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~ One of Us** ~**

Chapter 2 -- Slumbered

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~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 -- 11:30 PM ~

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Braxton had always been the biggest kid in school until he hit junior year in High School. He'd grown to six feet tall right before he started Middle School. Not only did he stand exceptionally tall for his age, but he packed on size easily, his strength comparable to a young adult. His family, his teachers, his friends -- even Dimitri when they used to be neighbours -- thought he would end up as a giant powerhouse.

The dream started to wane when the years kept passing and his growth had come to a halt. By the end of Middle School, the stunt of his spurt had let him on a down only he had known about. He watched his classmates pick on their own growth spurts, their difference in height slowly closing up. Nevertheless, he graduated Middle School still as one of the tallest kids, but the distinction was not as blatant as it used to be. Before his Freshman year in High School, he hoped and prayed he'd have another growth spurt and keep the title of dominion on his classmates.

When High School begun, he realized he was growing again. He had gained another inch of height. The news made him train hard in hopes of going through one more phase -- a phase that would make him a giant among his peers. However, his aspirations waned once more when he concluded he grew no more than an inch and a half taller. He kept on working out as much as he could, trying to, at least, look as massive as he could muscle-wise.

His devotion to train and build up size had caught the attention of the Physical Education Department, planning to make him join one of the school's sports leagues. When he became a junior, he entered the football team as a 6?1.5?, 195 pounds Running Back. Participating games actually made him realize he was not that big nor that special. The players, albeit most of them older, were HUGE -- with capital letters. Sure, some of them were of his size or less, but it was the first time Braxton had ever felt self-conscious about being a "little" guy. Minding himself to never be the small fry in the team, he only trained harder.

By sophomore year, while still the same height, he had gained twenty pounds of mostly muscle -- although he couldn't help but lose some definition on his abs. That's when he heard about the new player joining the team -- Richard Biggs. The guy was a testimony to his last name. Sophomore as well, he had apparently grown up at least eight inches taller over summer vacations, putting him at a towering thick six-foot-six beast. To make things worse, the man had to share the same position as himself. The teen could have been a Wide Receiver or a Quarterback instead, but the new player excelled at running.

Braxton hated him. The guy was faster than him and more charismatic as well. His uncle had a farm and that's where he spent summer building muscles. What bugged Braxton, however, was that Richard never seemed to have any girlfriend. It wasn't like nobody was interested in him -- the girls were practically fawning at him. One night, after a well-played game and a few illegal drinks later, Richard had admitted he wasn't keen in women at all. Braxton connected the dots and even confronted the man, when they were alone, if he was gay. The reply wasn't what he had anticipated -- and yet, he didn't know what to anticipate:

"Why? Are you interested?" Richard snarked back, with a coy smirk that didn't let much on.

He couldn't accept it. He just wouldn't. A gay guy in HIS football team? NEVER! Braxton tried extirpating the queer from their squad, revealing the odious nature of the player and explaining how wrong and bad it looked for their school reputation. The coach and the principal, although not lenient on homosexuals in general, could not afford losing such a good team asset. Taking the matters into his own hands, Braxton waited until their next after-game party before pushing his inebriated target down the stairs, breaking his legs in the process. The scandal it brought was mediated and upon treating the wounded player, the alcohol found in his blood incriminated him since he was still a minor back then. The guy could have had a bright future in sports and his studies, but Braxton made sure he would have the spotlight instead.

Braxton shook his head, the remorse of his younger deeds filling him with regrets. Whilst he did not approve of the homosexual lifestyle even to this day, he grew to simply let them be and not feed on his hate to justify his motives. He used to be so stupid and impulsive when he was a teen, and he still kinda was in his humble opinion. If he had known it would eventually get back at him someday, he would have probably learned to temper his emotions rather than act on them.

Braxton had not walked in Dimi's basement in years. He remembered when they used to play hide-and-seek with their Nerf Guns in the shadows of the immense basement. The disposition of the furniture and the divisions didn't look familiar at all, even less in the dark. He called for his friends when the door behind him closed shut, making him spin around so fast his pumpkin candle almost went off. He stepped back toward where he came from and reopened the door, thinking someone was pranking him with a trick, but realized it was jammed.

"What... fucking hell!" He grumbled -- fidgeting with the handle did nothing.

He could have broken through the door -- at 250 pounds, he was more than able to -- , but he doubted Dimi's parents would appreciate the result. He wondered, for a moment, if that jammed door was the reason why the guys didn't come back upstairs. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt like an ethereal hand grazed his back. Turning around once again, the football player could only witness the profound blackness of the room.

"Anybody there?" Braxton asked out loud, feeling chilly all of a sudden.

A slow creaking sound increased in intensity across the theatre, like a door opening. He did not remember where the breaker panel was from their childish jaunts, but he figured he'd go investigate what was causing this noise. With each sluggish step, the wall seemed to back away further and mingle into the dark, the floorboards stretching infinitely beneath his feet. After what felt like an eternity to cross the room, Braxton finally saw the ajar door. Gulping back, the footballer pushed the door opened and entered another large apartment.

Unlike in the theatre, there was a small window on the farther end, near the ceiling. Some of the moonlight poured into the place. With it, something shone faintly across the walls, a timid spark embracing the space.

Moving into the quiet room, Braxton let out a shocked yell as the door closed drastically behind him. He turned around and barked again in surprise, an imposing figure standing right before him by the entrance. He backed off until his feet hit a heavy object, making him stumble awkwardly into what felt like a seat. The pumpkin fell down and collapsed into pieces, stifling the flame.

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~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 -- 11:40 PM ~

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A commotion tore Larry out of his own world as he was playing Klondike on his laptop. Even through the blasting music going in his headphones, it felt like the floors itself shook from an earthquake. Everything fell back into silence. However, fearing some unexpected event would occur, he pulled his headset off and lent an ear to any possible sound.

He wondered what the cause of this tumult was. It couldn't have been just an earthquake -- could it have been Dimitri or Asher? Maybe someone else? Closing the lid of his laptop -- the battery was almost depleted anyway -- , Larry left it under his pillow, grabbed the knife and the illuminated pumpkin on his nightstand. He slowly walked to his door, making sure his steps were as light as a feather to not attract any attention. He turned one last time at his window, which had been opened when he got into his room. Fortunately, nothing seemed to have been robbed at first glance. It didn't mean someone didn't take the opportunity to enter the mansion while he had been away earlier. He had been careless enough for letting the window opened -- and yet, he did not foresee going upstairs would take him as much time as it did.

About to leave his den, Larry cracked the door ajar slightly. However, the darkness swallowed his light into its unknown depths, revealing nothing he could see. He felt so safe and secure, like naught would get to him if he stayed in his room -- and perhaps wait until sunrise -- but the sudden noise made him curious, even if within he felt about to piss himself.

"He -- hello?" The lad muttered, shaking slightly more with each further inch he pulled the door open.

A chilly yet invisible wall hit him as he left the comfort of his nest, sinking into the shadows.

"Who's there? What was that?" He asked, louder this time.

A few steps outside of his room and Larry heard another series of noises, the floor shaking from it once more. Profanities and groans echoed in the direction of the commotion -- from the recreation room. Holding firmly on the knife, Larry walked toward the door, redoubting what he might just encounter behind it.

"I heard you!" Larry claimed, standing a few feet away. "Who's there?"

"Lar... Larry?" The voice on the other side asked. "Do you have a light? I fell down and I can't see shit!"

"Braxton?" The lad mumbled, the apprehension shifting to concern.

Still on his guard, the teenager opened the door, looking around for his childhood neighbour. The dimmed sight actually put a smirk on Larry's face -- the footballer had stumbled on a pair of dumbbells Dimitri must have forgotten to store back on the rack, by their workout bench.

"Dude... how did you get here?" Larry chuckled, giving his friend a hand.

"Fuck, bro! For a moment, I thought I saw..." The man started, as he stood back on his feet, before hiding any hint of fear in his expression. "You guys took your sweet fucking time down here! Where's the boys at?"

"They went after the breaker."

"Right... but weren't you with them?"

"They left me behind so I checked on my stuff instead."

Braxton sized up the gamer for a moment until their attention diverted toward the theatre room, a new sound had yet echoed farther in the basement.

"Did you hear that?" The Running Back mumbled.

Larry grabbed onto his knife, fearing what they might encounter. The footballer would have chuckled at Larry's timorous behaviour, but the oddity of the whole situation made him not.

"What was that?"

"Dimitri? Is that you?" Larry asked.

"Let's go check on them."

"Yeah."

The sportsman went first, lightened by Larry's pumpkin. The duo made it into the next room. Devoid of windows, the theatre only seemed darker. Just as Braxton called for the boys, a loud grunt and a splintering glass echoed from another room, all the way across the cinema.

"That was from the bar!" Larry whispered to Braxton. "Someone's in there!"

"Let's go, Lar!" The footballer goaded on.

With an uncertain step, the younger lad followed his ex-neighbour. They got around the few seats facing the wide TV on the far wall, close to the door leading into the bar until one more fearful glass-shattering noise resounded in the closed room.

"Should we knock?" Larry suggested, shaking like a leaf.

"What are you? A pussy?" Braxton mocked.

"What?! No, I'm not!" The gamer frowned with anger.

The grunts coming from the room suddenly stopped, leaving both arguing men on the edge of running. After a few seconds of silence, new noises and growls echoed behind the door, although none seemed to imply if they'd been heard or not.

"I'm not a fuckin' pussy!" Larry gritted between his teeth at Braxton.

"Then come here and light up the freakin' door!"

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~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 -- 11:45 PM ~

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The air had gotten cooler. Its coldness dug into the couple's bones to a point where the post-coitus heat no longer sufficed to keep them warm. Sebastian looked out through the window, wrapping his arm around his shivering girlfriend. He had her wrapped in an old wool blanket he found in the cabinet and had put his toque on her head instead of her Egyptian diadem. He had even removed his plaid shirt for her earlier, before he discovered the cloth, which she now had bundled into a pillow to rest on her lover's bony shoulder.

"Where's Theo and Jen?" The drunken Mathilda slurred at her boyfriend, almost drooling on the shoulder she leaned on.

"I don't know, babe. They've been away for a while, now." He said with concern in his voice, rubbing her under the blanket. "They should be back for a while."

"Maybe they went back inside? I don't blame them. It's freezing cold, here."

"Do you want to move inside too?"

"I think I just wanna nap a bit." The half-naked Cleopatra mumbled, curling up against him. "Do you want to stay with me?"

"I would, but I don't think we should fall asleep, babe." The tall young man shook her, resulting in a displeased groan. "Remember what the..."

"Ugh! Fuck off, Seb!" She snarked, visibly annoyed. "I just want to nap and cuddle with you a while -- not sleep all night!"

"Fine... but that will be without me. I'll look for the others first and come back to check on you." Sebastian conceded, kissing her on her forehead. "Think you can stay alone for a bit?"

"You know I'm a big girl now, Daddy." She giggled, eyes closed.

"Yeah, babe. I know." The shirtless man smiled, standing up and leaving her to lie on the bench.

Freezing, Sebastian looked back into the cabinet where he previously found the blanket and searched for a piece of clothing to wear outside. The only thing he found was an old hunting vest. While the orange cloth wouldn't keep him warm much, it was better still than heading out bare chest.

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~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 -- 11:50 PM ~

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Braxton opened the door. Another glass shatter joined in the grunts and slick sounds filling the dark room. The dim light that entered through a broken window gave a brief hint of what was going on inside the bar. Beyond the high counter and stools, shadows moved ominously. The footballer, not seeing imminent threat, stepped inside warily but stopped short almost right after. Larry barely caught to him, asking him what was happening, until the pumpkin illuminated a large figure blocking the shelves. The towering creature gasped for air after chugging yet another bottle of alcoholic beverages. It discarded the emptied glass around the room without a care, breaking it as it landed on the floor.

"Hey, you! What are you doing?!" Braxton yelled, immediately regretting calling the 'thing' out.

Slowly, the monstrous figure turned around, revealing a pair of red glowing eyes in the dark. Its slobbering mouth hung open, curled into a devious smile. Sharp inhuman fangs faintly gleamed white from the light reflection. The creature stepped aside, showing the wreckage it's done to the home bar as it approached the two immobile men. And above any trepidation the two young men could feel, they noticed it was lewdly stroking a ginormous erection a foot before itself, drooling precum on the floor.

"Wha-- what the hell is that thing?!" Larry cried, his voice cracking from terror.

"Move!" Braxton ordered as he ran for the exit.

Their outburst was what the beast needed to leap spontaneously into their direction. The footballer tackled the fear frozen Larry out of the room. Braxton tried to shut the door closed, but the monster put its sturdy fingers on the frame, preventing from pushing it. A scream from Larry reverberated through the basement, just as a far away door in the room opened energetically.

"Brax? Guys? What's going on?" The voice of Victor boomed through the cinema.

"Vic! Come here, man!" The other jock pleaded as he rammed himself into the door, struggling to lock the creature into the bar, but to no avail.

A gigantic arm, covered in dense fiery hair, had made its way out, its boulder-sized shoulder about to make it through. Victor dropped his Captain America shield and ran to help him, but stumbled onto Larry midway. Accidentally, he kicked the pumpkin away in the process, making the object roll its way between the seats -- thus casting greater shadows.

"Get the pumpkin, Lar!" Braxton shouted.

As Victor joined his friend in closing the door, Larry just retrieved the light. Just as the youngest man turned toward the jocks with the candle, the monstrous arm had retreated into the bar. The pounding against the door -- covered in cracks and looking as if it would break anytime soon -- stopped. Ear against it, Braxton listened for the beast. After a few seconds, he could hear it lumbering off, each of its steps weighing heavily. Carefully, he moved away and told his companions.

"What the hell was that?!" Victor snapped.

"A bear, I guess? But are there bears around here?! I've never seen any!" Braxton exclaimed between huffs.

"The bar's a mess! My parents are gonna kill me!" Larry expressed, falling into a theatre seat, grasping the pumpkin anxiously.

"That thing's gonna kill us if we don't get to kill it first!" Braxton snarked back, unbelieving the preoccupied teen. "Fuck! Where's the fucking breaker?!"

"That way..." Larry muttered, livid.

"You've gotta be shitting me!" The footballer gritted his teeth, rolling his eyes.

"Is there any other way to reach Asher and Dimi? An outside door, a window?" Victor asked Larry.

"There's a window in the breaker room." He answered. "But there's also a hidden door that could bypass the bar."

"What?"

The cracked door burst open, the beast barging through. The three guys screamed altogether. The monster tripped over the first row of seats and fell to the floor in a surprised yelp. Victor tried the door to run back upstairs, but it was jammed. They were stuck here with this thing! Larry jumped onto his feet and led the crew, benefitting of the stunned creature on the ground to sprint for their lives.

"Follow me!"

The two jocks didn't need to be told twice. They obeyed after Larry, running back toward the bedrooms near the stairs.

"Why are you running from me, guys?" A deep yet familiar voice boomed after them with a mocking tone to it.

"Run!" Victor cried as they turned sharp into the corridor.

"Here!" Larry gestured, opening a closet door in the dead end.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Braxton grumbled looking at the short and narrow entrance.

"Close the door behind you!" Larry commanded as he leaned inside.

It didn't take long for all three guys to get inside. Braxton, last to enter, even saw the gleaming red eyes of the giant beast across the corridor before he closed it shut. The apparent closet actually looked more like a water room, with various valves and pipes leading to most of the mansion's plumbing. Behind racks of clothes and miscellaneous objects, Larry unravelled another small door on the back side.

Larry urged his companions into the other room with him. Once again the place was devoid of any windows, leaving the weak pumpkin as their only light source. The three young men listened carefully in case the monster had discovered their whereabouts, but it seemed oblivious to their ruse... for now.

"Where are we now then, Lar?" Braxton asked, half in a whisper, looking around.

"This is my parents' archives for work." Larry summed up -- they worked in the law department. "They don't get to let anyone in here usually, so don't touch anything."

"They hide their archives behind a fucking closet?" Braxton pondered dumbfoundingly.

"No, it's just another way to reach it without going through the bar and meeting room."

A soft pounding and muffling echoed, as if smothered. The three men grew anxious from the sound all of a sudden, until Larry realized this came from what they were looking for -- the breaker room.

"They're in there!" The gamer expressed with relief, rushing toward the wall on their left. "Wait... guys?"

"What is it, Larry?" Victor asked, keeping on giving furtive glances from the door they came from -- in case the monster stroke back.

"There's... a bookshelf in front of the door!"

"What?"

The teen put the pumpkin light on a filing cabinet in the middle of the room, right next to a desk covered in boxes and piles of articles. He examined the bookcase once more, thinking out loud how someone must have shoved it to block the breaker room's entrance. Larry tried to position himself so that he could push the shelves and free the door, but the furniture proved to be too heavy for him to move it out of the way.

"Care to help me, guys?" Larry asked, frowning upon the slowness of the jocks to help him.

Braxton chuckled at first, teasing the gamer if his muscles were just for show or for real. Larry snarked back at him to help rather than throwing insults. Victor, suppressing a laugh, lent him a hand. The task became easy with two of them. Once the door was free, Larry opened it. On the other side, they found a visibly annoyed Dimitri, with a flashlight and his shotgun in his hands. The pumpkin he used to manoeuvre around earlier was now sitting on a stripped wooden table under a small and high window.

"T'was about time someone came here!" Dimitri chimed in.

"So much for going alone, bro." Larry nagged.

"I never planned on getting trapped in the breaker!"

"Did it work, the breaker?"

"What do you think?!" The big brother sarcastically asked.

"Okay, okay. No need to spit venom on me, man!" Larry sighed.

"If it's not the breaker, that means the current line had been cut, right?" Braxton remarked.

"Yeah, that's what I think as well." Dimitri spoke, scanning the guys who rescued him from his cell. "Where's Asher, by the way?"

While not directly asked to Larry, the party host glanced at his brother anyway -- he was the last one who saw Asher after all.

"We separated. When you went for the breaker, Asher told me he was going after you."

"What? But... I didn't see Asher since I've left you two in the TV room. Where did you go, then?"

"I looked on my stuff in my room."

"Ah! Right... and no robber?"

"No."

"But there's...something that's been robbing some of your booze, guys, though." Braxton added.

"What?"

"Yeah..." Larry mumbled into a whisper, lowering his voice as he briefly looked toward the water-room door. "A monster or something broke into the bar."

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DISCLAIMER: The following part of the chapter contains a rather graphic transformation (nothing gore, but it contains body/self horror). Make sure you read the involved tags for this particular chapter to have an idea where this is going. It's my first time writing something of the sort, but I'm rather happy how it turned out, even though I consider myself a gay guy. Hope you enjoy!

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~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 -- 12:00 AM ~

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Nightmarish visions startled Mathilda from her pleasant drunken thoughts. The room around her was dimmed, but the pale light of the full moon shone into the shed by the window. She was still sweaty. The air was chillier than what she expected -- it was Texas after all. She looked for her boyfriend Seb or her friends, but she was alone... or so she thought. She stood up shakily, the gravity weighing her down more than she was used to. The alcohol was still pretty much in her system, despite throwing up earlier. She pulled on the battery lightbulb cord and a disturbing sight shocked her.

Right in front of her, her ex-boyfriend Gregory Starks sat on the bench where she lied a few seconds ago.

"Good evening, Mathy. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Greg?" The drunken girl spoke, unfocussed. "What are you doing here? I told you we were over."

"Why did you betray me like that?" The man asked calmly.

"Dude, you told me you were some bisexual freak. I wanted a real man for a boyfriend, not some closeted homo that would fuck guys behind my back."

"You were always so judgmental, Mathilda. Being bi doesn't mean I have to fuck both girls and guys. It only means I am turned on by both. If a guy were turned on by both svelte and curvy girls, would you rather end your relationship in fear he'd bang curvy women behind your back?"

"Fuck off with your stupid allegories, Greg. I bet the only reason why you played sports was to fuck with those guys in the showers." She shot out of spite. "The world doesn't need freaks like you who can't even decide if they're gay or straight."

"Bisexuality isn't a phase, Mathilda. I would have hoped you'd realize someday."

"Whatever. Get away from here before I call the cops. You weren't even invited here. The guys didn't even like you anyway."

"How will you call the cops?"

Suddenly, the weight of the blackout and fried batteries came back on the Latina. Feigning she still had her phone, she played it cool.

"With my phone, you dummy! You're so thick sometime!" She insulted.

"Your phone is dead, Mathy. I repeat: how will you call the cops?"

The cold stoicism of her ex-boyfriend made shivers run down Mathilda's back.

"How does he know about my phone? Was he spying on us?" She thought.

A smug grin stretched on Greg's face, barely shown through the faint moonlight in the shed. The sportive man stood up from the stool. He was not as tall as Mathilda's current boyfriend, but he was taller than Dimitri and Braxton. She remembered him to be slightly thicker than Sebastian's lanky build, yet the person before her looked way thinner -- atrophied, even. Concern filled up the girl's already frightened expression. Now that she had a better view of him, she noticed how the man was completely naked, the livid skin clinging to his bones.

"What... happened to you?"

"You, Mathy. You happened to me." The man said as he stepped toward her.

"Stay back!" She ordered, backing away against the door, trying to reach for the handle without breaking eye contact. "Don't get any closer!"

"What are you afraid of, Mathy?" The figure mocked, its voice distorting slightly.

The eyes of the man blinked red for a second, glowing in the dark while it did.

"Seb!" Mathilda cried in terror. "Jen! Anyone! Help!"

To her horror, turning the handle did nothing -- the door was stuck.

"This can't be happening!" She panicked in her interior.

In the instant she had broken their shared glance to examine the door, a warm breath hit her bare shoulder. Mathilda tried to scream, but a hand covered her mouth, preventing her from doing calling for help. She sensed the familiar feeling of a firm yet fleshy lump against her lower back.

"I'm going to get raped!" She panicked. "I'm going to get raped!"

"Do you know what it's like to be outed as bi in a sports team, Mathy? Do you know how many beatings I've gone through just because of you?"

Tears ran down the Cleopatra's face, her mascara smearing all over. The naked man lifted her robe, eliciting more muffled screams from the helpless woman.

"I've been raped, Mathy. I've been beaten. Humiliated."

The fingers of her captor coursed up and down her hairless flesh, teasing her, violating her. She closed her eyes, resolved to her incoming rape.

"I'm in a coma, Mathy. All that... is because of you." The distorted voice whispered into her ear.

His hands ran to her front, crawling under her disguise, rubbing her abdomen's skin.

"You just had to fuck with your new boy Seb, huh, Mathy?" He chuckled. "No condoms or anything... aren't you a bit scared of getting pregnant? You sure changed since I've known you."

The hand covering her mouth withdrew, letting her gasp for a big breath before screaming into the void of the night. Gregory didn't sway away, his erection still rubbing her back.

"Scream all you want, Mathy. You've already lost." The voice said enigmatically as darkness ate the shed.

Mathilda hyperventilated, falling into the endless pit of shadows as a throbbing assailed the insides of her sex. She clutched her tummy, trying to yell, to liberate herself from what filled her hole to the brim. Only as her body finally collided with the end of the abyss did she finally gasp for air once more.

There she was, on some wooden floor in some dark place... but not as dark as before. The faint blueish light of the moon entered the shed once more and she lied there, on the dirty ground, right next to the bench she had fallen asleep earlier. Mathilda jerked her head frenetically, looking for a trace of Gregory or something -- no one was there but her.

"A dream..." She panted, tears of relief running down her cheeks. "That was just a dream!"

Mathilda pulled herself up with the table, still dizzy. Leaning onto the stand, she realized she indeed felt sick and bloated. Only when she brought her hand to her tummy did she sensed an unusual swelling of her lower abdomen. Her insides grew warmer, the ache intensifying. She felt like puking, nauseous, but nothing came out. Her dry throat tightened up, her neck muscles inflamed and tensed. The bloat of her belly pushed against her fingers, as if something was burgeoning within her.

"Oh God... what's... UGH-- happening to me?!" She cried, moaning as her insides felt like moving on their own.

The memory of her most recent sex with her boyfriend came back to her. While Theodore and Jennifer were gone, she and Sebastian had practically threw themselves at each other, discarding their costumes and fucking like rabbits on the bench under the pale moonlight. Right now, her previously cool pussy had become burning hot and moist. Under her Cleopatra robe, her shaved bush was growing back in force, spreading thicker and longer than ever over an uncomfortably stretched hole.

A twisted moan escaped her throat. Her hand rubbed down to her wet vagina, her eyes snapping open in incredulous shock. The few last sentences of her nightmare resurfaced, haunting. Mathilda trembled in realization. The heat assailing her, the swollen abdomen, the painful stretching of her cunt... she was pregnant -- and about to give birth.

"No! That can't be! Seb! SEEEB!" She screamed in terror.

Her wobbly legs, failing to support her any longer, crumbled. Mathilda gasped, but managed to fall on the bench. She couldn't bear keeping her lower limbs closed one against another so she unfolded them into the widest manspread she's ever done, pulling up her imperial robe, in the meantime. The girl groaned in pain as she felt her womb growing even bigger within her, the unnaturally fast pregnancy occurring simultaneously with her labour.

"AHHH! HEEELP!" She pleaded, her breaths short and difficult, her voice deformed -- a touch cavernous.

"Fuckin' whore!' A voice chimed in her head.

" UGH! Please... stop!" The thought of Gregory's ghost haunting her kept her weeping.

"I trusted you!" Her ex-boyfriend yelled at her, the scene of their breakup coming back to her. "Why did you do that?!"

"I'm... I'm sorry..." Mathilda moaned, clenching her fists and slamming on the bench as the pain of the expansion within her reached new lengths.

More liquid seeped out of her as a large hairy sphere pressed against the narrow opening, tearing her opened further.

" NooOOooOOO!" Her voice cracked, dropping in pitch as she witnessed the head of her child pushing out.

Her hands didn't know what to do -- sometime hitting the seat, sometime clenching at her clothes or skin. She had seen newborns before, yet the hair on this one's was thicker than any she's met. Even the sheer size of her baby's head exceeded her expectations. Sebastian was a tall guy at six-five, but she's never asked if he had been a big child. And yet, why would she even have asked such a thing?

Another wail -- somehow, it was as if she felt the baby as a part of herself. Mathilda let out one more desperate squeal, pushing the unwanted being out of her. She thought her body split opened the instant the head finally went through... but no cries came to her ears. Her vitreous eyes looked down and realized what she had given birth was not a baby's hairy scalp... just a massive ball covered in fuzz.

"Wha-- what?!" She muttered, acknowledging her middle had not receded all the way.

"Here comes its twin!" The malevolent voice in her head cheered.

" UGHHHAAHH!!" Mathilda groaned, her timber hoarser, her whole neck wider.

Due to her already stretched gaping hole, the transforming woman pushed with some ease a second monstrous orb, both of them hanging from her like a sack.

"Just one more!"

"I... I can't...!" She whined, out of breath.

Mathilda didn't even recognize the voice that came from her, sounding more and more alike to that nagging one in her head.

"You've lost, Mathy. You got to accept the consequences."

"Lost what? What consequences?" She thought back, unable to orally exchange with it. The last one coming up was a big one. She could still feel the other two, connected to her somehow -- they were in the way for the third.

"You've fallen asleep, Matt. The rules clearly said to not sleep."

This had to be a nightmare still. Mathilda thought back to the events that happened with their phones earlier. She cussed at herself, blaming how dumb she had been to not believe it.

"I should have known!" She grumbled, clenching her eyes shut.

The tenor timbre of her voice dropped deeper still. Her previous weeps of despair evolved into savage groans. Dark shadows surfaced across her neck and chin, spreading onto her face and down to her chest. The meagre breasts of the gymnast firmed up, converting adipose tissues to thick muscly ones. Her arms tensed, fingers gripping so hard to the bench they turned pale. Each of the digits toughened, enlarging and lengthening as her delicate hands grew into those of a blue-collar.

With all the force Mathilda had left within herself, she screamed and pushed the last piece of the puzzle out of her body -- a long, arm-thick penis slipped from her pussy into the world. Along with some excess ball sack skin slipping out, the new male genitalia sealed shut any last trace of her previous femininity.

"I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN!" He exerted with ferocity, fiery-red eyes snapping open.

The stubble across his face spread out into a short yet dense black beard. The long hair grew out of control into a mane-like frenzy. The lumberjack toque fell off the larger head. Matt brought his new manly hands to the soft yet hardening boner between his wide-opened legs. The organ that made him a male felt so good to rub, sending millions after millions of soothing drugs to his brain along the insane amounts of testosterone the grotesquely sized balls filled him with.

Matt jerked off the massive dong before him with abandon. Nothing had ever felt so great before. His cute dainty feet kicked off the high heels Mathilda previously wore, becoming far too large to be confined in such ridicule footwear. Had Sebastian lent him his size 13 boots, Matt was pretty sure they wouldn't even fit the enormous feet he was still growing. The masturbator's limbs snapped audibly, an insurmountable ache taking over them, as they elongated further. Whereas Mathilda had been a svelte five-foot-nine, Matt was stretching absurdly taller by the second. Six feet came and left, so did six feet and a half, then seven feet. More and more, the new man was enlarging to fit in with the throbbing fourteen incher before him. When his growth slowed and tapered under seven feet and a half, the remains of the Cleopatra costume barely held like awkwardly wrapped rags around him.

Immense amounts of body hair covered the massive Latino, whose last feminine features melted before him. The hips compressed on themselves while the ribcage expanded. Shoulders spread further apart and her oval face honed into a pronounced angular shape, obscured in black bristles. The bright fiery irises glowed even more fiercely, taking a devilish bloodstain hue instead. Along with the changing eyes, claws burst from under the nails and Matt's teeth sharpened into fangs.

With an inhuman cry, mostly a beastly roar, Matt came all over the shed, coating the tools and furniture with spunky and virile semen. The burning need to orgasm as a man for the first time ebbed down slightly, but the swollen manhood did not falter just yet. A deep chuckle reverberated within the monstrous gymnast's chest, its massive pectorals stretching farther than Mathilda's boobs ever could while still depicting a lean cut to them.

Before giving into another masturbatory frenzy, the thought of Gregory resurfaced onto Matt's mind. The fact that the guy had been beaten into a coma by homophobes ignited the flame within him one more time as he began pumping his oversized meat once again.

"Avenge the gays." The newborn Matt growled, relishing his new manliness. "Convert the homophobes -- until there are none."