The Muscle Effect - Aftershock
#4 of The Muscle Effect (TF Themes)
The Muscle Effect - Aftershock
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Hey, folks! It's been too long since I posted more on this, but thankfully Sanmer kept bothering me again and again until I whipped myself into shape and posted this thing up here for everyone to enjoy! Hope you have an interesting read and I look forward to your comments!
Have a good read!
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Shawn woke up with a startle, his furs spiking and with his muzzle gasping for air when he finally came to, into the bedroom lit up by the sunlight streaming through the window, its shades open.
The wolf felt cold. His furs, as he quickly felt them up, were covered in sweat, and he had made so much that he'd dampened the sheets and was now lying in the cold wetness of his own creation, upon the small bed.
He shivered, he yawned, and he breathed out deeply, chest expanding.
He ached.
"Aghhh..." he grumbled.
He was sore all over. Every movement hurt, like he'd been running a marathon, not that he had any idea how it felt like after you ran a marathon, but the wolf could imagine that his current state was not unlike that kind of a situation. Even his tail hurt, as it moved slowly along the sheets, between his legs covered by the duvet on top of him.
"Uh..." Shawn yawned, and took a wavery breath.
His headachy mind could generate only vague thoughts at the moment, mostly concerned with the soreness of his body and the strange, dream-like memories of what he assumed to be the previous night, bizarre hallucinations and mirages of -
Of what exactly?
Strange medical experiments in the abandoned fallout shelter underneath the university bio campus, the alleged location of secret meddling with his body using some sort of a secret old government super soldier formula, administered to him against his will by the demented duo of Professor Elliott Harvey, Shawn's boss, and his secret gay lover, the campus general practitioner, Doctor Spencer Gorman.
The wolf snorted to himself. This surely should've won an award as far as strange dreams went. Maybe it was his own sex-starved state of having libido but no ability that had made his mind come up with such a strange scenario, full of musk of images of cum spraying out of his -
Shawn gasped when he realized that he was having an erection - quite right so, he could feel his cock fill up and peek out of his sheath, pushing down onto his belly - and even that hurt! How could his cdick be sore? He hadn't had an aching penis since he'd overdone masturbation when he was a horny pup, years ago.
"Shit...ssshh..." Shawn squeezed his eyes shut.
He wondered if he had some Tylenol in the cabinet in the kitchen somewhere, where he kept his pills in general. Hadn't John wanted some after he'd overdone it in the gym and -
The thought of the fox hit him hard. He almost gasped, really, thinking about the sweet boy whom had decided to call the wolf as his, how he'd helped him through a lot of the shit he'd been experiencing as of late.
"Huh..."
Thinking about the fox made him realize that he couldn't remember if they had talked last night.
"Shit," Shawn grumbled.
The fox was surely worried about him - where was his phone? He lifted his aching head and looked about to try and find his phone, but couldn't see it anywhere on its usual place on the bedside table. Where'd he put it? Had he dropped it in the kitchen or something?
"Ugh."
Shawn pushed the covers aside, revealing his lean body, with its fuzzy furs and the sight of his pink, straining erection against his belly. Despite the inviting sight, he didn't touch his member, even though a bit of morning fun had been a long-time ritual until as of late when the combination of the depression and the medication had made it very difficult for him to get an erection, let alone get off when he finally did reach full mast. He didn't seem to have that kind of a problem this particular morning, though - he was practically burgeoning out of his sheath and throbbing powerfully. The piss slit was even glistening with a drop of pre-cum that had oozed out of the opening of his urethra.. It smelled musky, and his entire sheath felt a bit damp, as if he'd been aroused for a long time in his sleep.
"Damn it," the wolf muttered to himself.
He yelped when his footpaws touched the floor. How was it possible that even his footpads were sore? He stood up gingerly and took a few steps, and found that at least he wasn't feeling faint despite his entire body feeling like he'd gone through some sort of a mangler to wring him out. He yawned and scratched the base of his tail while he surveyed the small bed room for any signs of his phone. A pile of his clothes on the chair by the desk seemed promising enough - and lo and behold, his phone dropped out from a fold of his shirt which he lifted up when he rummaged through the stack of his clothing, folded with...unusual precision onto the chair. He couldn't remember doing it - and he never really did, anyway, he was more prone to just chucking it all down into a messy heap on the chair.
The phone had one new message in it, but the number it displays was no a familiar one -if it had been a text from John, his name would have been shown on the screen as it was. Shawn flicked the little envelope icon with his thumb, to open the text message.
There is a box under your bed
containing medication you have
to take to minimize residual effects.
Instruction are on the labels. Follow
them for best effect. Expect a phone call
later. You don't need to go to work at the
lab today. Stay safe and quiet.
The sender had not left a name.
Shawn dropped the phone which landed screen down upon his neatly folded pants. The wolf gasped, and stepped back, staggering over to his bed again to sit down on it, his tail frozen between his legs, now tucked under his butt while he sat and rocked on the bed.
Could it be...could it be true that he wasn't just dreaming? Was it true that everything he thought he had dreamed last night was real? Could it really be possible that scrawny him had been turned into a hulking muscle hunk, bound to a bed because the strange cocktail of chemicals also caused him to have an endless libido and urge to fuck the very air above him until his cock was spurting -
His cock throbbed at the thought, an angry reminder of everything that had taken place last night, of being bound to a table and poked and fondled and stuck with needles and -
"This isn't happening," Shawn grumbled to himself. "This isn't real..."
He sat there for several minutes, trying to figure out whether to believe himself or not, when he finally remembered the contents of the message - it talked of a box..what box? He didn't have any boxes under his bed, just...random stuff...nothing else.
He scurried onto his knees on the floor and leaned down, even if it made his temples throb and made him feel a bit faint, but he pressed on, thrusting his paw under the bed to feel up along the floor tiled floor.
His knuckles brushed against a box, definitely so, and he gripped it with fumbling paws to pull out the small white cardboard box, non-descript and without any markings on it.
"What the hell..." he grumbled.
Shawn pulled out the box from under the bed and forced himself to sit down on the floor, back resting on the edge of his bed while he put the box over his lap and opened the top. Inside were three orange pharmacy bottles, nothing unusual about them, with pills clattering inside them, and printed pharmacy labels on each of them. He rolled the bottles about, trying to read what was written on them, besides his name on each of them, and the name of the prescribing physician whom, unsurprisingly, was given as Dr. Spencer Gorman, M.D.
"Shit...fuck..." the wolf grunted.
"FOR EXCESSIVE MUSCLE TENSION. ONE TABLET PER DAY." said one bottle.
The two other bottles had different medications in them, but the labels were identical.
"FOR GONADOTROPHIN DEFICIENCY. TWO TABLETS IN THE EVENING WITH WATER AND A MEAL."
Shawn frowned. He had a basic idea of what that meant, but he had no idea how it applied to him. The hormones contained in the tablets were the kind of stuff the pituitary gland pumped out to tell the body to keep producing sex hormones - the initial messenger that was sent out to other parts of the body, to settle him down in the track of producing everything the body needed for the reproductive process. The hormones would make his testicles produce testosterone, to increase his sexual appetite, and to squeeze out more and more sperm cells as well.
"What the fuck..." Shawn grunted. What the hell was he supposed to do with this kind of stuff? Looking at his groin, his cock was hard enough even without hormone supplements. What the hell were they playing at, trying to make him dose up with the stuff? He dropped the bottles into the box and grumbled, his tail swatting against the floor.
Residual effects...so...so could it really be real? Could...
Shawn looked at his right paw, his arm, the grey fur, and clasped his forearm with his left paw, as hard as he could. It was the same thin arm as before, slight and not unusual in any way from how he remembered it to be. No signs of bulging muscles with veins crisscrossing the surface, just plain fur and slightly loose skin and -
He couldn't even imagine how it could have been that big, with his arm so thick that he could never put his fingers around it, hulking muscle, with skin stretched taut over the bulging, obscenely large arm -
He gasped, and huffed. Surely it was a hallucination...some sort of a strange reaction to his medication, or something - though the presence of the box on his lap made it difficult to continue thinking about that. The box was tangible evidence, it contained drug bottles he had not seen before, which he had no previous knowledge of, and he had serious trouble remembering anything that had taken place since having lunch the day before, and what was there was disjointed, obscene, and full of musk, cum, and muscles that weren't supposed to be there. It was impossible to imagine such a thing, looking at the slim limb that was his arm. He didn't look like Arnold Schwarzenegger, he looked like himself, he thought, even if he han't been to a mirror yet.
That felt like a great idea, all sudden. The naked wolf forced himself up, the box falling off his lap with a clatter as he got up and hurried into the bathroom, his cock bouncing in the air ahead of him while he made the quick trip. He switched the lights on and rushed over to the sink, leaning onto it as he regarded himself in the mirror.
The young college wolf looked back to him, with tired eyes, barely raised ears and a bothered expression, all rolled into one to make his face appear..peculiar. There was nothing else there, however, no muscles, no...nothing that made him feel anything except very sore all over, from his ears to his tail that swished behind him agitatedly.
"Is this real..." he mumbled to himself. "Is this rea..."
Shawn couldn't decide whether it was a better choice to accept that he'd gone psychotic and generated a very elaborate delusional fantasy in his mind, or that he indeed had become an unwilling test subject to some bizarre super soldier serum experiments, and that his own boss at the university, the meek dog, was behind this scheme to -
His paws clenched around the porcelain of the rim of the sink. He grunted hotly, a puff of air clouding up the mirror. His stomach ached, and he was shaking.
"This isn't real," he told himself.
Or at least he didn't want it to be real.
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Thank you for reading! I hope you had an interesting time, and I look forward to your comments!
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