Big Things Come In Small Packages
The loud crowing of the only rooster on the farm caused me to open my eyes slowly, only to shut them closed again, as a single ray of sunlight flashed in my eye. Hi, my name is Maxwell, or Max to people who know me, which wasn't a lot. I'm 19 years old, and I was having a pleasant dream about my ex-boyfriend, Todd, before the damned rooster woke me up. I get out of bed, which was a simple metal frame with a small mattress and a somewhat thick blanket. I step in front of the body mirror in my room and look myself over. I was very thin and had a moderate cock, only 5 inches and a few inches thick. I've been working on my great-uncle's farm for the past 6 months(Mom was away on a business trip, and Dad was currently in Japan as an ambassador), I had gained a slight build and the farmer tan while living here. I get dressed in some underwear, the overalls Great-Uncle Frank lent me, and a white t-shirt, but was now a brownish-gray color from the work I've done.
I step outside and get to work-feeding the chickens, sweeping the barn, collecting eggs-usual farm stuff. I groan as I stand up after having spent about 45 minutes bent over. I was cleaning something up, ya perverts! I proceed to wipe the dirt and grime off of my hands on the overalls, but that did nothing but get more grime on my hands. "Fuck.. I need some water." I stretch my back out and pop it back into place and walk to the kitchen through the side door. "Oh! Mornin', Mr. Alabaster." Came a thick country accent from the fridge. "Hm? Oh, morning Jack." He was the farmhand that Uncle Frank hired the same time he did me. He was a lion, and a massive one at that. When the two of us went into town, the only other person to rival him was Mr. Henson, the elephant shopkeeper who was very sweet, but also had a very sexy black and grey beard, but last I'd heard, Mr. Henson was still married.
I'll admit it, Jack was pretty damn handsome, too. He had bright green eyes, greener than any grass I've seen, and a beautiful mane, since he spends at least an hour in the bathroom every morning. I know from experience, since the drive to the farm took several hours and I nearly peed myself when Jack wouldn't get out of the bathroom. After I rehydrate myself, we walk outside and to the barn. I watch Jack as he effortlessly lifts up some of the hay bales and places them on the pile while I clean out a few of the stalls. "So, Mr. Alabaster, I was gunna head into town, ya need anythin'?" Jack had wiped a bit of sweat off his brow as he spoke. "If you could get me a soda or a candy, I'd appreciate it." I say as I finish with the stall. I help Jack with the last few bales, and he's off to town. I go inside to take a break, flopping on the couch and turning on the TV. A few minutes later, in the middle of a rerun of Jeopardy, I heard a sudden knock at the door. I get up and walk to the door, curious as to who it might be.
I open the door, but no one was there. "The hell..?" I say as I look along the porch. I look down and see a package on the porch. I tilt my head as I stare at the box. Great-Uncle Frank never ordered anything, Jack wouldn't do it since he gets his supplements from a friend in town.. I go to pick up the box and find it much heavier than I thought. My arms wobble as I carry the box inside and place it on the dining room table, which causes a huge banging sound. Thankfully, no one was home. I take out my Swiss Army knife and cut it open, which reveal a few medium-sized bottles of a thick grey liquid. I turn the bottle and read the name of the bizarre fluid: "Africa Wilds Supps", and its tag line: "We Make A Wild Man". My eyebrow raised in curiosity, and I looked at the address. It was addressed to a man named Chris Baker in Nevada, which was a few states over. I couldn't afford to send it back, and Great-Uncle Frank certainly wouldn't. I quickly grab the box and heave it up to my room, placing it on my bed which causes the mattress to depress itself in the middle.
I take one of the drinks out and open it, taking a little sip at first, and nearly spit it out. "God, that tasted horrible!" I say and rush to the bathroom to throw up, but when I do, my body makes me stop. Not my mind, not myself, but my body. _I stand back up and go back to my room, noticing the pair of forgotten weights with attachable plates. I'd gotten those with some of the money my folks sent me, promising myself I'd use them as often as I could. A year later, and they had collected a fine layer of dust. Brushing it away with my hand, I go and pick the two up without any weights attached. My arms began to burn almost immediately as I lifted them. Only a minute goes by before I put them back. I dart to the opened shake and take a big swig this time, the substance now tasting less bitter. Feeling a strange sense of invigoration, I go to the weights and the two pound plates to them and begin to lift them. I felt my arms get less and less sore as I lifted the weights. I finish off the first shake and open a second one, but I barely notice before my phone buzzes that I'd drank half of the second one. "Woah.." I wipe my mouth with my hand, which normally felt fluffy, but now it was rough and calloused. I look at my hand and see it has tough, leathery grey skin on it, with a few tufts of golden hair poking out. Actually.. a _lot of places on my body was like that. Before I can think anything else on it, I return to the weights and continue to lift them.
My arms soon have a comfortable burn to them as I add more and more weight plates, barely noticing as my body continues to change. My hands soon become large and calloused all over; my arms packing with muscles and fat; my shoulders broadening and bunching with muscles; my legs packing muscles and fat. I drop the weights, which causes a loud _BANG!_to echo through the house. I finish off the shake and rip open the other shakes and drink them all, enjoying the taste now. I drop the empty bottles and look at myself in my mirror.
If there was a time to be in a cartoon, it'd be now.
My jaw was practically to the floor as I stare at myself. Muscles combined with fat practically covered every inch of my body. The only thing left of my original form was my head and, as I pull my shorts down, my measly cock. A sudden surge of power and testosterone rushes through me, and I groan as I feel my gums split open, my mouth momentarily filled with blood before my tusks grow in as I feel my head changing. I feel my nose begin to grow out as the black snout is turned to gray as two wide holes grow out and I begin to breathe through it. My ears change from fluff to leathery skin as they thin and spread out, becoming wide and flappy ears as new sounds flood them. I feel my feet begin to burn as they meld into wide, three-digit legs with rough knees and no soft pads. As my transformation finishes, I feel myself grow. Not with muscle, but literally grow. The ground becomes farther away as I increase in height. As I do, my overalls tear apart as the golden buttons fly off. Next goes my shirt, and as my head bumps one of the exposed I-beams on the roof, I feel my underwear stretch out before tearing. I was absolutely hung, my cock now triple the length it used to be. As I wrap a hand around my cock, I hear the familiar sound of a lion singing a song as he approaches the house.