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This wasn't the help Simba had envisioned in the slightest.

His barrel chest heaved greatly as he took in his swelling form, arms looking thicker than elephant legs and likely strong enough to pick up the grey-skinned beasts with little trouble. His back billowed outward at a rapid pace as his view of the savanna he lived in increased at the same rate. More and more beef piled on his leonine frame as if his body was designed to do nothing but grow.

Slowly, surely, every single one of his measurements leapt by inches at a time, creaking ever larger with every passing second. The sensation of growing was electric to his core, inundating him with pleasure any time he moved. Feeling his muscles grinding against each other proved far more exhilarating than anything else he'd experienced in his life.

That ape certainly had an interesting way of 'helping' him.

***

As the newly crowned king of the Pride Lands, Simba inherited not only the prestigious title stolen by his treacherous uncle, but also all the responsibility that came with it. As an adult, however, he felt more than capable of bearing the burden that followed.

What stuck out in his mind, though, was just how easily his father had been deceived, the elder lion tricked into his death at the hands of his brother.

It had him thinking long and hard about what that implied about himself. Was he that susceptible to lies as well? He certainly didn't think so, but how could he be sure? It wasn't like he could blame his father either as he, too, had been betrayed by his uncle, lured into the path of the wildebeest stampede that ultimately took the former king's life.

He made himself promise that he wouldn't let anything like that happen to him. The kingdom couldn't bear another reign as catastrophic as Scar's was.

That was the moment he made the decision to seek Rafiki's help, knowing the ape might have some sort of advice he could take to heart. It was there under the starlit sky that he relayed his intentions to the mandrill. The want - no, need- to prevent another uprising, to avoid a similar fate to his father.

He watched the monkey with great eagerness, waiting to hear what wisdom may pour from the aged shaman. A few moments passed before the mandrill's face lit up with the telltale sign of an idea materializing in his head, only it wasn't some kind of sage insight, but rather a 'thing' of sorts. That had him intrigued.

Aid came in the form of a fetid-smelling fluid, something musky and not entirely transparent - it wasn't the obvious, he was intimately familiar with that from his own downtime. In spite of the wretched stench he gulped it down, holding his breath the entire time until it was gone. He'd been through some ordeals in the past, and while that might not have been the worst thing he'd ever had to do, it certainly ranked up there.

It was immediately after downing the strange substance that Simba insisted on finding out what that was supposed to do for him. He knew the mandrill was experienced in the ways of channeling magical and spiritual energy, having picked it up over years of devoted study, so he had no question that the shaman understood what he was looking for. He just wished that knowledge was imparted onto him.

Rafiki didn't even answer, merely smiling as he regarded the lion in front of him, sensing the nature of his assistance to be well on its way to working. It might not have been what the king intended, but he planned on delivering exactly what was asked of him.

The silence from the monkey ruffled Simba's russet mane. He was about to press the question again when an odd feeling in his limbs stopped him dead in his tracks. The random increase in awareness coalesced in his appendages, working its way to the tips of his digits where the magic began its course. His heart nearly beat out of his chest.

In a fraction of a second he felt the bones in his paws shift on their own, creaking and stretching, yet not hurting in the slightest. He couldn't make heads or tails of the bizarre sensation even while it happened right in front of his face.

And then it ended; the result of that substance was finally clear - no longer did he have paws but now hands and feet, complete with fingers and toes that felt alien to him.

But the weirdest part of all was the thumbs. While he gave his new digits an experimental clench, he made sure to pay special attention to his newly gained thumbs, noting how they seemed both foreign and natural to him at the same time. But how was that possible?

He was about to ask the ape about that specifically when he realized how unusual standing on all fours felt now. A step back resulted in him falling on his hindquarters, though for some reason not thinking it as strange despite that normally being an uncomfortable position.

It was then that he noticed how the rest of his body had changed - his posture had shifted dramatically, changing his stance to plantigrade without him realizing, most likely due to his focus being held on his transformed hands and feet. The alterations left him speechless, easily the weirdest thing he'd seen in his life. He looked like one of those humans now! Was that the point, to have the fighting capabilities of a lion as refined through the dimensions of a hairless ape? The prospect had him rather confused, but he figured the change in perspective would give him the upper hand in taking on whatever would-be attackers tried their luck in challenging his right to the throne.

At the very least, Simba's lean musculature remained, giving him a boost of power that a human naturally wouldn't. That much was apparent when he let his newly acquired fingers roam around his definition. It wasn't anywhere close to what he expected to get from the monkey, yet it technically was what was asked for.

His tail swayed behind him and he pushed himself to his feet, stumbling along the way due to not being familiar with keeping steady using only half his limbs. Eventually he got the hang of it, surprised that he didn't need his hands in the process at all and giving him the insight as to why primates were so proficient in everything they did. This could really work for him!

But then he saw the mandrill continue to give him a knowing look. Something was up, and he didn't know what.

Well, it didn't take him long to find out. A quick glance downward revealed his already brawny physique inch larger, bulging his eyes out as wide as saucers. Had he not witnessed it in real time he'd have dismissed the claim of such a thing happening as a figment of an overactive imagination.

But the development spoke for itself. He couldn't deny that it occurred at all, his hands feeling more of himself than was there before. Flicking his gaze to the mandrill showed how the shaman's expression remained unflinching in spite of seeing him suddenly gain mass out of thin air. It was then when he recognized what his true aid was the whole time.

His brain couldn't comprehend the sensation of his body piling on musculature without any sort of trade-off. How was such a thing possible? He had no clue, but it was. Where could the shaman have learned a trick like this?

The billowing mounds of beef that was his chest proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was no mere illusion, unless the monkey could somehow deceive his mind into believing the weight hanging off his torso was genuine. No, it was real, and it was really growing without any signs of slowing down.

As was the rest of him. His arms were never something he paid much attention to - not that he was the type to care about the muscle he put on, if anyone was - but there wasn't any way to refute how quickly they were blimping up, steadily creaking larger as heft stretched out his pelt with every passing second. He had no way of knowing what any of these specific muscles were called as that was never something taught to him, but presumably after this was over their existence wouldn't be ignored.

The biggest surprise to him was that none of this was painful in the first place, much like rearranging his skeleton didn't faze him at all. In fact, he found it to be rather pleasurable, almost as if receiving a full-body massage from someone able to reach under his skin.

A low groan rumbled in his throat as he began to embrace his changing form, coming to enjoy the feeling of his physique burgeoning from nothing at all. This wasn't anything he could've conceivably anticipated, but that didn't matter when the outcome performed just as good as what he had in mind, if not better. He certainly felt powerful like this.

It was during his slight revelry that he discovered something amiss about his predicament - he was getting taller on top of everything else happening. At first he thought the lack of light was messing with his vision, but a quick glance at the mandrill showed his suspicions to be correct. While the monkey stood at roughly half his height before, now it was closer to a third and dwindling fast. And yet there still wasn't any sign of alarm on the shaman's face. How much of this was planned?!

And what did Simba make of all this? Finding himself growing in all dimensions by some means well beyond his comprehension... He had to admit, he didn't mind it in the slightest. The strength latent in his flourishing bulk could at least prove useful in a number of scenarios, and that number only grew as he did.

And how much he grew! While his pectorals appeared to be hulking before, they were nothing compared to what they were now, heavy with swollen beef that were continually stuffed larger than his belly after a good hunt. So much they'd expanded that it forced his nipples to start pointing downward - the prominence of which was another development he only just realized.

Not a single thing on his body could be described as petite, not that he was necessarily small before, but now his previous size was thoroughly blown out of the water. Arms needed to take down prey could do so much more, bunching up thick enough to carry multiple antelopes at once in each limb. He relished in the way they pressed against his chest, much like how he savoured his brawny back muscles bunching up against one another whenever he shifted his shoulders back.

This wasn't the help Simba had envisioned in the slightest. It was, however, the help he didn't know he wanted.

His body was sensitive to the touch, a by-product of the substance he consumed, no doubt. Every part of his frame tingled with electric bliss as his growth continued. He couldn't stop himself from feeling his bloating form grow as the seconds ticked on.

And that tickled a part of his brain he wasn't expecting to hear from. The constant stimulation happening to his meaty body had him moan in delight, appreciating the waves of pleasure washing over him, to the point where his flaccid member - also having benefited from the growth - sprung to life, thicker than his wrist and flanked by a set of pendulous balls hanging low and fat down his swollen thighs.

That's where his focus quickly shifted to, the sensation of erotic ecstasy too much to ignore. Having what felt like a log of his own lionhood filling up his hands had him gasp both out of shock and lewd gratitude, even more thankful when he recognized there was no feasible way to grip the entirety of it with both hands; it was just too big!

And that wasn't to say anything of his cum tanks, positively roiling with seed that he longed to shoot off. The feeling of which sent shivers ripping up his spine at both how heavy they were in his hands as well as how much they outsized the pair he used to have. He'd spent quite a lot of time with his mouth around his nether region, lapping at his genitals when he found a moment of free time, but there'd be no possible way he could ever satisfy himself like that now - not only would his mouth not fit around his girthy crotch rocket, but there was too much densely-packed muscle in the way to even get it down there in the first place!

His rippling quads involuntarily flexed as he relished in his newfound gains, they themselves each thicker around than his body used to be. Striated beef bulged from each thigh, acting as the perfect frame for a pillar unlike anything the animal kingdom had ever laid their eyes on. If there were ever a living monument to animalistic virility, it'd be him.

Even moreso when he discovered his shaft growing faster than he anticipated. The rest of him expanded at a steady clip - practically exploding with beef, all things considered - but his throbbing cock absolutely surged way bigger than even what he thought it should. Not that he minded, of course; it simply caught him off-guard. How could it not? It wasn't every day someone's pole went from snugly fitting in their mouth to actually encroaching on the size of their leg.

Lions were all about pride, something Simba learned from the first moment he was able to understand anything. The family he'd grown to cherish over the years lived in a pride, teaching him all the reasons he should be proud of the position he was in and how important he was to the natural order of things. He internalized every lesson thrown his way.

But the pride he was currently obsessed with? Far more important than anything else, especially with how much pleasure it coursed through his enormous form like a plume of lava rising to the surface. It slithered up his sculpted torso, the sheen of sweat on his fur coating the turgid flesh as the tip kissed the underside of his stuffed pectorals. There were several others he wanted present in order to witness this unprecedented growth, but alas they were likely asleep for the evening. No matter, he'd show them his progress the next day once his gains stopped.

That's if they would, of course.

It was out of the corner of his eye that he noticed something peculiar, familiar to him and yet still foreign. Looking at the object had him taken aback when he recognized what it was in the lack of light - the sloped secondary peak of Pride Rock! That was at eye-level with him now? He wasn't anywhere close to the height of that in what felt like just a moment ago. How was that possible?!

Only then did he realize there was no slowing down at all. He loomed large over the landscape, an imposing figure of leonine masculinity blimping up several hundred pounds heavier every second. His shadow would stretch for kilometres in every direction were the sun high in the sky.

The moonlight at least kept the area bright enough to allow him to observe everything going on, but soon the lands he ruled over would be much harder to oversee thanks to his chest intruding on his vision. There was too much of him for his body to handle, so much sweaty bulk that everything below his waist was obscured.

And that suited him just fine.

More than fine, in fact - he loved it! No matter where on his monstrous physique he grabbed - upper body, lower body, musculature, cock - it all fed back into being a king unlike any that came before him; a towering feline, impossibly manly, loved by all around... Er, that was pretty much just himself at the moment, but that was more than alright with him.

Being the only one who could possibly adore his immensity meant he had full access to his achingly hard prick, now pressing against his prodigious chest as the tip crested into view. While he'd have loved to have been able to service himself like he used to, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he much preferred the leviathan schlong that he had to wrap his arms around now if he wanted to pleasure himself, if only because there was so much more to pleasure now.

Which he had no qualms about doing right out in the open; he was the king, after all.

His reddish mane acted like the perfect frame for his handsome face, one beset by an overabundance of euphoric bliss brought on by his magnificence, a tremendous size worthy of his royal lineage. One hand stroked his regal length while the other balled into a fist, pumped in the air to flex his bulging bicep as if putting on a show for himself. The split peaks of the bloated muscle just about doubled in size when tensed, pushing it so tantalizingly close to his muzzle that he couldn't not have a taste. It wouldn't be right to celebrate himself if he didn't experience every aspect of his sumptuous body.

Lashing through the crevices formed by bulk forced onto his frame, his tongue licked through the sweat-matted fur, letting him savour the very masculine essence that wept from his pores, something unmistakably him yet even moreso than before. He relished in the taste of pure man that exuded from his swollen form, also in love with the hypermuscular physique he sported. If one thing was certain it'd be that he had no equal, past, present, or future.

It was during this act of self-worship that Simba lost track of how much his pillar grew and soon found himself staring up at a cock that even towered over him. That wasn't something he expected to see so soon, but that only fueled his hunger to get even bigger; to grow beyond the realm of possibility; to ascend.

His cock seemed inclined to agree with the idea and surged far faster than it had just been doing, thickening to the point that his behemothian body didn't appear quite so large anymore. It still was, of course, but having a shaft that outsized even himself gave the comparison credence.

But the biggest transformation that he'd missed up to then had been his massive cum tanks, fattened with seed that churned the whole time he'd been growing and dropped well past his knees as they made anything that happened to stumble into them look tiny. His feet soon found themselves covered by his hairy sac, a fact not lost on him as his orbs eventually contacting the ground had his tongue lolling out of his mouth from sheer ecstasy alone. This was far better than it had any right to be.

All the while muscle continued to pile on him, never stopping for even a millisecond as that might mean his fun would be cut short. His chest kept invading his field of vision, blocking out more and more of the world in front of his face and forcing him to keep tabs on their own enormity instead. That wasn't anywhere close to a problem as he longed for the ability to give them a lick when they finally got big enough to.

His back had practically exploded with beef, monstrously mountainous as it slowly, but surely, surpassed the few ranges dotting the plains. The ridges caused by his preposterous heft could lose entire herds of elephants between muscles that rose many dozens of metres from his body, but could easily tighten in an instant should he flex hard enough. His traps were mammothian in their magnitude, rising higher than they had any right to and giving him a new highest point on his body, the pair of them just peaking over the top of his head. There were also his lats, which, like the rest of his torso, forced him to grow wider in order to accommodate the literal tons of bulk that he'd come to love.

And while he could just focus on his trunk, it'd be criminal not to give any attention to his humongous arms. So thick with muscle mass they grew that they couldn't rest properly against his torso, not that he minded in the slightest. Just his triceps alone were gigantic in their immensity as just one was likely bigger than all of his subjects combined, that horseshoe of bulk effortlessly stronger too. Those biceps of his were no joke either, larger than his head at rest but jumping up in size tremendously when tensed, eclipsing the moon from anything underneath them.

But his arms weren't the only limbs to take advantage of his seemingly endless expansion as his quads erupted in a grotesque display of masculinity, bulging with bulk in all directions as their persistent inflation forced his stance to spread every so often.

And while he never really paid attention to them before, he couldn't deny the colossal mounds of muscle that were his ass cheeks - and to be fair, he never focused on anyone's rump until now. Brimming with untapped power, they could handily level whatever terrain was unlucky enough to be caught beneath them.

Those dimpled globes of Simba's protruded well beyond what even primates were known to achieve, his tail feverishly whipping their enormity as the craving for more size raged on inside him. The flexible appendage appeared comically small in comparison to the rest of him despite keeping up in proportion. He wouldn't be the rightful ruler of the Pride Lands if any part of him didn't measure up to the impossible standard he was in the process of setting.

And he loved the thought of that - no one anywhere coming close to the seemingly limitless potential of his expansion, where even the largest of animals would be left in the dust. Even if someone, somehow, managed to find a way to explode in size like he did, he had a gut feeling there'd be no way they could reach the heights he was trailblazing.

The idea of being so unfathomably large that his claim to the throne went unmatched coaxed a spurt of pre to belch forth from his titanic tool, the translucent fluid dribbling down the flesh in rivulets as wide across as rivers. All he could smell was his urgent need to let his load loose, but alas his testosterone factories couldn't seem to produce enough to actually get the job done.

That might not be an issue much longer as his incomparable orbs steadily asserted themselves even over his bloated legs, which prompted him to shove them behind him for the sake of comfort. There they blimped up unabated, inflating with enough roiling spunk to sire entire generations of descendants, yet not slowing down in the slightest. Were he to bear any fruit from his loins with the way he was now, he had no doubt his offspring would end up as a worthy successor to his reign.

So caught up in imagining his future progeny that he failed to realize until that very moment that his arms could no longer reach around his colossal cock, a discovery which elicited yet more pre drooling from the tip of his imposing dong. His endowment currently tipped the scales far harder than the rest of him did, making him wonder just how much larger it was than his body.

Sensitivity wasn't something that went away as it burgeoned, however, which was key to his continued longing to see it surpass every realm of reality it could, surging larger than any other living being in existence and not stopping.

The thing with perpetual growth was that there wasn't any known cap on what his limits looked like. His cock kept getting huger than what it was a mere second ago, still shooting preseed like a leaky geyser that only just breached the surface and hadn't established itself yet. The slimy substance oozed down the turgid flesh, tracing around throbbing veins that kept the sex organ diamond-hard with blood, coating whatever parts of him happened to be in contact. The carpet of red fur he now had down the front of his monstrous trunk collected more of the fluid than the rest of his pride could.

One thing Simba didn't account for, though, was that sooner or later his strength wouldn't keep up with the flourishing mass of fuckflesh attached to his crotch. The thought occurred to him at some point, but he didn't think that was possible. His overwhelming strength was more than enough to handle any test that came his way, be it brought on by someone else or even himself. There wasn't anything he couldn't take on!

Or so he thought as the utter magnitude of his monumental obelisk completely overpowered the might of his intense musculature, slipping out of what meagre grip of it he had left and slamming to the ground with an impact that could raise the dead.

That allowed him the perfect opportunity to fondle his obscene fleshpole with wild abandon, forgoing any grace one of his species and title would be expected to possess. The way his member kept on forcing his legs farther apart had him wondering if he'd be able to stay standing for much longer, or if he'd even like the thought of that.

It took the idea coming to life before deciding; the answer was yes, unequivocally.

He writhed around on the tumescent log of feline fuckmeat, his sweaty, hirsute pecs pressing against his prodigious prick and not even leaving a mark in the flesh, a testament to the awe-inspiring might of his shaft. He reveled in the impossibility of the situation, the preposterous nature of his very being, but also that the growth wasn't anywhere close to tapering off.

His crotch rocket blimped up across the landscape, knocking over whatever was in its path as it utterly dominated the savanna. So many different rock formations pressed into the turgid mass of cock as it spread in all dimensions, all crumbling to dust beneath the might of his ungodly pillar. He thought he'd have to wait until morning to show his subjects of his newfound size? The announcement would come much sooner than that, he was sure of it.

But even with his schlong achieving sizes that any other animal would deem inconceivable, that didn't mean the rest of his body had waned in its ascension. It couldn't possibly keep up with the powerhouse that was his unstoppable prick, but it didn't need to as he was still in a league of his own.

What once only stretched a few hundred metres away from him now reached over a kilometre, with his gargantuan back leading the charge. The immense stature of his vast musculature dwarfed almost anything even comparable to it, including that secondary peak he'd surpassed earlier. He couldn't believe how massive he'd gotten in such a short amount of time.

The tons of bulk that piled on his broad frame showed in dividends when it came to displaying the raw manliness of his unimaginable physique. His traps were far and away the tallest thing on his body - not including his magnificent dick, of course - looming high above the top of his head and exercising their might over his flexibility by making it more difficult to twist his view in an increasing number of angles. Similar things could be said of his lats, which now spread far and wide enough to house entire herds of his subjects, perhaps even all of them if both were used. The sheer power built up within them certainly fought his overmuscled arms for the right to use that space.

But the star of Simba's show was undoubtedly the megalithic cannon that barely looked like it was even jutting out from his shredded pelvis at all - it appeared like quite the opposite was true, in fact, almost as if he was an overly masculine ornament adorning the majesty that was his cubmaker.

The revelation of just how outsized he was by his own endowment had him weak all over, every tensing muscle relaxing as much as it could as he savoured his heft. As much as he wanted to get his tongue slathering over his rod, he knew there wasn't a possible way for that to happen unless he suddenly lost literal tons of weight to allow him access, which was absolutely the last thing he wanted now!

But his pecs were getting tantalizingly close to his snout. He might've been able to force his head forward for a simple taste had the rest of his swollen neck not been crowding around it. No matter how much he wriggled and writhed, his prize was just out of reach. Nevertheless he persisted, not letting a concern like that get him down. After all, he knew the goal of his chest growing large enough to make love to was inevitable, he just had to be patient.

Meanwhile his length had lost all semblance of control. Not bound by the laws of nature, it groaned as it burgeoned across his lands, protesting the various landmarks that he once used to make his way around with. From the grasslands to the forests, to the desert and the jungle, all ecosystems he'd found himself in at one point in time now got the chance to experience him simultaneously. Everything the light touched was his kingdom, and while there wasn't much of it at the moment with only the moon shining overhead, that didn't mean he wasn't about to let his father's words fade into irrelevance. He had a proud legacy to live up to.

The biggest benefit to his pillar's uncontained growth, Simba thought, was the unfathomable amount of testosterone rocking his system from balls that each held more fluid than an oasis, forcing bulk upon him as it had nowhere else to go. He accepted it wholeheartedly, of course, as why wouldn't he want to prove to everyone what he was capable of? Well, it was more to prove to himself that he had no equal, but he didn't need anyone to tell him of that fact.

His body had no choice to get taller if it wanted to accept any and all muscle heaped upon it, but that didn't mean that was the fastest dimension of his to grow. So wide across he'd become that his shoulders stretched longer across than Pride Rock was tall, and knowing how long the rock formation took to scale meant he'd climbed the tallest peak in his goal to utterly dominate the landscape with his own monstrous enormity. The realization of the feat had him belch forth a glob of pre thick enough to coat entire acres of grassland.

With a boost of masculine hormones came an increase in body hair, the carpet he'd developed earlier thickened as his form was assailed by testosterone, turning into a veritable forest of luscious fur as red as his mane that forged a trail from his overly stuffed chest down to the base of his inconceivably leviathan spire. More manly fur spread around other parts of his body, notably under his armpits, but also along the cleft of those dimpled globes of might he called his ass cheeks. All changes to his behemothian frame were welcome; there was nothing he'd turn down.

More and more he found his arms unable to rest where they used to not a few seconds ago. The blast of vitality pummeling his system had them forced higher up along his torso as there was simply too much leonine beef to contend with otherwise. He'd grown to be too much man for his own body to handle, and it was everything he wanted.

Neither one of his legs could really straddle the beast of a cock between them, but that didn't mean they weren't something he wasn't proud of. Each limb positively exploded with deserved heft that bulged larger than the land his ancestors lived on, packed to the brim with enough power to register a terrifying shockwave on a seismograph were he able to reach the ground anymore. That might just be a thing of the past now.

But with all that sexual essence coursing through his veins, it frustrated him that his growing body wouldn't let him blow his load yet. That wouldn't do! He had to take matters into his own hands if he wanted to achieve what his destiny was.

It didn't appear to be much when stacked up against his incomparable crotch cannon, but his need for release had him squirming on that turgid lionhood harder than he'd done with anyone else in his pride. The sight of his gorgeous body alone was enough to make him want to let loose, the feeling of his gigantic physique enough to make him demand it. All his nose could pick up was his own inescapable musk, the aroma of virility that saturated the air around him, intoxicating in the potency of the scent and how much it tickled his brain. If only he could...

Finally! It took far too long to happen, in his humble opinion, but his muzzle just made contact with his bloated pectorals, those chest boulders heavier than even the mountains erected by the forces of nature, and likely strong enough to render them to dust were he ever given a chance to try. The taste was indescribable, everything he thought it would be. His tongue lashed through the thick, sweaty red fur as he moaned out in glee at how irresistible the masculine flavour was. The payoff was well worth the wait in his mind.

That got his hips bucking faster, grinding his increasingly immobile body against a shaft longer than many country's borders. The urge to flood the lands - _his­_lands - with his virile cum rose as fast as he did. His mind became squarely focused on making the inevitable happen.

And after all that, after all the pleasures that came with unrelenting growth, as well as the jackpot of godhood amongst mortals, his cravings came to fruition. It took a herculean amount of effort in order to accomplish, but the fevered thrusting of his pelvis brought about the greatest orgasm anyone would see throughout history.

Cum tanks that towered high above the savanna - each orb a roiling reservoir holding more jizz than there was water in the nearest lake - echoed their proclamation to drain themselves across the lands, forcing his dam to burst wide open and shoot viscous lionbatter up his bulging cum pipe. Veins thicker than all rivers he'd ever seen kept his endowment diamond-hard in the endeavour to erupt harder than any volcano recorded.

It took no time at all for the first of many volleys of spunk to shoot far into the distance, the location where it landed unknown to him as his vision contained pretty much nothing but himself in it. It had to be far away since he couldn't even feel the impacts caused by what had to have been megalitres of his own output.

The euphoric bliss racing through his nerves nearly overloaded his brain as it tried in vain to keep track of the overwhelming sensation of his body supplanting the laws of nature with his own. He roared at the top of his lungs, alerting anyone not yet present to witness his incredible ascension, ensuring that his audience would measure in quite possibly the millions.

What had to have been a flood of biblical proportions rocketed from the tip of his monolithic prick over the course of several moments, and yet he didn't feel like he'd come anywhere close to emptying the colossal testosterone factories supplying him with the experience of a lifetime. His mammothian sac throbbed lewdly right behind his ample rump, pulsing with need as the thick fur between his cheeks pressed against the trail of russet hair adorning the cleavage of his balls. He was one sexy, hairy beast, and he wouldn't let anyone deny him that title.

The onslaught of ecstasy caused him to perceive multiple eternities having passed before the first semblance of his libido waning was felt. The blur of time meant little to him as he relished in his staggering victory over a foe that existed only inside his head, though he didn't let that slow his celebration in the slightest.

In spite of his best efforts - especially with his nose buried firmly in his swollen chest, huffing as much ambrosial musk as he could - his flow gradually dwindled to a crawl as he blasted out another pond's worth of sticky cum, that being the last burst of climax he was capable of. It took him a hell of a while to reach this point, but it was totally worth it in the end.

His release coincided with the rising of the sun, finally shedding some light on his incomparable frame and allowing him to see things hidden from the grotesquely huge shadows he now naturally made. The biggest of which were his subjects, now his devoted followers, who knew their ruler would protect them from whatever ills may try to befall their lands. It was the smart decision to make in his eyes as he now possessed a body truly worthy of a king. Nobody would dare try to take him out now.