Resonance
Wrote this one just because I felt like it.
Resonance
By Luther
Kyle wasn't the type to go out dancing every other night at a club or wherever but, when invited from time to time, he would go. He was a goat who liked to have fun on these occasions and decided to throw caution to the wind when he was asked to go to a local rave. He didn't quite know what to expect, having never actually gone to one before . . . or at least one that billed itself as such.
From the moment he passed through the doors he knew it was going to be more extreme than the clubs he went to, in every way. The music was louder and it was almost impossible to think straight, let alone talk. The place might have been an old warehouse, it was hard to tell since he couldn't see the ceiling or far walls. Somehow it was simultaneously darker and brighter than any club he had been to as well, Kyle couldn't see further than a few feet ahead of him, save for the swinging and bobbing glow-sticks and rings and such. When the roving lights cut a path through it, in those quick moments, he could see the heaving sea of people around him.
It was warm but not too hot, close but not cramped, the goat was never that far from anyone but had elbow room. He soon found himself falling into the scene, going with old standby moves, whole body in motion and hoping that nobody really noticed or cared that he wasn't the best dancer. There must have been a fog machine somewhere, the cool stuff collected around their ankles and reached up thin tendrils around the dancers on occasion.
Some ways over, up at the booth, the disc jockey sighed -though nobody heard it over the bass. He made his way through the box of records, looking for something new to play. Something he hadn't done for a while.
Then he saw it, a record with a bright orange sleeve near the back. A friend of his had given it to him, promising it was perfect for the dance floor, but he had yet to play it. The jockey never had cause to doubt his musical tastes. The night had yet to really pick up and he enjoyed the challenge of running blind. Why not? He let it play. There was a few seconds of silence and then a stab of rapid notes that settled into something sublime. The floor seemed to be grabbed by a new sense of life right in front of his eyes.
Wow!
Kyle, meanwhile, had stopped caring what others thought at this point. He just wanted to have fun and nothing else mattered. He felt like a goat possessed. It was as if the world fell away and everything was about this long and continuous moment. He began to dance in a way he knew he couldn't but it didn't really register to him. There was something about this song, something he couldn't place or really bothered to that made him act so differently. Everyone around him was under the effect as well, whether they knew it or not.
Every pounding beat sent a shock through Kyle's body. It reverberated in his chest, shook his teeth a little, but ultimately culminated right in his groin of all places. Each time, for a span as long as a heartbeat, nothing else existed except for his cock and balls. He couldn't explain why. He lost himself for a moment, long enough to feel just how inexplicably amazing it was, long enough to not realize it was making him grow hard on the dance floor.
Why was this happening? Yes, he would admit that sometimes in the past he would catch sight of a shapely rump on the dance floor and feel a twitch or two in his groin, the telltale of an erection on the horizon, but then he would just dance a little harder. The exertion and distraction of the whirling lights would wash away the problem before it brought embarrassment from anyone noticing. This time, however, it was not going away.
This time he didn't care.
It was as if the bass line had found some strange sexual resonance frequency in him and was amplifying everything, building up greater and greater with every beat. Kyle felt like he could do anything or be anything. He felt huge and high up atop the world. It was having an effect on him.
A bit of context may help the uninformed. Kyle had a bit of a problem, a condition, a feature to him. In certain situations of intimacy or extreme elation he would grow to obscene sizes in a more sexual nature. He had learned to live with it. Thankfully it occurred in private the vast majority of the time, though events to the contrary were always memorable for good or ill. Either way, things always returned to normal shortly afterwards.
Currently everything was feeling tight in his pants, tighter than usual. It was unmistakable sign that this feature of his was coming to bear but he failed to notice it. His gyrating hips shook his balls about. The goat felt warm and pulled on the collar of his shirt a little, revealing more light brown fur. Nobody stopped him, they seemed to press in closer. He began to see the crowd more clearly, flashes and glimpses of horns, pointed ears, scales and feathers, and fur of every stripe, spot, and color everywhere he looked. For once, he felt like he was part of them instead of simply among them.
His balls stopped slinging loosely in the crotch of his jeans, they started pressing against every side, filling the space beneath his cock entirely as formed a tent, straining against the fabric. The goat felt a weight growing there but paid it no mind beyond how wonderful it felt. He found himself mouthing one word:
"More."
Was it a command? Maybe the laws of the universe were making an exception for him, letting mind shape matter? Maybe the dance floor had an actual magic to it, channeled through that record? Maybe he was gripped by the numinous spirit of the dance and it was changing him to reflect how he felt? It didn't matter and that was the point. His body obeyed.
Kyle felt his sense of balance change, that new weight between his legs was playing havoc with his moves but he so adapted quickly that it felt as though it had always been a part of him. He was growing, unbeknownst to him, his thickening member beginning to push upward instead of out, crawling up and out of his waistband. Things began to feel . . . constricted. His pants were so tight they felt like a sausage casing, which was appropriate considering that was what they were acting as. For the first time he paused and considered what was happening to him, the strange haze that had overtaken his mind lifted just enough to allow it. He looked down and could see a strange shape in the front of his pants and shirt worthy of confusion.
Of course, anyone else had little chance of noticing this for the longest time. With all the motion, sound, lights, and wispy fog that pervaded, it was hard for anyone to pierce the penumbra long enough for definite shapes to linger in anyone's mind. The moment anyone thought they saw the bulbous outline of his malehood, someone else would shift into position in front of them, blocking view, or lights would flash across their eyes and the sight would be lost.
It took someone actually brushing against it to get the idea that something was off. In these sort of dances, like it or not, one would often find the body of another dancing against them in what became more than merely sexualized. Kyle soon had the slender shape of another dancer pressing their rump against him, bent down and slowly extending the legs to glide it up across his crotch. They soon stopped.
Kyle knew they felt it when the figure's head whipped back around.
The light passed over them and, for the first time, he got a decent look at the former silhouette. It was a mink, ears perked and eyebrow arched, the expression on their face said it all. Kyle still wasn't sure if it was a boy or girl, the frame was thin and features soft despite the wide eyes. The wandering lights passed over the mink again and Kyle got a better look. It was a male, effeminate but male, and the mink had come closer. His hand went down below and grabbed the goat's crotch, fingers probing through the denim. This mink had the incredulity of someone willing to believe that Kyle had stuffed something down his pants than believe all that was actually him.
Excessive and unimpeded groping began to convince the mink otherwise. This was even despite the fact that Kyle's bulge was expanding like heavy balloon. He just kept fondling as if entranced by it -and the odd attraction Kyle felt towards this mink-boy wasn't helping matters. Those delicate fingers traced the throbbing length of Kyle's cock as it lengthened further up his shirt, mouth going agape at the sheer size of it. Maybe a foot long, maybe longer?
Kyle felt as if his pants were reaching the bursting point. At last they relented and the zipper tore itself from the denim in the fact of such force pushing out against it. Trying to cover far too much, the rest of the garment gave away, failing as the compacted flesh expanded. Every stitch that broke sent his balls jutting out a little further, which seemed to grow a little larger each time in triumph. When only a few strings were valiantly holding back the monsters, Kyle groaned and his orbs surged outward, breaking free and flopping into the open air.
Meanwhile his cock had crawled further up his shirt. It pushed out firmly but was held fast by it, straining everything. All the fabric seemed to go forward, pulling tight on his collar and sleeves. If this kept up, it wouldn't be long before it went the way of his trousers. The fat and shiny head of his cock had finally reached his neck. Kyle craned back and looked down to see it greet him warmly. He could help but laugh a little and gave it a little kiss, a brush of his tongue. Predictably, he moaned.
He had finally attracted real attention. The few closest to him turned to face the goat. A flash of light revealed no disgust or shock in their faces but something closer to delighted surprise. The goat didn't know what to expect. A more rational version of him would foresee him being ridiculed and told to leave for such indecency but, for whatever reason, he was not being rational. He saw nothing inherently wrong with his situation, still in a half-fugue state.
It seemed the others saw nothing wrong either. They were inexplicably drawn to him, not quite in a trance but far more accepting of this than they would normally be. Another flash of light and he saw what he swore to be expectation in their eyes. Several of them seemed to be speaking but Kyle couldn't hear over the ever-present music. It was one word they mouthed again and again. He could almost make it out . . .
"More."
It was like his own desires were being projected onto them -or it might have been the other way around. Kyle couldn't tell, being too distracted by the mink caressing the underside of his cock through his clothing, joined by a fox who approached from behind, reaching across to add his own paw to squeeze and tease.
Kyle wobbled, the weight between his legs what becoming difficult to manage. Someone was quick to come to his aid, though. An orange and black spotted figure came in crouched low and put his arms up to cradle the goat's low hanging nuts. It was a cheetah, maybe in his early twenties smiling up at him. Kyle could already feel himself growing to fill the helpful fellow's arms. Hell, he could feel the cheetah desperately wanting that to happen even as the cat took up position on his knees to better support that swelling furry sac. Another jumped in to help the feline, it looked to be a bull in the dim light, and both worked together. Each hefted a titanic testicle the size of a watermelon. The bull was unable to resist pressing his snout against the expanding balls, breathing in deep the aroma and exhaling a blast of warm air the spread along them.
And so things continued. Kyle didn't just grow, he grew popular with the crowd here. He didn't realize exactly what his friends meant when they said it was a special sort of dance, but it seemed to be that kind of party. His unreasonably huge endowments had stopped their expansion yet nobody stopped enjoying them. It was remarkably strange and different for him to be the center of the party for once. The dance went on, time passed even though every moment was timeless, and everything was magnificent.
It was around then that he decided he would start coming to this particular rave whenever he could.
The night stretched onward, the music changed but the atmosphere remained. Long afterward, he had calmed down, got to know some of the fellow dancers he had shared the floor with, and was thinking of heading home when the sun was threatening to rise. Something was off, though. Normally by now he would shrink back down to his normal self by now. He waited longer, nothing. Others were beginning to leave and yet he was still huge.
This was new, a game changer for him if there ever was one. Kyle blinked and stated aloud: "I think that . . . I think I'm stuck this way." Such profundity!
Indeed he was. But somehow, for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to fret overly much about it. It would surely change things, moreso than it usually did when he could at least return to some degree of normalcy but he could live with it. Other hyper endowed furs were not unheard of. He tried looking at it differently (it was all he really could do) in the sense that now he had at last committed to it. The goat would become well known around this particular rave scene, returning every month when it was organized again and again. It was likely that he'd never learn why it happened to him. Oh well, one of the mysteries that made life neat.
But for now he was focused on getting back out to the parking lot without drawing too much of the wrong attention. Walking like this wouldn't be terribly difficult if he just had some kind of garment to more evenly distribute everything. On his way out, carrying his monstrously sized balls cradled in his arms, he spied the cheetah and bull from earlier.
"Hey boys!" he called to them. "Do you think I can get some help getting back home?"
They looked over and smiled, clearly still in the helpful mood.