wall beside him to stabilise himself and his fingers immediately bit into the metal, twisting it.

"Whoa... Why am I suddenly so strong?"

"I absorbed four other guys before we merged. Hartley already enhanced them to be superhuman. So you've got your own incredible strength plus their own now. Be careful."

He grinned savagely. "Oh hell yeah."

As his immense chest began to rise from the black goo, he was grateful to see his pectorals were once again proportionate with the rest of his body though he was admittedly disappointed that his nipples were back to normal size. Curiously, he noticed that his fur was now completely black just like the goo around him. A small gun slipped towards him, carried by the goo. Derrick Grissom told him to keep a hold of it and as a white coat formed over his shoulders, he tucked it into one of the many pockets. A bit of vertigo hit him as he rose up higher than the he stood before. He reached his full 10'9'' inches just in time for the door to slide open.

The guards came storming forward and just stopped long enough to turn towards him and gawk.

"Hello boys," he said savagely.

He thrust his leg out. Even though he was only two feet taller than the navy and red-clad men, he was many times stronger and knocked all six of them down with a single blow. Grinning, the now black-coloured bunny-wolf with a white cloak billowing out behind him rushed through the hallway and charged for the exit.

"Stop him!" screeched Hartley. "Don't let him escape!"

More guards came charging out from the various side hallways. They aimed guns straight at him and fired. Wolfie only had a second to register that they were firing bullet - and not even advanced once - at him before he lifted his arms to defend himself. He braced himself for pain but instead was surprised when the bullet just sank into his arm with a wet, gooey noise akin to a pebble being dropped into a lake.

"Huh?"

"We're made of goo, remember?" Grissom advised. "Kinetic weaponry like that won't do anything."

"Oh right."

Wolfie lowered his arms. Head held high, he strut confidently down the sterile hall while the guards continued to fire at him. The bullets just sank into the hulking mass of his chiselled chest. He noticed that there was a cream-coloured crest on his chest akin to his original fur colouring and mentally thanks Grissom for the addition. When he wondered what Grissom was doing with the bullets that were sinking into his body, the Executor answered by causing the bullets to coalesce towards his fists. The metal was reshaped and formed sharpened spikes jutting from his knuckles. Metal claws jutted out of his fingertips as well.

"Now that's cool," he commented. Partially to test out his claws and also to intimidate his enemies, he drew his new claws across the walls. A high-pitched screeching of metal against metal forced the guards to retreat.

The elevator at the far end of the hallway shut down before he could even get to it but Grissom sent him a vision of where the stairs were. The stairs were staggered across the levels so he would have to cross half of the next level to reach the stairs leading to the next. That didn't matter to him as he hurried towards the stairwell. Hartley's retreating men had made a barricade there and began uselessly firing more of their bullets.

"Is it me or is their tech a little on the primitive side?" he commented, absently rubbing his chin as he approached the barricade.

"I would imagine it's because higher-level tech would send alarms through the Conglomerate systems. We keep an eye on everything in the universe and if a society or an individual mysteriously gets an upgrade in tech, we immediately investigate. They probably keep their guards on the low-tech to avoid detection."

One of the guards got ballsy and pulled a handful of grenades. The man yanked the pins out and hurled them at Wolfie. The big, black bunny-wolf froze for a second before his left arm suddenly acted of its own accord. It lashed out, stretching beyond its normal length and seized the grenades before pulling it into himself. He could feel the explosives travelling up his arm and down towards his stomach.

"Holy shit!" he gasped. "What are you -"

The grenades suddenly went off and Wolfie's stomach suddenly surged outwards as if he had been spontaneously inflated. An incredible burning sensation filled his chest, rocketing up from his stomach, through his lungs, up his neck and suddenly -

He let out a thunderous belch but instead of gas, what came out was a torrent of fire. Hartley's men screamed as the pillar of flame forced them to retreat up the stairs. Some were caught in the fire and they dropped to the ground, screaming.

"Whoa..." he muttered.

"Power of an Executor," Grissom answered bluntly.

Wolfie rushed up the stairs after the guards. The moment he reached the third level, he paused when he noticed what looked like mechanised turrets mounted on the far end of the hall just in front of the next flight of stairs. He could sense what Grissom was going to do.

"Can I offer a suggestion?" he said, interrupting the Executor.

The bunny-wolf suddenly thrust his chest out and both his nipples abruptly shot forward, two, huge pillars of black flesh. The tubes wrapped around the barrels of the turrets. The automated turrets immediately began firing and Wolfie could feel the fiery projectiles shooting down the cavities of his nipples and into his chest. He moaned softly at the rapid assault. He advanced upon the turrets as the guards continued to proceed to the second level. When he reached the turrets, he yanked his nipples from them and twisted the barrels until they were completely useless. His cock was hard and dripping at this point.

At the second floor, Hartley's men had pulled a very large gun that was sizzling with electricity. It took three whole men to heft it and its barrel was crackling with blue lightning.

"Should I be worried?" he asked.

"Nope," Grissom answered shortly.

One of the men screamed 'Fire'. An arc of lightning blasted out from the barrel of the gun and struck Wolfie. Instead of pain, the bunny-wolf felt incredible energy shooting through his body. He sensed Grissom redirecting all that energy from his extremities towards his groin. Somehow, the Executor was converting that raw electricity into cum and he could feel his balls starting to fill while his cock ached with a need to erupt. The sensations only intensified and he was forced to his knees.

"It's working! Keep it up!" the soldiers screamed.

What they didn't realise was that Wolfie had gripped his throbbing dick and aimed it right back at them. The noticed that he was stroking his shaft rapidly too late.

"Oh shit! Stop!"

Wolfie threw his head back and howled. Just as the flow of electricity stopped, Wolfie's huge dick burst and sent a huge wall of white cum barrelling down the hallway. The guards cried out in terror as they were utterly swept away by the blow and knocked off their feet. So much cum was produced that it covered the entire hallway and even made its way back to Wolfie where it lapped around his knees.

"Fuck..." grunted the bunny-wolf.

"Did you enjoy that?" Grissom asked, Wolfie sensing the Executor's sly smirk.

"Yeah... Damn... Where'd you come up with that idea?"

"Let's say you inspire me."

Taking that as a compliment, Wolfie got to his feet and marched up to the last level. The big, doors to the outside world were sealed shut and that was all the kept him from freedom. At least fifty feet tall, the doors were tremendously thick and as he approached it, even Wolfie felt that he was not strong enough to wrench this monster open.

"You are not leaving this place," Hartley bellowed from somewhere deeper into the facility. "Neither of you are."

"You're not going to stop us," Wolfie snarled back.

"That door is fifty feet tall, ten feet thick and air tight. There is no way you will make it through that!"

That was a concern. Wolfie mentally turned to Grissom for a solution and he was given one. With a grin, the bunny-wolf just turned around and pressed his paw against the door. The black mass of his paw melted into the door and he groaned softly as Grissom began to deconstruct the material at an atomic level and absorb it into his own body. He grew excited once more at the idea of having the strength of four men _and_a two thousand tonne door bulging in his muscles.

"No!" Hartley screamed. "No! No! No! Stop him!"

Guns began wailing behind him and he was vaguely aware of the bullets sinking into his mountainous and gelatinous back. He ignored it all until Grissom was done eating away at a good portion of the wall to reveal the dusty, bright yellow desert beyond. He turned back towards the men behind him.

"Fuck you, Hartley," he grunted, flicking a middle finger in the direction of the guards. "Fuck you all."

******

A clean-up crew had been waiting in orbit by the time that Derrek had left the facility with Wolfie in tow. Conglomerate troops immediately came rushing in through the hole they had made through the defensive doors and making arrests. They returned to the _Malleus_and let the troops do their thing. Separating Wolfie had been pleasurable for both men as he had taken the arousing route and flooded out of the bunny-wolf's cock while returning him to his physical form.

"Well done, Grissom," the Director said from their interdimensional channel. "I trust Mr. Canem is resting?"

"I had to merge with him to escape the facility. Hartley had some very interesting defences. Low tech but interesting. He's in my nutrient bath right now, recovering."

"I do hope he enjoyed the experience with you. With Hartley, less so."

Grissom grunted at the thought of the maniac that had deprived others of their free will and identity. "Any news on his status?"

"Bad news, I'm afraid."

The Executor's heart plummeted.

"You are aware of his experiments and procedure of imprinting a specific stereotype of masculinity into an individual?"

"Yes?" Grissom spat.

"Then you can clearly conclude that it was not beyond him to 'whitewash' another person and then paint his own personality on top of them."

The Executor's jaw dropped open in shock. He hadn't anticipated that. "Are you saying...?"

"Yes. The Keening Hartley captured in the facility was a mere facsimile. Just another of his victims with his own personality imprinted on top of it. It was a partitioned personality as well. It wasn't aware of its limitation or even its own identity. As far as it was concerned, it was just starting out and Wolfie Canem was his first target."

"Son-of-a-bitch!" Grissom snarled, slamming a fist into his conference table.

"I share your frustrations, Derrek. I'm committing resources to finding the true Hartley if there even is a true Hartley anymore."

He regarded the Director curiously. "Sir?"

The Director's emotionless features did not move as he explained. "Hartley has been obsessed with interdimensional merging and is painfully of his own mortality. If we were to combine the two issues, one approach I would take would be to split my identity to different 'copies' across the multiverse."

"To what end, sir?"

"Whilst I am not one to really believe in the concept of a soul, I firmly believe that a fragmented individual would be compelled to bring said fragments back together. Every split identity will always find some way of becoming whole again whether it is in life or in the world hereafter. But what if you were to anchor yourself so securely in a reality but that compelling force still wants to bring you back together?"

Grissom began to see what the Director was getting at. "So Hartley wants to be that anchor across different realities and then bring other them together as that force grows more and more desperate to make them whole?"

"It's only a theory that a... friend has warned me of. I take his warnings very seriously." The Director shook his head. "Let me worry about that. Thanks for your efforts Derrek. Take care of Wolfie and return him to his sons safely."

"Thank you, sir. Please keep me up to date on Hartley. I have a score to settle."

"Sure thing, Derrek."

The holographic screen winked out and Grissom got up from his chair. Thoughts still troubling him, he headed back towards his personal quarters to check up on his ward. He paused at the sliding door when he noticed that Wolfie Canem, back to his usual, furry self, was washing himself in the nutrient bath that filled the majority of the room.

Grissom found his groin burning at the sight of the muscular bunny-wolf gently washing every curve and sharpened edge of his muscled frame. The memory of being one with the hybrid was fresh in his mind not to mention the intense adventure they had.

Wolfie noticed him and the rising red rocket in his groin.

"I see you're not all goo, then?" cooed the bunny-wolf.

Executor Derrek Grissom smirked. "Of course not. You're welcome to see just how much."

Wolfie shared his smirk.

"Well then, Executor, what are you waiting for?"