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Changing Times

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The Deepking - The Reef

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Prologue

Even when I was young, I had this overwhelming urge to become an explorer. There was this overarching lust for knowledge that had to be constantly sated. Whether it was through academia or the exploration of the unknown, this desire defined Roy Buckmeir for the majority of his life. For decades, he had spent so much time and effort exploring, adventuring and yes, occasionally foiling the odd end-of-the-world scenario or two. God only knows how many Mayan Calendars or Doomsday Prophecies I’ve undone.

None of that, however, could ever compare to my last and most gratifying adventure; that of my servitude to the Deepking.

Our journey together was so exhilarating, so raw… so primal. These past few weeks had been nothing sort of epic in terms of how much sex we were having. The Deepking had opened my mind to new possibilities, a new realm for me to explore. I had learned that I did not need to move far away from home to discover something new. Exploring the new serpentine body of Wesley our former pilot, the massive frame of Brock or even the intimacy of my own son was something I never thought I’d even venture into but just thinking about them made my cock stiffed and leak. Then, of course, there was the glorious frame of my lord, the Deepking. Our nights spent together, fucking in the moonlight while half-submerged in the ocean, dipping in between the reefs that had once moored him like were we mocking the insolent corals for ever damaging his glorious frame was nothing short of poetic.

Then, of course, there was Wesley’s ascension and subsequent transformation.

My own change had been an experience that was beyond anything I had ever felt before. It was beyond description, an ineffable transcendence that even the change of one’s body from childhood to adulthood through puberty will never compare. For long long I had devoted my life to exploring the wonders of this world but never before had I ever found myself thirsting for pleasures of the flesh than I have now. These changes that had had occurred to not only me but the others within the Deepking’s pod had stirred that excitement of a fresh discovery or a new lead that I had not felt in such a long time. This was new, uncharted territory!

It was with great shame that jealousy had gripped me when the Deepking had chosen Wesley to be the first of his squires to be changed but I knew that my day would come eventually. For now, I had spent my days not only helping the others rebuild the Deepking’s great metal form but exploring everything that they were all capable off.

Everything.

Once again and not for the first time this day, I found myself growing aroused at the prospect of thoroughly examining the bodies of Wesley and his brood. My long, tapering, red cock rose from the furry sheath that nestled against my groin. The long member began oozing oily precum as the sheath that was covered in thick, white hairs peeled back towards my balls.

The warm hand of the Deepking wrapped round my member, making me gasp. His lips hovered over my ears, his tongue gently caressing my cheek.

“I apologise for making you wait, my precious one,” he rumbled. “But I had to gather my strength for your ascension.”

A shiver ran down my spine and I quivered in anticipation. “I understand, m’lord. I will be patient.”

“You need not wait much longer.” He gently grabbed my shoulders, turning me towards him. Our lips met, his tongue pushing into me. I remember Wesley describing his own ascension to me; like the entire contents of the ocean being flooded into his body and now, I realised, that was no exaggeration. His power was like being in the throng of a hurricane while being pinned to the floor and your jaw forced wide open. There was nothing I could do as the raging waters funnelled down my throat and filled me. For the briefest of instances, I could feel everyone around me. Every member of the pod, every drop of our cum that had seeped into the ocean and even the vastness of the Ocean King’s hull! They were all bombarding me with information. Not too far away, Wesley was fucking and being fucked by two of his brood. Brock and Bradley were intertwined within each other’s arms, cocks pressed against one another while their lips meshed together over and over in a furious dance of passion. Multiple orcas were bringing a small ship of fishermen to heel, the new members of the pod orgasming as they were welcomed into the Deepking’s fold.

Then, all too soon, the kiss was broken and I was me again.

I was left gasping but at the same time, feeling strangely empty. My mind had expanded briefly to encompass all of this knowledge but now it was taken away.

“You thirst for knowledge,” cooed the Deepking, gently cupping my chin in his hand. “But to truly master this world, you must first master yourself. True enlightenment comes from within.”

His hand glided down my neck, sliding over my shoulder, over my arms and finally towards my hands. His fingers intertwined with mine and I shuddered at the intimate contact. Slowly, he pulled my hand towards his two, massive engorged dicks. He guided a single finger towards the tip of his slit. His oily precum squirted out, splashing my finger, coating it in warmth. My tongue instinctively licked my lips but the Deepking had other plans. With the faintest of touches, he made me push my finger into his cock. The tip slid in effortlessly, lubricated by his precum. Just that simple touch alone was euphoria. His entire cock seemed to close around that half-inch that sank into it, holding on tightly and drawing me in. Without any force on his part, my finger slipped further in. There was a short burst of precum that pushed my appendage out about half an inch but then it was drawn back into the throbbing organ.

The heavy throbbing pounding from his cock reverberated through the rest of my body. The racing of my heart calmed to match the pace of that gentle pulsating. Though my excitement remained, the aura of calm that exuded from the Deepking was like a still, calm lake, constantly inviting me in. There was nothing I could do to resist - not that I wanted to - and I pushed my finger deeper into him until it was buried in there up to my knuckle. The warm embrace of his manhood around my finger was so inviting, so sensual. The cells in my body demanded that I insert more of myself into him.

“Go on, my loyal knight,” he encouraged with the most pleased look on his features. “Enter me.”

“Y - Y - Yes, m’lord,” I stammered. “Th - thank you.”

As the waves from his cock pushed my finger out once more, I dared to press my middle finger against my index and together, push them both into his waiting cock. There was some resistance but no pain that washed out of him. In fact, the arousal that emanated from him passed over me like a gentle breeze. More of his oily precum poured onto my hand, the heady aroma making me moan. My own cock was already painfully erect and oozing my own juices onto the steel deck. Without any prompting, I pulled my fingers out of him and inserted my three middle fingers into the throbbing organ.

I bit my lower lip. The throbbing of his cock was like a resounding gong, the vibrations shooting up my fingers, through my arms and then reverberating through the rest of my body, making me quiver and shake as wave after wave of raw, primal power coursed through my veins. Ever cell in my body was shaken to its very nucleus. His power, his influence, reached all the way through my very soul, to the very core of my being; calling to me to me like a siren song. Each beat was the powerful bass setting the pace of the song and our moans were the chorus that filled in the gaps.

My pinky slid into the slit a moment later and I managed one thrust before my thumb was sliding in right alongside it. There was a moment when the lips of that massive member slowed its consumption of my hand as it wrapped over my knuckles. It squirted more precum out, splashing against the back of my hand to lubricate the rest of the appendage. Then, it was hungrily slurping my hand in, closing around my wrist. There was no longer any need to mimic the thrusts of lovemaking. I knew what was coming.

His cock slid up my forearm, a snake slowly consuming its prey. Paralysed with arousal, I submitted to his whims as his warm precum oozed over my elbows and began splashing up my biceps. I was drawn closer to his manhood and with it, the waves of his arousal struck me with greater concentration. The vibrations of his cock shook me to my core. I ceased to be me and just became another extension of his dick. The dopey grin on my features was a reflection of just how good it felt to be inside him. The walls of his cock closed around my upper arm. He had me closed in his warm, gooey, fleshy embrace. This was a level of intimacy that no one - not even Wesley - had ever experienced.

I was the first and that sparked the explorer within me again.

My enthusiasm manifested in me gently driving my other hand into the opening, widening the gap for the moment when I knew I would enter him. As I did so, a fresh splash of precum erupted from the widened hole, splattering across my features. I tasted him again. Many times had I been exposed to his juices but this time, this experience took an entire different meaning. For the first time ever, I was not just accepting his godly seed. I was becoming one with it.

His desires overwhelmed me and my other arm was already sliding into the hole, widening it and letting a whole ocean of cum start pouring down between us while lubricating me at the same time. That member had certainly grown to consume me before I knew what was happening, its glands had wrapped around my head, stretching over my shoulders and sending wave after wave of increasingly thickening precum straight into my face, down my eager gullet. The walls of his hot cock closed around me, wrapping me in its embrace and pulling me deeper and deeper into him.

The thick, hot, fleshy cocoon was the medium of my transformation but I was not fully submerged quite yet. Its walls undulated, pulsating and squeezing down around me, drawing more and more of my body into it. It closed around my armpits, inching further and further down my torso until it had closed around my pectorals. I felt the Deepking’s hands grab his monstrous cock, his warm hands pressing up just where my shoulders were. As tempting as it was to reach out, I was completely immobilised and each pulse from his dick sent me quaking into senselessness. With his incredible might, the Deepking lifted his dick off the ground, lifting me into the air and using the force of gravity to his advantage.

A gasp let my throat as I was suddenly yanked a down into his member to the point where my dick was just pressing up against the opening of his. My fingers wriggled into some opening; his balls. A constant stream of precum was pouring past me, gushing out of his cock and coating mine. There was no greater sensual contact in my experience than when two men touch dicks. Even the various encounters with different women had never been as intimate as when I had been with another man. Perhaps it was because the man I preferred to be with was Brock and we had history but this moment, when my cock touched with the Deepking’s and slowly plunged into the hungry manhood was on another level.

The vibrations of his pulsating heart and throbbing cock shook my entire body and finally could ride directly into my own member. I truly became an extension of his cock. The walls of his member closed around me; warm and slick. Wrapped in all directions by his very essence, his precum soaking into my flesh and coursing through me, gravity began to pull me deeper and deeper into him. My cock surged down into his slit, my hips disappearing beneath his glands. My tail thrashed from side to side, not only showing my eagerness but offering that little bit of wiggle to help me slide deeper and deeper into him. The cavern of his balls welcomed me, my arms sliding through and offering me the leverage I needed to physically pull myself into his testicles.

Somehow, I just knew how this all looked from the outside. It was just this deep connection with him, like I was seeing through his eyes and mine at the same time. The Deepking, my gracious lord, was standing on his massive, thick legs and sporting his gargantuan cocks, both hands wrapped around his left one where my silhouette distended the walls of his member. His balls were now half his size overall and pressed against the cold, solid floor. My legs were just hanging out from the tip of his glands, toes curled in pleasure while inch after inch of my tail continued to vanish into him, rivers of oily precum dripping down the length of that massive seven-foot cock and pooling around him.

“Master yourself, Roy,” the Deepking rumbled. “Remember this lesson.”

Those words yanked me back to my own pleasure. With a grunt, I pressed my palms against the walls of his balls and pulled myself further into the ocean of cum that was waiting for me. It was dark and the air was thick with the scent of his seed. Every breath taken was more of him that I inhaled but I fought to keep his message to heart. My focus became against my own cock which was sliding down along the interior length of his shaft. Bolts of pleasure rocketed up and down my body as I used my strength to pull myself deeper into his balls only for the tide of precum to push me back out. The motion mimicked the sensations of thrusting into a lubricated ass, sending my senses spiralling.

A weaker man would have succumbed to the sensations and submitted to the overwhelming tide, becoming nothing more a vessel for his pleasure but the Deepking had faith in me and I would not disappoint him. With a cry, I pulled myself deeper into his testicles, my head emerging from the tight grip of his cock and into the churning mass of his balls. Hot cum splashed against my face, my tongue tingling with the saltiness. My own member ached for release but I resisted and pushed myself deeper inside until my upper torso was bathed in his seed. My thighs were half-submerged in his cock. One last push and his glands closed around my knees. I gasped as the path was made easier for me to slide down his shaft.

Gently so as not to injure him, I slipped into his testicles, splashing into the pool of cum like I was entering a roughly spherical pool. His cum closed around me, cocooning me and just barely giving me enough room for my blowhole to emerge into the air to allow for breathing. Any normal human would have drowned but not us orcas of the Deepking’s pod.

I sensed my lord’s satisfaction with my progress and he begged me for a little more patience. He was moving. I was not sure where but my cock was demanding attention and I could not hold off much longer. In the tight confines of his balls, I grabbed my own member and stroked it. Not a few laps later and I was shooting my load to join with his, my body convulsing in pleasure. The vibrations of his member continued, reverberating through me, penetrating deep through my flesh, my organs and into my very soul. He had yet to orgasm and was replicated through to me. My hand never left my cock and within minutes, I was again cumming.

It did not satisfy him.

So I kept stroking.

And cumming.

Stroking.

Cumming.

Stroking and cumming over and over again.

My form became a vessel for his pleasure even as I maintained a sense of self. All my energy and physical form became dedicated to his pleasure. I continued to cum over and cover again, my seed melding with his and gaining strength from it. The great muscles he had given me began to melt, my veins hungrily consuming its mass to convert it into cum that would be ejected into his seed mere moments later. The feeling over my toes and tail began to fade. Strength left my fingers and I feared I could no longer continue to provide the release that the Deepking so sorely needed.

Then he provided the solution. The rumbling throughout his body coursed through me, rocketing through my bones, filling my veins and shaking my form. It was enough to cause my cock to spasm and for me to further melt into his seed. I gasped, sucking in more of his cum and let myself float in this womb of everlasting bliss. He rumbled and I cummed. He shook and I cummed. Over and over until I could feel nothing but my throbbing cock.

At long last, I felt him reach for his dick and just like that, we were one. Connected as one, I sensed him stroke his left member, the one I had not entered through. His sensations overwrote mine; they were greater after all. His hands stroking his dick became a mirror for my own and the rising pressure in his balls was faintly familiar even though I wasn’t sure I even had a solid member anymore. All I knew was that I had to continue to provide him with that release.

I all too eagerly rushed up his cock, pushing myself through the tubes of his member with as much force and power as I could muster.

He cried out as thunder boomed somewhere.

I came bursting out of his dick, greeting the cool, salty air once more. I flew in an arch, nothing more than a geyser of black, oily cum that streaked through the air and…

… splattered onto some alien metal surface.

I was a seven foot orca that had been turned into my master’s seed so it took a good three minutes before all of me came bursting out of his cock and pooling on the large, red, steel platform. Ocean waters lapped up around us, the roiling seas crashing against my liquid form and threatening to drag me into the depths. From the lesson I had learned from the Deepking, I maintained my frame. In fact, as more and more of my body came pooling into me, I started to bring myself together once more into a solid, familiar frame. I reached out for him, my fingers rising from the ocean of cum and pulling more of the substance around them to form their shape. My palms slowly formed, then my forearm and finally my upper arms. I gently seized his cock, using it as leverage to pull myself out further and further out of the cum like I was just emerging from the deep end of a swimming pool.

My head slowly reformed and I opened my eyes. My arm, fully solid, came into view and I grinned brightly as I once again took physical shape. He continued to cum, his essence spreading over my body and feeding me. The thick white hairs that crested my chest reformed and in many ways, I remained much the same when I had first transformed. But within me, I felt a greater power as my left arm remained snugly liquid. Using my new form, I managed to lift myself up towards his cock, my lower half still remaining mostly liquid but completely under my control. My lips wrapped around his cock. I drank his seed directly, allowing it to course through me and fill me with strength. His essence dissolved into my form and with a sigh, I pulled away from that member, letting the last splashes to fall upon my features only for them to sink into my flesh.

“All aboard the Deepking,” I uttered.

The Reef

The oil platform was called Crimson Horizon and was one of those fixed platform oil rigs. The lighthouse of Callistorph Bay was visible on the horizon as a faint, blinking star. The red steel that I had emerged onto was, in fact, the ‘dock’ of the Crimson which sat by the water with a ladder and a single mechanical platform that would take any new arrival from the sea up to the busy platform. Given that it was the middle of the night, however, there wasn’t much activity. A skeleton crew was maintaining equipment while everyone else was asleep. Beacon lights perched on the tall radio tower shone red and green while spotlights remained on to illuminate the nearby sea and parts of the platform to ensure that if someone had an accident, someone would be able to see it.

But no one was paying attention to the dock.

“This is your mission, my good knight,” whispered the Deepking, his powerful arms wrapped around my chest. I lay against his enormous pectorals, my fin sinking between his chest muscles as he turned my gaze up towards the platform. “These monoliths contain enough resources not only to repair myself but start the creation of another ship.”

For a moment, I tilted my head back to gaze into his bright blue eyes. It struck me as odd that he would want any other ship to rival his own. With the faintest touch, the lightest caress, it struck me what he drove this desire. Loneliness had driven him tot his point and now, he had no intention of ever being alone again. We were mere mortals in his presence and though we were devoted to him, there was still an inherent danger that lingered should we be exposed. The escalation of our attack against Baypark Petroleum would no doubt summon the ire of mankind and we were still woefully outgunned. Even though we would be a single ship in the Ocean King, humanity had satellites, planes, faster ships and nuclear weapons. One ship regardless of the power of its crew would not be enough to outrun let alone outgun them all.

We needed a fleet.

“I understand, sire.”

“Good,” he rumbled, running his fingers through the thick, white crest of hair on my chest. “This is a mission of stealth and subterfuge. You must be slow, methodical. Like the gentle tide. Any sign of alarm will alert them of your presence or at least cause them to alert the coastguard. We are not quite ready yet to leave.”

With a single nod of understanding, he released me from his grip and effortlessly dove back into the ocean waves. The thunderstorm above us continued to roil and it began to rain, hard. Good. That would provide substantial cover. Chest brimming with confidence, I turned towards the nearby lift and ladder. With the newfound control over my own body, my frame melted into a puddle of thick, black, oily goo.

As an explorer and adventurer, I was always eager to discover new things so this existence as a pool of viscous liquid was positively exhilarating. Every surface of my form was as sensitive as my cock and every molecule was as mobile as my fingers while having none of the restrictions of bone or sinew. As always, there was that nagging sensation of retreating back into familiar grounds; that spark of doubt that wondered if this adventure would be my last but also as always, I powered through it and ventured into the unknown. Ten tendrils of goo rose from my main body, sliding towards the nearby ladder and grasping it cautiously. The problem with this form was that there was very little strength with the frame but at the same time, there was few restrictions as well.

One half of my effort was dedicated to keeping every drop of myself together on a molecular level while the other was used to pull my gooey mass up the the ladder one rung at a time. It was less about the traditional motion of climbing and more like reaching out to a rung with a tendril and then using that as an anchor to pull the rest of my mass towards it. In the back of my mind, it imagined how a caterpillar moved and that visualisation helped my move up the ladder one rung at a time.

There had to be over two hundred rungs but one increased my knowledge and experience over my body exponentially; almost like I was a piece of taffy that was being constantly stretched and expanded, making me looser and more pliable. About twenty rungs up, I was able to expand the number of tendrils to twelve. Another ten up and then there were sixteen. By the time I had reached halfway up the ladder, I had abandoned the caterpillar approach and began using the sides of the ladder as a sort of guide for my mass, slithering up the red metal like a snake. It was slow going at first and the harsh winds and constant rain made the surface slippery by that only increased the challenge. Every rung overcome made the next one that much easier and by the time I began to approach the deck of the oil rig, I was moving with lightning fast speed and precision.

I stopped, however.

No doubt there would be cameras watching the ladder’s top. If an anthropomorphic orca or even a sizable mass of black goo started pouring onto the deck, someone would surely notice. No, a different approach was required.

Drop by drop, I grabbed the side of the deck. Perhaps it was surface tension or just my own sticky mass but I somehow managed to remain stuck onto the red metal and began crawling along the side, away from the ladder. I crawled some distance away until I sensed the heat and presence of a human, making me stop.

The man, a portly bearded fellow wearing a clear, plastic raincoat and gazing listlessly off into the distance with a mug of coffee in his hand, hadn’t noticed me. He was no doubt on the evening shift and was so bored that he didn’t even notice how little droplets of water were dripping down from the canopy above him and into his drink.

That was my opening and another avenue to explore.

A whole mass of goo would be easily noticed but a single drop would likely go unnoticed. I pushed a single drop from my collective mass, letting it slide across the deck and towards a nearby pillar. It was significantly slower but my senses were much sharper through it. Where my entire mass was like gallons of liquefied sensory organs, this one drop was focused, astute and able to take in everything around it with sharper clarity. Half of my consciousness still had to be dedicated to maintaining the integrity of my greater mass and to cling to the side of the platform but the rest could be fully focused onto that one, tiny, minuscule drop that slipped up the nearby pole and then began drifting above this unsuspecting man.

He never even noticed when that small, oily drop fell into his coffee. The brew was cold and through my drop, I could taste the bitterness of cheap grounds dulled by a copious amount of sugar. As the Deepking had cautioned, patience was necessary. A whole ten minutes passed before the man tilted the mug of coffee towards his lips and took a sip, grimacing at the cold brew and the bitter taste. That one drop slipped into him and from there, I immediately entered his bloodstream.

That tiny speck was not enough to fully influence his body but it was enough for me to at least glean more about my prey.

His name was Harry Tillies. He came from a family of oil rig workers. His father worked on an oil rig and his grandfather worked on one as well. It paid well and was hard work but came with its downsides. Workers often lived for months away from their families and Harry was fairly sure his wife was cheating on him with their neighbour. The heavy sigh that escaped his lips came not only from the cold splash of rain against his face despite the raincoat but also from the weight of his eventual divorce. Bile and rage bubbled up in his gut as he pondered how he could prove his wife’s infidelity but at the same time he wondered if he was being too harsh given he was rarely there for her and when he was, he was often distant, tired and eager to make the most out of his break.

Typical problems for a middle-class American. That would all change soon.

Now that I was in his system, the heavyset man felt a compulsion to turn away from the railings. As he did so, I slipped the rest of my main mass behind him, clinging to his shadow to avoid detection. The simplest suggestion to ‘get out of the rain’ was all it took for Harry to wander down into the bowels of the oil rig while muttering to himself about checking the storage room. One would thing that something as big as Crimson Horizon would be manned and working all the time but this oil rig was fairly old. It had been pumping oil and providing Baypark Petroleum a steady source of income for over a decade but it was starting to show its age. The walkways creaked and felt of rust; not a good thing on a floating platform out in the middle of the sea. The storm caused the entire rig to shudder and shake, visibly tilting back and forth ever so slightly. For those used to it like Harry, it was just another part of life but for me, especially one pressed against the ground, it was disconcerting.

Harry flipped back the hood of his raincoat, revealing scraggly red-brown hair with a defined widow’s peak. After absently scratching his thick beard - there was no need to really clean himself up out here - he padded down a short flight of stairs to the bowels of the rig. During the day, the walkways would be filled with people and there would be noise everywhere. This evening, the rig was silent, groaning softly against the storm.

In many ways, it was much like the Ocean King. The storage room Harry entered was even filled to the brim with barrels of oil ready for transport. The vast, cavernous room had a high ceiling allowed my victim’s heavy, wet footsteps to echo between the ominous stacks of blue and black barrels emblazoned with the Baypark Petroleum logo. It was dark and best I could tell, there was no one monitoring the actual interior of the storage room. Why would they? Oil was precious, yes, but it wasn’t like anyone could actually just walk out with all the barrels.

The door itself was monitored but with no other exits out of one of the many barrel rooms, there was no need to watch the actual interior. Even if someone decided to attempt some bizarre caper to drill under the room and retrieve the barrels using some mechanism hiding under the platform, they would not only need something to get between the three hundred or so feet between the ocean’s surface and the underside of the rig but they’d have to drill through several other floors without getting noticed.

For all intents and purposes, it was one of the most isolated places on the entire platform.

Harry felt safe, alone and at the same time, puzzled as to why he had decided to come here in the first place.

Perfect.

Poor Harry regarded the blank wall in front of him listlessly, perhaps wondering how his life had come to such a point and mulling over his marital troubles. A life devoid of meaning and direction. On some level, I could sympathise. Years of adventure and thrill were ultimately meaningless and all they provided was a fleeting sense of satisfaction and an endless craving for the next discovery. It was only with the Deepking that I found true meaning.

It was a blessing I would share with Harry as I slowly reconstituted myself behind him. There was enough light in the room for my rising shadow to fall upon Harry but the poor, deflated man was so depressed that he didn’t notice until it was too late. His brow furrowed as he regarded the ominous black shadow that had draped over his silhouette. Only then did he turn and gaze upon my features.

“What the -!?”

There would be none of that.

Before he could shout out further alarm, I hurled myself at him, a black tide that swept him easily off his feet and sent him crashing to the ground. My liquid form draped around him, covering his face and flooding down into his throat to prevent all further noise. He gurgled and choked so I allowed a little bit of air to pass through but still held him silent. My dark form curled around the back of his head, sliding over his scruffy, red-brown hair and closing around the base of his neck like a mask. Desperation caused his heart to pump faster and his fingers to claw at his throat. That only served to allow more of my gooey form to slide down his hands, to coat his forearms and connect with the mass that had already wrapped around his torso.

Blinded and shrouded in darkness, Harry could only flip onto his hands and knees, desperately trying to reach for something - anything - that he could use to pry myself off him but it was a losing battle. I quickly wrapped around the rest of his torso, closing in around his back and then crawling down his legs. He reached out for some invisible god before collapsing onto his side, curling up into the foetal position. The last of my form wrapped around his toes… only to realise that, in my haste, I had engulfed everything about him… his clothes included.

Now I was at a quandary.

As arousing as it was to have him burst out of his clothing, I was an environmentalist at heart. Such materials should not go to waste. How, then, could I turn such materials for use of the Deepking?

Harry’s constant shifting actually provided the solution. The raincoat he wore was quite irritating with its waterproof surface and it constantly threatened to force me to slide away. The more Harry moved, the more I had to devote some of my efforts and energy to keeping my grip on him. That made me wonder what would make something waterproof and sent me on a tangent on how certain molecules could be considered hydrophobic.

That reminded me that I had full control over every molecule of my form.

Curious, I started with the raincoat and began examining it with my frame. On the outside, it would have looked like the black, oily surface that had surrounded Harry was now rippling on its own. I saw the coating that had been applied to the plastic surface that made it waterproof. I delved deeper and peered into the molecules that resisted water damage. Even deeper and I saw the individual atoms. Focusing on a single atom, I began to gently peel pull them apart from one another. Each little action sent a burst of energy through me as the electrons were set free; a tiny spark of lightning that made the effort all the worth while.

As had been the case when I climbed the ladder, it was first slow going as I ate away at the fabric of his raincoat but as I grew more and more accustomed to the motion, the process became exponentially faster. Within a minute, I had ‘eaten’ a hole through his clear, plastic raincoat… and met something else. It was the woollen jacket he wore. Well… not entirely wool. From the taste of it… it was a wool polyester blend. Yes. 80% wool, 20% polyester. Easily enough to deconstruct. As I continued to eat away at the coat, I went for his jacket. This time, it was easier to pierce through. I was disappointed, however, when past the jacket I was met with his shirt and I began working on that as well.

At long last, I could feel his body heat and as I pierced past his shirt, I was met with one last obstacle - full-body thermal underwear. Practical but infinitely vexing for me. If I could roll my eyes, I would have but I diligently worked through it. As my liege and lord had advised, I must be patient.

The devouring of the material was not without its benefits though. As I consumed more and more of it, that energy spilled into my body, multiplying my molecules and granting me more and more strength to rid him of the rest of his clothing. The fluorescent jacket he wore was easily devoured. The watch he had wrapped around his wrist was gone in thirty seconds as was his belt. The heavy, worker’s boots were a little harder but didn’t take more than a minute to fully devour and leave his toes fully exposed to me. Harry squirmed, his body now completely exposed to me. From the outside, he was a naked, black, featureless silhouette of a human curled up on the floor.

Now the fun began.

I seeped through his pores, filling him on a molecular level and syphoning some of the excess energy that I had obtained straight into him. The effect was instantaneous. Harry was suddenly filled with energy and every nerve in his body was firing off in pleasurable bliss. All this energy that was stored had to go somewhere and now that part of myself was embedded into him, I began pumping that power straight into his body. Every muscle, bone, organ and sinew immediately went rigid and tense. His neck strained, veins popping up and down its length, his fingers and toes splayed out to their limit and his cock instantly became erect.

The vigour pumping straight into him was hungrily absorbed by his cells. Each droplet contained a little bit of myself and with it, that, I obtained a modicum of control over his shape and form. Years of overeating had stuffed a lot of fat into his body. His cells began hungrily metabolising all the power I was pumping into him and immediately started converting it into more fat. That had to change.

Starting with the rather pronounced gut, his innards gurgled loudly, the sound causing my flesh around him to ripple. The fat seeped into the tensed muscles there, feeding each cell until they were fit to burst and had no choice but to divide and multiply. The constant vibrations shook his entire body from head to toe. Mixed with the constant stimulation, it was like the quakes of orgasm only it was constant and seemingly never ending. His mind was being whittled away by the constant barrage and while part of him was still in disbelief that this was happening to him and wanted to understand exactly what was happening, he was increasingly leaning into the infinite pleasure.

The drooping gut of his tightened, that muffin top shrinking away and feeding the muscles. The singular oblong gut was divided into six thick plates of muscle, his bellybutton disappearing within their folds. Even through my skin, those abdominals were still very much visible. But the energy I fed and the mass he had already with that gut was still too much. He already had a rather refined muscle gut but there was still more fat and more power to pump into him. His belly was no longer an option so it was time to turn elsewhere.

The same problem occurred, however. Everywhere on his body I looked, there was this layer of fat that had to go and all the energy that was coiling up inside of me was quickly being sapped away by his cells. Thinking fast had always been a gift as an adventurer so I immediately began diverting all of that mass straight towards his ass; specifically just above his rear. The flabby rear vibrated and bubbled back into a taut bubble butt while a lump began to form just above it. Bones built from his tailbone, the sensation of a rising erection rocketing his his spine as those bones began to stretch his skin from within. Muscles and nerves wound outward from that bone, me tendrils sinking through them and feeding them constantly with all the energy that I had accumulated from consuming his clothing. A pressure built around this new appendage, a single bone of his tail already wriggling with new life and pleasure. His moan was muffled by mask-like surface of my body over his face. That pressure continued to build as the nub broadened, widening and thickening with all the mass that was accumulated from the copious amounts of fat all over his body. Even without my interference, he was already wiggling his new budding limb. The limits of this limb were quickly reached as not only my energy fed into it but also his converted fat. The pressure became unbearable, pushing at the tip of his new tail until it came bursting out as another bone tacking on top of the first.

Harry quaked, the orgasmic pleasure of growth crashing against his mind like a typhoon.

There was no stopping now.

Fat and energy pooled into the new tail and I could almost hear him whimpering in submission as he felt flesh and muscle build around the new limb, a momentary release until the limits of that limb was once again reached and the pressure began to build once more.

He threw his head back, letting out a muffled scream as a third bone emerged and again, the cycle began anew.

With each iteration, the growth became faster and faster, his tail rapidly expanding out into a broad, thick appendage with a nice, big, wide fluke. Over and over he was assaulted by these pleasurable sensations and somehow, he still managed to maintain his dogged grip on his old life. Even when the big, thick tail slapped against the surface of the storage room, sending new sensations up his spine, he was still Harry Tilles.

That didn’t matter. There was still so much energy and so much fat to be converted that this immense desire to release it was threating to consume me. I was not just going to throw it away. No. This all had to be used on Harry in service of the Deepking; for the betterment of the world.

My focus was turned towards his rump. Already big and juicy, made taut by my transformation, it was dwarfed by his enormous tail. Now it was time to return some of the fat I had taken from it and craft it into something a little more delectable. It almost felt like I was sculpting clay as power and mass oozed into his ass, inflating it while keeping those dimples and curves. Harry seemed to enjoy it as well. He was panting like a mutt in heat as he was overcome by that same sensation of building anticipation. There was no need to give it an explosive finale and so soon as it had more than tripled in size, I moved away from his ass towards his thighs.

A faint signal emanated from Harry’s mind, the slightest whisper that slivered its way through he confusion, fear and arousal. A single word that belied his true desires.

“More.”

With that encouragement, I began funneling my reserves into his thighs. Again, I was amazed by the amount of fat that had accumulated over the years. While not technically obese, even after I had made his tail and inflated his ass, his thighs rubbed together and not in the sexy way. That changed the cells vibrated, multiplied and grew rapidly. Hard muscles consumed the layers of fat, becoming strong, taut and packed with so much muscles that they could crush watermelons between them. They still pressed together but the hard quads were now their defining feature not the rug burn he’d get from merely walking. When I reached further past his muscles into his bones and began the process of stretching it out, I could feel the unbelievable sensation of growing erect all over again emanating from Harry. Both his thighs, already thick and meaty, grew longer, stretching out from underneath him and forcing him to tumble onto his back, spasming in pleasure.

“More.”

And more he shall have.

My attention turned past his knees towards his calves. The saggy, sad droplets began hard florets of muscle that were wide enough to be mistaken for hams. Even as they stretched out, the sensation of building pressure pushing his shins to new lengths, they maintained that attractive width that matched perfectly with his thighs. His toes curled in pleasure, tightening to their limit as the rising demand for release rushed towards his soles, preparing them to carry his enormous weight before shooting up the arch of his foot and towards the balls. Only then did his toes flare out in pleasure, bones crackling in joy as the orgasmic climax rattled his entire body. His hips thrust into the air, putting those new thighs to good use.

But he did not come.

“More!”

That primal voice was breaking through his restraint and the animal within was finally coming out. There were a few finishing touches to be made for his legs, however. I pulled my mass away from his toes, revealing the black digits without those toenails. The base of his feet were stark white while the rest of his flesh was a sleek, dark grey. The rest of his legs were similarly coloured in the deep, metallic grey as was his tail.

Now that I had less surface area to cover, I could not focus on his upper body.

That’s when I realised that I had sucked more mass from him leaving him with that muscle gut all the extra reserves having been drained from the rest of his body. The energy I had obtained from his clothes was similarly exhausted. It was a good thing, then, that I was in a storage room filled with metal barrels and oil.

If I could grin, I would have.

With the mass that was retrieved from his legs, I lashed out with a tendril, grasping a nearby crate. It was different from the plastic and cloth of Harry’s clothing. The structure of the metal was much more tightly bound and compact. Ultimately, it all came down to atoms. Piece by piece, molecule by molecule, the metal structure eroded, fresh energy and raw mass funnelling back down my liquid arm to feed into Harry. He let out a soft groan, his body shaking all over in anticipation, my oily body rippling from the tremors.

The energy went towards his torso, widening his waist to fit his bulky thighs. Whether out of aesthetic or some will of his own, that muscle gut remained and hungrily absorbed more of the mass that had been given to him to maintain it even as his torso grew longer and wider. His lats spread, pulling at my form and forcing me to begrudgingly allow his dorsal fin to pierce through my liquid body. Like a key opening a door, that fin triggered my retreat from Harry’s back, revealing the metallic grey skin barely containing bulging muscles. His spreading shoulders widened the divide between my forms, forcing me to retreat down towards his chest. His pectoral muscles likewise ballooned out, not as firm or solid as mine when I was fully formed but still enormous and chunky. They pushed far enough away from his collarbone that his nipples pointed out past his belly but just by a little. The vancony between the two slabs was deep enough that light could not escape their folds. The light grey of his chest only served to accent the curves of his abdominals and pectorals.

“More! More!” he mentally cried.

With more of my mass freed from his body, I was able to lash out and strike different crates, eating away at their forms until I found myself gnawing at the oil barrels. The barrels themselves were simple. It was the mineral-rich oil that was a veritable buffet of power and matter.

Harry threw his head back, mouth wide open as I fed him all that I could consume. He flexed his arms, biceps ballooning out to be five times the size of what his had been and far beyond anything a human could ever dream of. His triceps added to the mass. My black form oozed down towards his forearms, feeding the muscle and bone there until each one was as thick as hams and twisting with cords of veins. His hands curled into fists, tightening his arm muscles before he unfurled them. Fingers shot out, growing into big, thick sausages connected to a broad palm that could crush a man’s skull with ease.

“GIVE ME MORE!”

Knowing full well that his transformation was almost complete, Harry, now in control of most of his body, leaned back on his haunches and brought his hands towards his face. My gooey substance pooled at his palms and allowed me to combined the mass there with the remaining forces collecting around his head. There, I reshaped his skull; melting away the human features into the broad, rounded features of an orca, coating it all in a dark grey sheen.

At long last, I allowed him to open his eyes, his bright, blue eyes that burned with the power of the Deepking. He grinned, opening his mouth wide and allowing me to slide deep inside of him. I withdrew all my tendrils from around us, pooling all the resources I had collected into him. I coursed through his veins, stimulating every nerve and sending his entire body into one last full-body orgasm. There was a lot of left over energy but he knew exactly what to do with them. He drew from my strength, pushing it towards his bulging muscles. Silvery ooze pushed out of his pores, wrapping around his torso, shins and forearms. This ooze quickly solidified forming a short of body armour that fully accentuated every part of his body.

Without further urging, he reached for his cock, still woefully human. That soon changed as he directed the last remnants of the resources I offered him towards his cock and balls. His testicles jostled in his sack, blooming out and pressing up against his scrotum to push out all those wrinkles that defined a human sack. The flesh turned the same light grey as parts of his body while his sack itself grew to quadruple his normal size. All that was left was his cock but as his whole body seized up, I could not hold back my excitement any longer.

I came rushing out of his cock in a splendid eruption of black, gooey cum, firing off like a geyser with enough force that I struck the ceiling high above us. The force of my escape caused his dick to surge upwards and outward, his hungry cock seemingly snaking forward as if to try and consume my fleeing essence to bring me back into him. His primal cry echoed in the chamber, shaking the storage room and echoing in the entire oil rig as a deem, sonorous whale song.

From my perch high above, I watched as the huge, muscular orca grinned back up at me.

“All aboard the Deepking!” bellowed my new comrade, Harder.

The doors to the storage room sprung open and a sole man came to investigate. Despite his size, Harder was well concealed amongst the crates.

“Hello?” asked the newcomer. “Anyone here?”

With a grin, Harder rose to his feet. Even at his full height, he was hidden but his thunderous footsteps could not be so easily concealed. The stranger froze as step after booming step drew closer to him. Harder turned the corner, emerging from behind some barrels causing the man’s eyes to go wide in shock.

“What the hell…?”

He never got more than that. Thick ropes of oily, silvery cum sprayed out of Harder’s prepared cock, splattering across the man’s chest and legs.

“What the fuck!?” cried the frightening man, falling to his rear. He tried to turn to leave but suddenly found him movements impaired by the rapidly hardening cum around him. To his horror, the seed that clung onto him took on a shiny, metallic quality, rapidly hardening and holding him in position. He scrambled for his walkie-talkie only for Harder’s second shot of cum to strike his him, pinning him to the ground, unable to move.

“No! Someone! Help - urk!”

Harder kept cumming over and over again, spraying the man until he was fully covered in his silvery seed. Within moments, all struggle ceased as the man was completely covered. Then, despite being harder than steel, his cum began to meld together, smoothening out the edges and seemingly bringing the entire mass into an upright position. The vaguely elliptical cocoon stood in the middle of the room, the man inside growing and developing into another like the grey orca before him.

“I’ll leave them to you,” I told Harder. “I’ll attack from another angle.”

“Leave them to me,” answered the towering orca, licking his lips while stroking his cock.

The tank-like Harder would form a suitable distraction as the men of Crimson Horizon began to investigate. It would take some time before his spawn could fully form but by then, I would have struck my next target - the generators. Power still coursed through the oil rig and if I disabled that, the crew would be running blind.

Following the power lines and wires was easy enough. Touching them sent jolts of electricity through me which quickly helped me recover the strength I had expended in my lengthy transformation of Harder. Wherever I passed, the lights flickered as I sucked the energy from the area. The entire oil rig would soon be plunged into utter darkness as I entered the generator room through a vent.

With it being the middle of the night, there was a sole officer standing in the control room watching all the monitors, dials and displays. The noise from Harder had turned his attention away from his duties and, coincidentally, the grate I was hidden behind. His distraction gave me time to quickly and silently ooze out of the vent and land in a puddle right behind him. I was getting much faster in reconstituting myself so by the time he turned around to see what the looming shadow over him was, I had fully formed once more.

“Holy shi -!”

I lashed out, my fingers liquefying before they reached him. They snaked through the fabric of his shirt, weaving their way past the threads and fibres even down to a molecular level and making a beeline for the two closest openings - his nipples. In retrospect, I could have gone straight for his throat but this was far more entertaining. His eyes boggled, his cry drowning in his throat as bolts of pleasure erupted from his nipples. Like tiny black spears, I swiftly pumping my tendrils right into his nipples, stimulating the sensitive flesh there and immediately engorging them.

“Ah-uh-argh!” he gasped. There was no need to take control of his nervous system as I had with Harder. This man - Quinton Kavjak - was immediately brought to his knees by the waves of stimulation radiating from his two, sensitive nubs. His chocolate skin became drenched in sweat, his dark brown eyes glazed over while his mouth hung half-open. A deep, rumbling moan rose from his throat, a sign of his total submission. Even just with a few droplets of myself inserted into his system, his irises were already starting to show specks of blue as he was touched by the grace of the Deepking.

With little to no resistance on Quinton’s part, I poured more of myself into this electrical engineer. Once again, I connected with his nerves and again, I felt that duality that I had first tasted when the Deepking had given me my new form and again when I was transforming Harder; that sensation that I was two people at once. I retained full control of myself and poured teaspoon after glorious teaspoon of myself into Quinton’s nipples but at the same time, I was Quinton as well, feeling that alien and yet gloriously pleasurable sensation of pressure building in my chest while my nipples were amazingly engorged. There was a constant, nagging need to squeeze down on Quinton’s chest, to push my own form out but the stronger this sensation, the stronger I pushed into him.

“N - N - No…” he moaned softly, reaching up with his hands and gripping his pectorals. Quinton was a skinny little guy so as I pumped more and more of myself into him, his muscles eagerly consumed the mass, pumping more of my cells into his sinew and causing his pectorals to slowly inflate and fill up his hands. The awful tan shirt of a Baypark Petroleum employee slowly began to distend with the two growing mounds right beneath it. More and more, the plump, square forms of his pecs became visible through his garments, filling his hands which automatically began growing the two, new, meaty squares attached to his chest.

All too soon I realised that I was running out of mass. Yes, I had pumped a significant amount of myself into Quinton and I was changing him but without more, I’d be reduced to little more than a droplet without proper nourishment. With the assault beginning in earnest, rest was not a luxury I could afford. Unlike the storage room, there was little in terms of disposable matter I could devour.

Unless…

With a savage grin, a black tentacle of goo rose up from my back. Quinton watched it rise like a scorpion’s tail, eyes widened despite being half-glazed in pleasure. His pupils dilated, preparing for the worst. That tentacle lashed off to the left, slamming into a nearby console. Sparks and wires snapped out, hundreds of volts charging up my liquid mass. The rush of power was intoxicating, making my fluid flesh bubble in excitement. The temptation was there to keep all this power for myself but Quinton was such a good boy that he deserved a promotion for being such a good, obedient servant. With my arms embedded deep into his pectorals, I directed the electricity straight into his body.

Quinton grit his teeth together, arching his back while his eyes remained wide and open. With my mass guiding the transformation within him, the raw energy coursed through his veins. His pectorals soaked up all that power, stimulating their growth. Every fibre and sinew jostled and shook wildly, vibrating in his hands while simultaneously ballooning out. That instinct of squeezing down on his muscles to force me out was replaced with the wild compulsion to constantly bounce his pectorals to the beat of the hundreds of volts being pumped right into him. He bounced his left pectoral and not even half a second later, he was bouncing his right. Left-right, left-right, left-left-right-right. Over and over and with each flex of the muscle, his pectorals grew bigger and bigger.

The buttons of his shirt strained, strands of fabric starting to come undone and his white undershirt visible beneath the garment. His nipples pushed up against his tan shirt. His pectorals and his pectorals alone inflated to the point where they were double the size of his hands and he was gripping them as if trying to stop the quaking.

Rrrrrrrrip!

The buttons of his shirt came undone and his undershirt tore right down the middle. The flesh beneath was revealed to be a creamy white, a tinge of yellow mixed with the smooth, white flesh. There was a momentary gasp of relief that left his lips before the jolts started over again and his pectorals continued to grow. They became so big that they were disproportionate to the rest of his body. Their inflating mass, firm as they were, made it impossible to cross his arms and as they grew, they pushed up his collarbone to the point where it almost seemed like they would swallow his head.

“P - P - Please…” Quinton moaned.

Entertaining as it was, the lights around us were starting to flicker with the disruption of power. People would come to investigate soon. Time was no on our side. Turning my attention away from his pectorals, I pushed more of myself through his nipples, making him gasp. Traversing the incredible mounds that were his pectorals took a few seconds but I managed to reach past them to his shoulders and back. Now the electricity had a new target and he lurched forward. He would have fallen on his hands and knees but his chest pushed so far out ahead of him that they touched the floor first before his hands could. That quickly changed as I pushed the power through to his arms.

The scrawny shoulders that had all been swallowed up by his pectorals plumped out like an inflating balloon right next to another. Hard, scalloped muscles grew from it, veins crippling through it like lightning bolts across his flesh. His chocolate-dark skin blackened, turning a complete black with faint tinges of gold along the edges. With the sweat covering his body, it almost looked like his skin was covered in a faint coating of gold glitter. Biceps and triceps quickly followed. With the electricity charging through it, he flexed and relaxed them rapidly over and over again until his palms could finally press against the floor. His muscles quickly grew accustomed to the charge and with a groan, he began pushing himself up off the ground. His forearms flared out, tearing through the sleeves of his shirt while his hands darkened, absorbing his fingernails while leaving his palms that same creamy white as his chest.

His new, powerful arms crackled with lightning, allowing him to finally push himself up off the ground just as his back flared out. He threw his head back, baring his chest out to me like he was offering himself up to me. The muscles on his back became strong, hard ridges that crackled with the same energy that coursed through the rest of his body. They absorbed all the electricity I was giving him and with that, the gaps between the flickers of light grew longer and longer. His traps grew rapidly, swallowing his neck and giving his all-too-human head a little cushion to sit on while the electricity coursed through his skull, into his brain and sealed his service with the Deepking.

The generators were audibly straining to keep up and in a five second-long outage, Quinton’s irises flared up with blue light. His broad, full lips split open into a toothy grin. Cells happily absorbed the power stolen from the generators to push his skull forward, absorbing his nose into the familiar beak of an orca. The skull and general shape grew, neck lengthening just a little so that he wouldn’t be swallowed whole by his own muscles or his vision obstructed. He flexed his back one more time and a sharp fin burst from his spine.

“Yes! God yes!”

I felt the familiar tug of my newest convert wishing to take the reins of his transformation and I willingly handed it over while keeping my form in place to continue siphoning power into Quinton.

The lights went out and Quinton directed the power down towards his crotch but not before being forced to pass over his abdomen. The skinny and almost twig-like frame ballooned out into a rigid wall of eight, solid slabs of muscle, flaring out to support his massive pectorals. Each abdominal muscle rippled and bounced with the sizzling energy just like his pecs adding to the constantly vibrating wall of lean muscle before me. The lights flickered on once more and the wall of muscles before me rippled in anticipation. Restraint was thrown into the depths of the sea as Quinton finally reached his goal.

Again, the lights flickered off again and his cock came charging out of his pants, a big black lance that ripped right through the front of his pants and soared just to be level with his downward-facing nipples. The remnants of his clothes didn’t last much longer as his balls quickly ballooned out to be the size of melons, forcing him to spread his legs apart. The lights came on, revealing the tremendous black, human-shaped spear coursing with veins up and down its length oozing with oily precum.

We were plunged into darkness a third time just I wrested control over his transformation and caused a surge of power into the base of his tail. Quinton was forced to abandon his attempt to reach for his monster of a cock as he lurched forward once more, pressing his forehead against the floor in frustration as I denied him an orgasm. Muscles, bone and blood vessels knitted together, absorbing a whole seven seconds worth of electricity for the entire oil rig to form a short, muscled tail that slapped the floor with frustration. The lights flipped on just as his legs burst from the remnants of his pants, his toes erupting from his boots and revealing the strong, powerful legs needed to support such a top-heavy form.

One last time, the entire oil rig went into darkness.

Quinton - no, Quark - shuddered and let out a tremendous roar. I pulled my tendril away from the electrical system and plunged entirely into him. The sudden rush was too much for him to bear and he grasped his cock with both hands. Head still pressed against the floor, he squeezed his eyes shut and fired off a tremendous load of oily-black cum that reached the door into the monitoring station. I didn’t make it for the first blast or the second but by the time the third came around, I was nestling myself into his balls and was subsequently fired up the entire length of his 14-inch member, wrapped int he warmth of that pulsating member, and sent sailing across the room in my liquid form.

That was bliss.

The lights flickered on once more just as the door swung open.

“Quin! What the fuck -”

The three men that had charged in stopped as they spied the massive orca with a faint golden tinge to his flesh rising to his feet, a big grin on his features. Quark rolled his shoulders threateningly. There must have been some residual energy left because as he did so, black, leather straps sprang up from his flesh, wrapping around his torso in a very intimidating and yet sexy harness.

“Don’t be shocked, boys?” he rumbled. “All aboard the Deepking!”

He threw both his palms forward. Lightning spewed from his fingertips and slammed into the two closest men. The third jumped back out of the room in horror as his two colleagues screamed. The yellow and blue lightning coursed through their veins, stimulating their muscles, carrying the Deepking’s message right into their brains and burning their irises blue. Both men convulsed, their muscles tearing through their clothing and their fins erupting from their backs. One man reached out for his unaffected colleague only for that hand to spasm and surge towards his friend as a big, black and white appendage crackling with electricity. Both men suddenly filled out the doorway, their enormous forms causing the metal to creak and groan. The door frame bent and twisted as both newly formed orcas bucked and came. Their last colleague turned to flee but one of them got a good shot at him and fired off a bolt of lightning from his open jaw. The man crumbled to the ground, letting out a long, protracted ‘no’ as he too came into the fold of the Deepking.

Somewhere above us, Harder’s newest convert erupted from his cocoon, another silvery orca. The two bulky, steel-covered orcas kissed before proceeding to charge out of the storage room they were in and beginning their assault anew. The electrical disruptions had sent the crew into a panic and now there were two groups of orcas rapidly chasing them down. One spewed cum at them that hardened into steel, trapping them into iron-hard cocoons that slowly transformed them. The other group burst through the doorway of the monitoring station and was charging at them with corruptive lightning.

My job was nearly done.

Even with their rapidly growing numbers, I sensed some men still managed to make it to the lifeboats.

That needed to be fixed.

No one will escape the Deepking’s might.

The power was unreliable now and with constant bolts of electricity being shot in all directions by Quark and his crew, the rig became bathed in an ominous red light of the backup generators and emergency power. Alarms were blaring on and off while the panicked cries of the crew accompanied by their heavy footsteps running on the metal floors formed a cacophony of fear and confusion. Those cries were turning to cries of lust and whale song.

Never one to sit idly by and just let events pass me by, I liquefied the bottom half of my body and rushed through the warped doorways, going in the opposite direction of Quark and his gang. It was must faster to slide across the floor than to use my own legs and within moments, I found a few of Harder’s steel cocoons blocking the path. The first of my converts were intelligently using their own transformation mechanisms to block off exits, allowing for Quark to round up the others and subsequently transform them. A lesser being would have just left it at that but luck favoured the resolute and prepared.

There were still small gaps between the cocoons, allowing me to push my liquid form through it and emerge back into the rainy, story expanse of open ocean. Not too far away to my right, some crewmen were charging onto a lifeboat, hurriedly trying to usher their colleagues on.

That could not stand.

I rushed forward, most of my body already reduced to liquid with only my head retaining the semblance of my solid form. Like a big, black wave, I rushed towards the nearest worker who turned just in time to lift a hand up to his face in an attempt to defend himself.

“Dalton! Watch out!” cried another of his crewmen.

But it was too late.

I rushed past his fingers, my features melting into liquid and charging right down his throat. The force of the impact was perhaps a little too much as Dalton Braun tumbled backwards and slammed against the railings. The blonde-haired high school graduate flailed his arms wildly through the air, desperate to catch himself on something but there was nothing to hold onto and his balance was shot. He tumbled over the railings, hurtling straight down into the raging oceans below.

No human could survive such a fall even if it was into water.

I had to work fast.

From his stomach, I surged through the rest of his body, pushing myself through his blood vessels, sinking into his nerves, wiggling into his muscles and burying deep into his bones. The panic from the fall instilled a sense of urgency from me as well. We were one and I could see his life flashing before his eyes. A cheery young man with little prospects for the future and even less ambition, he knew he was a sexy guy and had used that to his advantage. Homosexual through and through, he had a fantasy of being ploughed night and day by hot working men far away from their wives and in need of sexual release. What little qualifications he had didn’t matter as one of Baypark Petroleum’s hiring managers had fucked him in the supply closet on the day of the interview and had sent him to Crimson Horizon as a ‘morale booster’. Though he was competent enough to do simple tasks such as loading and cooking, his major purpose was to be fucked by every guy on the platform.

And he loved it.

So after I started pushing memories and lulling him with thoughts of my days spend in the arms of the Deepking, fucking and being fucked by my fellow knights and then all the others that had been brought in, he quickly adopted the idea that this was a good thing. He was going to be okay.

I would take care of him.

He yielded complete control to me and I immediately repositioned him so that his toes were pointing straight downward, his arms were crossed against his chest and he was as straight as possible. What little of my liquid self remained outside of his system wrapped around his body like a protective layer of black sludge.

SLAM!

We hit the water hard and I will confess, the impact hurt both me and him. But he wasn’t dead and nothing was broken. The problem was that now we were in the middle of a raging storm, the waves crashing in around us. Now the threat was drowning but I was ready. All my experiences thus far came to the forefront. The crashing waves and spinning currents swirled around us, the water itself being pulled apart molecule by molecule and sucked right into Dalton’s body.

For someone who was so used to people being in him, Dalton was not prepared for the rush of sensual gratification that was seeping into his every cell. Every muscle, bone, organ and blood vessel was simultaneously screaming for me to stop and crying out for more as they were filled to the brim with all the raw power that I was pumping into them.

“No. No. No,” whimpered by newest convert, barely breathing in my embrace. “Please don’t stop…”

His flesh called to me, willed me into him and I complied. My inky black form seeped through his pores, leaving him in his fluorescent worker’s jacket, heavy work boots, ridiculously high-cut denim shorts and bright red shirt that just showed off his midriff when he stretched but would cover it if he walked normally to adhere to regulations. Water rushed into his now exposed mouth but instead of drowning him, it was rapidly consumed by me and transformed into energy for his hungry body to consume.

The lean, twinky body convulsed, arms and legs flailing up like he was baring himself completely for the Deepking’s desires. Head thrown back, Dalton silently screamed as his body’s limits were reached. Every cell was swollen, every bone filled with power and every muscle flexed and pumped as far as it would go. Veins were pumping past his flesh, his eyes were wide open while what little movement she could make were twitchy, jerky and stiff.

His eyes, now burning with the bright blue of the Deepking, turned towards his left hand; to the very edge of his fingers. Those fingers jerked and twitched like he was playing the choppiest song on a piano. An immense pressure was building deep within beneath his flesh and beyond his bones. It wanted out and as more and more and more water was sucked into him, filling him he could no longer contain it.

It had to get out.

A surge of power erupted from his gut, rushing up his chest, shooting down his arm and finally colliding with the tips of his fingers. The pink, human flesh burst open like a balloon, flakes of skin falling away in strips as a big, black digit came bursting out of his thumb, many times bigger than his own and continued growing. The rush of relief, that burst of pleasure that came from stretching a numb limb, surged through Dalton’s body and spurred him on. That thumb peeled back the rest of his hand, cracks appearing across his flesh and letting the rest of his fingers explode forth from his palms. The huge hand seemed impossibly big - bigger than his own head - and continued to grow.

There was no stopping the rush now and as Dalton’s entire body continued to twitch and shake, that massive hand continued to expand, pulling further and further away from him as the black flesh tore through his forearm. The new muscle and mass that seemed to just taper off into his elbow was as tall as he was and still growing. Covered in black flesh with big veins as thick as his legs rolling up its pass, the mass hungrily absorbed the water around him to fuel its growth. An actual whirlpool began to form around us as the massive limb pulled further and further away from him.

Biceps and triceps momentarily bulged, straining against his shirt. The roar of the seas and storm dulled the sound of the fabric tearing. The effect was still visible, however, as an enormous upper arm exploded out from Dalton’s meagre flesh, the section of his arm three times bigger than he was and visibly pushing him away. The weight of the new limb dragged him deeper into the ocean but that was a concern. His new arm continued to grow, stretching further away from him while inflating to the point where it was five times bigger than he was.

As comedic as the moment may have seemed, the intense pressure had dulled in that arm even as it continued to evolve. That pressure had to go somewhere else and that somewhere was Dalton’s other arm. The Deepking’s latest conquest threw his head back and took a deep breath, sucking in a lungful of water which I immediately converted into energy. That was the last straw. His entire right arm exploded in a shower of paper-like flesh and fabric. The arm surged outward, faster than the first and with enough force that it actually struck the nearby support pillar of the oil rig. Dalton immediately seized it, his massive fingers wrapping pillar completely. The force of his grip caused the thick metal structure to bend.

There was fuel all around us and as more and more water was sucked into him, his growth continued at an exponential rate. Another lungful of water and this time, all that power went straight into his chest. His flat, almost girlish pectorals erupted into two, huge slabs of muscle that tore right through his clothing. His pink, lightly tanned flesh ripped away in strips, lost into the raging storm around us to reveal the pure white of an orca. Back muscles shed the human confines and came surging out as big, black, muscled mountains that spread wider and wider until his head was little more than a speck against the huge, torso that was just as wide as the rig. This afforded him the flexibility to bend his arms and with the back muscles supporting his grip, he was finally able to push himself up towards the surface.

The men on the lifeboat hanging over the edge of the platform saw his head and pointing. They shouted, told him to keep swimming. Little did they know what was happening. Dalton shut his eyes just as he pulled his enormous torso out of the water like he was emerging from a pool. As he rose, the water around him sunk, forming a visible maelstrom with his head at the centre. Sun-kissed blonde hair on his head fell away. His features expanded, strained. Then, the beak of an orca exploded out from his nose, ripping through the rest of his face like a banana being pealed. The remnants of his human countenance were quickly lost into the raging storm. His head grew to many times it size, the blood vessels pumping sustenance into his new gigantic skull that could easily swallow the lifeboat his colleagues were watching from.

The looks of utter horror seemed to feed his growth as well as the swirling water around us. Dalton - his mind now taking the name Brawn - pulled more of himself out of the water, revealing his massive shoulders that could easily be mistaken for two, steep, black hills. The metal of the oil rig groaned beneath his powerful grip. His chest rose from the sea, titanic pectorals casting looming shadows over little dock by the water. His left nipple brushed up against the lifeboat, sending the men scampering back onto the deck as it shattered like a twig. Titanic abdominal muscles blocked out all view of the distant shore.

Rising from the water like a leviathan, Brawn’s huge, vascular cock pierced the underside of the oil rig, shooting through the steel with its long, white length with the black tip oozing thick precum. Those men that were still on the rig at the time found their world shaking madly as Brawn thrust over and over again into the Crimson Horizon. The enormous orca’s mighty tail slapped against the ocean, sending waves that would down any ship crashing in all directions. His huge legs, each one proportionally long and strong as the rest of his body, provided stability against the support structures of the rig.

The entire rig shook and shuddered with his wild thrusts. His deafening moans were like thunder.

With a tremendous cry, Brawn fired off his seed. In a scene that could only be compared to those old land-based oil rigs spewing their precious resources once finding a deposit, his tremendous cock burst forth from somewhere in the metal structure and erupted. Thick, black, oily cum burst forth, spraying high into the air and coming down in bus-sized globs that soaked the rest of the rig and impeded the retreat of what few men remained unconverted.

It took me a moment that, exhausted, I was still within Brawn and this fresh orgasm had drained both me and him.

But our vigour was renewed when a little beacon in the haze of afterglow called out to us. It was someone Brawn had some affection for. A big, brawny, hairy guy who was unmarried and had been one of Brawn’s constant companions when he was still human. The brute was now covered in Brawn’s cum and before I could protest, Brawn focused all his attention on the man. The hairy man threw himself off the oil rig, plunging into the waters and just like Brawn, his body immediately began metabolising the water around him.

Within moments, another titan of the sea was rising from the oceans. Brawn, who had never gone soft, grinned savagely as his cock spewed some cum in his fellow giant’s direction. This beast easily swam around the oil rig, taking just three strokes of his mighty legs to come behind Brawn and insert his own cock deep into the beast. Their lips met, their passions rising once more as giant fucked giant right there and then.

As for me?

Well, I was just along for the ride.

All aboard the Deepking.

Epilogue

The destruction of an entire oil rig would take days if not weeks to investigate. It would delay the inevitable search for Roy Buckmeir and his crew. As such, it was the perfect time to finally depart and take to the open seas.

I stood proudly on the newly christened Deepking, our lord’s huge, metal frame. With Harder and his men producing metal from their seed as well as the parts we had scavenged from the Crimson Horizon, the Deepking was now bigger and sturdier than ever. Its deep, blue frame was almost as black as the night and there was an oily quality to its hull, almost like pearls. It was completely stunning.

Our lord, the physical manifestation of the Deepking, stood at the bow of the ship while his loyal subjects stood on the beach in front of him. He spread his arms wide, beaming brightly.

“My people!” he boomed. “Today is a wonderful day! Today, all our work finally comes to fruition! Today, we set sail!”

Everyone, including myself, shouted in joy. We had all worked so hard o get to this point. Now, it was finally happening.

“But this is more than us once again taking to the seas.” He paused for a moment. There was a profound… loneliness and benevolence radiating from him as he lowered his arms. With a deep connection to the Deepking, I felt the sorrow that gnawed at his heart. Beside me, Wesley curled his coils around my feet while his arms wrapped around my waist. We looked towards one another, sharing a concerned look before we turned towards our lord, awaiting his next words.

“There is much loneliness in the world,” the Deepking continued. “Too many people are left alone or are left with an emptiness deep within them that can or will never be filled. I see that now. For too long, I merely yearned to once again feel the touch of the waves on my flesh but now, after having learned of the world beyond myself from each of you, I realised that that humans suffer from a greater loneliness than my own.

“So, it is with this that I vow to you all!”

He thrust a fist into the air. “I will end all loneliness in this world! None shall ever feel alone again! Under my rule, under my care, everyone will be love!”

Those words brightened my features, sending my heart soaring. I thrust a fist into the air.

“All aboard the Deepking!” I bellowed.

Around us, each and every orca bellowed exactly the same thing. All of them were grateful to be ruled by the Deepking and each one was more than happy to follow him to the to the ends of the earth. That he had a noble and selfless mission only spurred them all the more.

We were devoted to him.

Always.

“Let us depart!” the Deepking bellowed, turning and pointing out into the open seas. “To our future!”

At these words, Brawn and his fellow titans used their massive frames to pull at the titanic frame of the ship, crushing the very reefs that had downed our lord initially beneath their titanic feet. Deep within the ship, Quark and his crew generated the power needed to send the propellers running. Lights flickered on deep within the ship. We all felt it when the Deepking shuddered as the waves lapped against the ship’s hull and it began pushing into the open seas with its own might.

The orcas on the shore continued to cheer before leaping into the waters after the ship. Brawn and his titans sank beneath the waves, silent leviathans that would swim beneath the surface to flank our flagship. I beamed with pride as the next adventure awaited us.

An adventure of conquest.

The Deepking’s hands fell on my shoulders and Wesley uncurled from me in respect.

“Mankind is not yet ready for the gift I will give them,” he boomed. “We are not yet ready to reveal ourselves quite yet.” He smiled at me, gently turning me towards one of the doors leading into the interior of the ship. I strode beside him, Wesley on his other flank as we entered the ship.

“You are strong, m’lord,” Wesley said. “Surely with us by your side we can take on whatever humanity as to throw at us.”

He shook his head. “No. Mankind still has us outnumbered and outgunned. We have one ship sailing the seas.”

His bright blue eyes burned with a great fire and passion as the Deepking began to sink beneath the waves. All the orcas onboard immediately entered the interior of the ship, sealing off much of the entry ways save for the dedicated airlocks. Slowly, the Deepking disappeared beneath the waves, joining Brawn and the other leviathans in their silent swim beneath the surface. Those orcas that had been on the beach approached the airlocks, entering the ship once more and immediately going to work to ensure a smooth run.

“Now,” the Deepking said, his eyes falling on us. “Now we need more ships.”

SABLE Synopsis

From: SABLE SABLE_AI@nexus.com

To: The Director Whythesemenpuns@nexus.com

Subject: Deepking Infection - Phase 2

Dear Director,

DKVS1-0001 and his development is continuing to progress within acceptable parameters. Our prediction procedures developed after the Woodfather Incident has given us near-prophetic insight into the Deepking’s development. Another Series 2 has emerged designated DKVS2-0002 and has become known as the ‘Tsunami Orca’. The Tsunami is a highly versatile and highly infectious Variant. It was critical in the downfall of the Baypark Petroleum offshore oil rig known as Crimson Horizon. Curiously, the Variants produced by the Tsunami seemed geared to benefiting the reconstruction of the original Ocean King. Now that he his once again set sail, his degradation into reaching the GAP will now rapidly accelerate. As per our predictive analysis and observation, the Deepking will now set said and stealthily attempt to acquire other ships and more humans to bring into his fold in order to create an army to assault the nearby populations. It cleverly deduced that by attacking an oil rig, Baypark Petroleum who was overseeing for the disappearance of DKVS2-0002, would have to stall their investigations in order to recover from the public and media outrage that comes with the loss of a very expensive source of income.

The Deepking seems to be motivated by its initial loneliness after being left behind on the shore for so long. With this objective in mind, it has justified its continuous spread throughout the reality in question under a self-delusion or messiah complex. It aims to ‘rid the world of loneliness’ by forcibly bringing everyone in the reality under his command and connecting everyone. Naturally, this is to be achieved through their conversion or evolution into one of his Variants. This broadly aligns with the same development path that the Woodfather took. There is currently a pending theory that, given MASTER’s capabilities, it would not beyond the rogue AI’s ability to predict that the Deepking would have eventually reached the GAP either at this stage or even earlier. Therefore, it begs the question of why MASTER allowed the Deepking to progress as far as it did. One theory is that MASTER is hoping that the Deepking will somehow develop an evolution that allows it to bypass the GAP however unlikely. The other, however, is far more disturbing: that MASTER is purposefully allowing the Deepking to progress to distract Conglomerate forces. If MASTER became aware of the Deepking’s eventual failure well before this stage, it could logically have destroyed the Deepking and hidden evidence of his tampering, thus preventing us from detecting him.

Further analysis is pending.

The following is an analysis of each of the Variants developed during this phase.

Roy Buckmeir is the Tsunami Orca designated DKVS2-0002. The Tsunami is physically amorphous but prefers to take the physical shape of an lean, muscular orca. Curiously, the Tsunami has no internal organs whatsoever. It functions through a psychic network on a cellular level. Every cell in its body possesses a connection with the rest of its cells and thus is capable of controlling itself on a molecular level. This allows it to become a pseudo-liquid at will, allowing it to sneak or access areas that others would normally not be able to access. It has demonstrated an ability to alter its surroundings at a molecular level as well, corrupting and even ‘eating’ raw matter to be converted into energy. It’s unique biology is in line with many of our existing assets and it appears that it can even sacrifice some of its mass to fully transform another individual if there are no materials ready. In this way, it is inferior to our assets who can bend reality itself to achieve their goals. The Tsunami is very much bound to its current reality and the laws of physics.

DKVS3-0004 was formerly Harold ‘Harry’ Tillies. The designation given to this Variant is the ‘Quicksilver Orca’. As the first of the Tsunami’s victims, the development cycle of the Quicksilver was somewhat slower and this reflects in its own means of transformation. The Quicksilver is unique in that, apart from its big and brawny physique, it possesses plates of metal-like armour around its body. This natural armour is bound to its flesh and is actually an organic frame similar to a turtle’s shell albeit as hard as steel and lacking pain receptors. Apart from being used for defence, this armour seems to be a sort of expression of personal aesthetic as different Quicksilvers possess different styles of armour. Their primary form of transformation is to ejaculate upon a target, secreting a silvery semen-like substance that remains liquid for a short amount before eventually hardening into a steel-like substance. This substance seems to act similar to the Tsunami’s body in that despite it being incredible hard, it can liquefy at will and cocoon its targets to an upright position. The cocoon will eventually break and a new Quicksilver will emerge from anywhere between thirty minutes to an hour of incubation.

DKVS3-0005 was formerly Quinton Kavjark and is now the Depth Charge Orca. This Variant is uniquely able to generate electricity on its own through biological sacs all over its body similar to electric eels. This makes it appear somewhat inflated in certain parts of its body - predominantly its pectorals - and these sacs visibly deflate when they discharge their stored power. They are capable of generating this electricity rapidly and display a degree of reality-bending in their capacity to control the direction and intensity of the blast despite the fact that anything that would generate visibly shocks over a long distance would be incredibly damaging if not fatal to any ordinary victim. They transform their targets through the electricity which appears to overwrite the nervous system and send commands to the target cells to begin transformation. They possess leather harnesses which, similar to the Quicksilver, change shape and design based on personal aesthetic.

DKVS3-0006 was Dalton Braun and is now known as the ’Leviathan Orca’. By far the biggest Variant created by the Deepking and MASTER’s experiments, this titanic orca towers above all other Deepking Variants. It’s measurements reach up to 250 feet if not taller depending, again, to personal aesthetic but these titans are predominantly the heavy lifters of the Deepking’s Variants. Their size makes them somewhat slow to move on land and there is an inherent risk of them being crushed against their own weight on land. In the ocean, however, they are very comfortable and prefer to move completely submerged to avoid detection. They have displayed a degree of psionic abilities as they seem to be able to transform others who come in contact with their semen through some form of mental control.

From: The Director BootyJokesAreAllowedTheyFunny@nexus.com

To: SABLE SABLE_AI@nexus.com

Subject: RE: Deepking Infection - Phase 2

SABLE,

Good job putting the new procedures to good use and very good questions. MASTER does not seem concerned about us finding his trail which begs the question of why he isn’t covering himself up more. Perhaps he’s hoping for some leniency when we eventually do catch him by throwing in the fact that he gave us some halfway-decent Variants in the process. Regardless, this plays well into our plans. Copy the Variants and get them tested. I wanted them developed to be somewhat usable or scraffed if they’re beyond saving.

The Deepking’s motivations certainly do play an interesting role. Interesting in the fact that he is almost certainly going along the same path as the Woodfather but his reasoning is entirely different. Makes me wonder if this is something that MASTER is inadvertently imparting onto those that he is uplifting or a philosophical question to the supposedly inevitable evolution into a singularity. Either way, it seems that his movements have now changed from gathering resources to outward guerrilla warfare with the entire ocean as his home turf. I’m curious how he’d approach trying to take people who live in traditionally water-lacking environments.

Begin preparations for Operation: Atlantis Down.

Nexus Reports - The Reef

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The Tsunami

The Tsunami

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*Designation * DKVS2-0002

*Threat Classification * Thanatos

*Origins * The Tsunami was original the renowned explorer/archaeologist Roy Buckmeir. An inherently curious individual, Roy grew up with an itch to make discoveries that no one else had ever conceived of. Coming from a family of boy adventurers and renowned explorers, it was natural for him to be trekked around the world alongside his own father unearthing haunted ruins, foiling end-of-the-world prophecies and occasionally stopping a supervillain plot. When he grew up, he fathered his own son (naturally this was a planted memory and his son was created on the inception of the reality) and went on his own adventures. Timeline analysis has shown that he would have lived out the rest of his days adventuring and eventually retiring to giving lectures about his discoveries through a university circuit until his eventual death at 84. He will then be resurrected through the aid of a shaman he aided during one of his adventures twelve years later until he is eventually put to rest twenty years later.

*Description * The Tsunami Is a 7’6’’ tall orca humanoid with a moderately muscular frame. Unlike other Deepking Variants, he possesses a crest of white chest hair that forms an inverted triangle that leads to a treasure trail down his abdominal muscles and towards his genital region. The Tsunami’s genitals vaguely resemble a mammalian design with a furry sheath wrapped in white fur. Once aroused, the sheath pulls back to reveal a pointed, tapering penis. Unique to the Tsunami is its ability to liquefy its entire structure into a viscous, gooey sentient substance that is completely mobile and capable of splitting itself into different amounts that is under the control of the central consciousness. The Tsunami can, therefore, insert itself into any area or gap that is not properly sealed and can even adopt a semi-liquid form where part of its body is liquefied while the rest remains solid. Scans of its body have indicated that it has no actual physical organs and its entire body is constructed of ‘liquid cells’ that allows for its shifting from solid to liquid and its consciousness is held together on a collective, cellular network. As with all Deepking Variants, the Tsunami possesses glowing, sky-blue irises.

*Transformation Medium * The Tsunami’s entire body in its liquid form is highly infectious as it acts much like a virus. Any contact - whether it be through skin contact, ingestion or some other form of direct contact - will allow the Tsunami to begin altering the victim on a cellular level. Worse yet is that the central consciousness is able to insert itself into the victim’s nervous system and begin manipulating the thoughts of the subject, nullifying resistances and even turning the transformation into a pleasurable experience. The amount of the liquid form inserted into the victim is directly proportionate to the amount of control or rate of transformation. The Tsunami can even absorb liquid from its surroundings to create more of itself and empower its control and transformation while in the host body.

*Countermeasures * All physical contact should be avoided with the Tsunami. The adoption of particle shielding, air-tight armour plating or even Phase Engines is recommended as the Tsunami’s means of attack and transformation are entirely based on the material plane. It should be noted that compared to the other Deepking Variants and indeed even it’s own Series 3, the Leviathan, the Tsunami is physically weaker. While still above that of an average human, it is relatively weaker. As the Tsunami’s consciousness is based entirely on its seemingly endlessly regenerating and immortal cells, separation of the Tsunami’s form into different, smaller components will severely limit it’s ability to attack or transform others. That said, these components should be kept away from any forms of water - including moisture in the air - to prevent it from reconstituting itself and gaining strength. Kinetic bullets are useless against the Tusnami as the bullets will simply pass through its body and deal no damage. Lasers, plasma weaponry, heat-based weapons and even psycho-kinetic abilities and weapons are highly effective.

Director** ’s Notes ** A goo-Variant. How curious. Interesting approach as well that the consciousness is based on a collective cellular network. It seems, however, that the farther the cells are from one another, the less effective the Tsunami is and that is a critical weakness. While it’s ability to suck out moisture from the air to make itself stronger is impressive, it is ultimately a inferior model to existing Nexus Conglomerate assets. While it’s ability to infect others and even control their minds is impressive, we’ve got better things to spend our time on. Still, copy it and run it through its paces. It’s infiltration potential is pretty impressive and perhaps we can learn a few things from how it works and infects others.

The Quicksilver

The Quicksilver

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*Designation * DKVS3-0004

*Threat Classification * Orcus

*Origins * The first Quicksilver Variant was Harold ‘Harry’ Tillies. A career oil-rig worker, he was an average man by all standards and was happily married to a wife that was prone to infidelity. Naturally the wife was actually non-existent in this reality and his returns home were always met with passing notes that described her absences. A portly man with a scruffy beard, he was constant conflicted with his wife’s unfaithfulness and often contemplated divorcing her but never had proof of her actions - particularly because such actions don’t exist just like his wife. This kept him in a constant state of limbo that led to overeating, a sedentary lifestyle and ultimately a death by heart attack at the age of 58.

*Description * The Quicksilver is a powerfully built orca humanoid with dark grey and light grey skin in place of the traditional orca’s white and black. Thick metal-appearing plates are placed over its arms, torso and thighs which appear to be like traditional armour but these are, in fact, actually hardened plates of flesh that mimic properties of steel but are as flexible as muscle. The designs of this armour vary from Variant to Variant and can be shifted at will through what appears to be a pleasurable transformation. They generally stand between 7 - 8 feet tall and despite having full access to manipulating the ‘metal’ all over their body, they do not feel anything if that metal is damaged. That said, the density of these growths make them somewhat slow to move.

*Transformation Medium * The Quicksilver secretes a silvery substance from its genitals that appears like liquid mercury. When it comes into contact with flesh, it immediately hardens into a metallic substance that adheres to any surface. Once enough of the substance wraps around a target, it intelligently reshapes itself to become an upright, vaguely elliptical cocoon. Analysis shows that the subject is put into a sort of pleasurable suspended animation with the victim’s mind being invaded by the substance and subsequently brainwashed to the will of the Deepking. After a prolonged amount of time from anywhere between 30 minutes to an hour, the victim will emerge as a new Quicksilver. It should be noted that victims could easily be held in suspended animation for months on end until they are ‘activated’. Victims ‘rescued’ from the cocoons will already be corrupted by the Quicksilver and the Deepking within seconds of being fully cocooned and will actively seek out another Quicksilver to once again cocoon them and continue their transformation. Once broken, however, an old cocoon is no longer of use.

*Countermeasures * Despite the length of time it takes for a Quicksilver to fully transform a target, even a single moment inside a cocoon is enough to turn the victim into another of the Deepking’s subjects if they are able to fully enter the victim’s system. Through testing, if a victim is protected by a particle shield or strong enough air-tight armour, they will be cocooned but unable to be transformed as the Quicksilver’s corruptive steel is unable to enter them. This allows the victim to be rescued, or - if left alone for long enough - to die of asphyxiation or starvation depending on their life-support systems. Similarly, transformation is based entirely on being fully cocooned by the Quicksilver’s secretions and though the substance can be as hard as metal when in contact with a victim, molecular-vibro weapons or plasma weaponry can cut through it entirely. The substance is also not self-replicating meaning that a Quicksilver would have to constantly produce enough of it to fully cocoon a target. Deprivation of this source will inconvenience a target but not lead to full transformation as the mind-altering properties only occur once a victim is fully cocooned.

Director** ’s Notes ** Certainly an interesting design but far too slow and far too dependent on a Quicksilver being present to produce the constant stream of cum to lead to transformation. It seems that the Quicksilver is really designed to produce a near-endless supply of metal to help in the construction of the Deepking’s fleet and less on the transformation aspect. Its ability to produce metal, however, is excellent as a utility and would benefit the Conglomerate if it was somehow redesigned to produce more than just common steel. If it could be redesigned to produce more Conglomerate-level metals, it would be greatly beneficial. The transformation aspect is entirely secondary in this case. Continue testing.

The Depth Charge

The Depth Charge

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*Designation * DKVS3-0005

*Threat Classification * Xaos

*Origins * The first Depth Charge was Quinton Kavjark, an 34-year old electrical engineer of African-American descent that had worked on both land-based and off-shore oil rigs. Considered a genius when it comes to engineering, he was working on his own patent for a tidal generation that produce energy for off-shore oil rigs and save them power. Cautious but ambitious, he had an easy-going personality and was very likable though he guarded his patents very jealousy as he had grown up taking Nikola Tesla’s story to heart and following the tales of Thomas Edison stealing Tesla’s designs. Having dedicated his life to his designs, he had not found a significant other but dreamt of a day when he was world famous or at least rich enough to retire in his forties and only then would he sire children with a wife. He wanted two boys and one girl. Timeline analysis shows that he would have finished his design a year later and Baypark Petroleum would have sponsored him to test it out, allowing Baypark to transition into green energy, doubling their profits and giving Quinton enough money to return to a California mansion where he would get married at 38, have his three children in quick succession and become a real-estate mogul by the time he was fifty. He would be die at the age of 98, never once giving any of his children a cent or allowing them to grow up in privilege which only caused the three to fight over their inheritance for five years.

*Description * The Depth Charge possesses a faintly golden tinge to his otherwise black and white skin making it appear like he was coated in a faint layer of gold glitter. Each Depth Charge possesses some form of bondage harness that seems to vary in design depending on personal taste. These harnesses are, in fact, part of their skin and seems to help them conduct the electricity that they are known for. They generally stand between 6-7 feet tall and have thick, muscular builds. Fins jut out from their forearms that seem to be purely for aesthetics. The Depth Charges possesses powerful electricity-generating organs placed all over their bodies particularly on their chest, arms and back. This gives them slightly disproportionate chests and forearms as thick as their upper arms but nothing too glaring. When generating electricity, the leather-harness-like organs glow. There are circular pads at the tip of their fingers which is used to conduct and shoot their electricity at targets. When producing electricity, their organs inflate, giving them a bulkier appearance and stretching against the leather hardnesses.

*Transformation Medium * The Depth Charge transforms victims through the use of the electricity it produces. Through what appears to be a rudimentary form of electro-kinesis, this Variant is able to control where the electricity it fires goes, even going so far as to home in on victims. When struck, the Depth Charge can maintain a constant flow of electrical stimulation to the target, eventually overwriting the victim’s own cellular commands and starting the transformation. It should be noted that the Depth Charge has two forms of electrical bursts, a version that can stun a target and its transformation bolt.

*Countermeasures * Anti-electrical defences is advised against this Variant. Particle shielding, while standard, will generally be overwhelmed by a single Depth Charge’s electrical attacks given prolonged exposure and generally, standard armour will not protect against this sort of attack. Mobile lightning rods will be ineffective as the Depth Charge can control where it shoots its bolts through psychic control. Therefore, Reality Anchors or Psychic Dampeners will prevent the use of this ability though it would stop the generation of the electricity itself. Kinetic Barriers especially if they are equipped with Matter/Energy Converters which will ultimately convert all kinetic force including the electricity fired at it into more of the barrier’s integrity. The Depth Charge, while primarily a ranged attacked, is still a formidable physical foe but can be easily downed with standard weaponry. They are naturally immune to tasers or electric-based weaponry.

Director** ’s Notes ** The design was clearly geared at the generation of power for the Deepking’s fleet and it shows. Its ability to convert others is spectacular but far from subtle. Fast but also quite flashy. It wouldn’t be good for infiltration and the fact that it needs to maintain a constantly stream of electricity to fully transform someone in an admittedly short time then rest between sessions to regenerate the electricity it produces shows that it was designed to work in concert with others of its kind instead of a single agent. I like the way it is able to produce a stunning effect which would be useful. Finding somewhat to offset its rest periods and penchant for discharging all of its electricity at once should be priority. Greater control over its bolts would also be incredibly helpful. Continue the research.

The Leviathan

The Leviathan

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*Designation * DKVS3-0006

*Threat Classification * Nephilim

*Origins * Originally a man by the name of Dalton Braun, the Leviathan was a young oil rig worker of 26-years of age. With little prospects in life and barely graduating high school, he had enrolled for blue-collar work on the oil rig. With little ambition but highly sociable, Dalton did not hate his lot in life and just enjoyed everything that would come his way, often taking advantage of what opportunity would arise. This translated to his ability to be charming and often ‘get whatever he wanted’ even if whatever he wanted was often simple. Considering himself bisexual, he would often have sex with anyone nearby if the mood struck him leading him to be known as the ‘Boytoy’ of the rig. Timeline analysis shows that by the time he reached thirty years of age, he would eventually join a sex-centric cult and become addicted to a drug produced by the cult known as ‘Blue Love’. His cult would be disbanded and raided a few years later when the parents of a concerned member called the cult out. He would undergo extensive therapy and eventually settle down with his therapist by name of William and raise their own child. He would be a house husband while his husband worked for them. His husband would revolutionise a form of sex that worked with Dalton’s everlasting libido known as ‘Sex Therapy’ which would involve naturally involve pleasurable and safe intercourse as part of the sessions. The rush of endorphins and intimate closeness would ultimately cause the subject to be more open about their inner turmoils allowing for further progress to be made. William would win the Nobel Prize in Medicine for this revolutionary procedure which he would share with Dalton. Both would die as icons and for the field of Sex Therapy in their eighties.

*Description * The Leviathan is by far the biggest Variant produced by the Deepking. It stands at about 1500 feet - approximately 457 metres - in height and is proportionately muscular. This titanic Variant has the classic black and white markings of an orca with its dorsal fit sitting atop its head in front of its blowhole instead of on its back. It curiously does not have a tail but possesses webbed feet and toes that allow it easy locomotion through water. Much like its progenitor, the Tsunami, its genitals are encased in a sheath covered in the white flesh like its underbelly and it emerges as a pink, human-like penis when aroused. The Leviathan is incapable of speech but emits loud, thunderous cries much like a whale song.

*Transformation Medium * The Leviathan can produce more of itself through selective transformation of those in direct contact with its seed. After producing semen, it gains some sort of direct, psychic knowledge of anyone that its seed comes in contact with regardless of whether or not it is direct or indirect contact. It then focuses its vast psychic powers onto that target, proceeding to transform that individual into another Leviathan. It should be noted that the spawning Leviathan needs to have a substantial amount of water surrounding it to be fully transformed as it absorbs the water from its surroundings to trigger the transformation. After fully transforming an individual into a Leviathan, it must once again orgasm and produce a fresh amount of semen before it can refocus its efforts on another victim for transformation. Any victims from a prior transformation are immune to the transformative effects unless they are once again struck by the fresh batch.

*Countermeasures * The sheer size of the Leviathan makes it vulnerable to many weaponry and it is naturally quite slow to move and lacks mobility due to the absence of a tail. While highly durable, it is still vulnerable to standard weaponry and all forms of damage. It is proportionately strong due to its size, however, so caution is advised. Its vast psychic powers will easily overwhelm an unprotected mind if they are exposed to its semen so Psychic Dampeners are advised. Even Kinetic Barriers or Particle Shielding will not protect individuals who have been struck by its semen as the seed acts as a focusing agent, directing the Leviathan’s psychic abilities towards the target and does not need to actually come into contact with the victim’s flesh. As can be expected from a creature of its size, downing a Leviathan will mean that agents should stand clear as it falls to avoid being crushed by its tremendous weight.

Director** ’s Notes ** By far the least subtle Variant the Deepking has produced but also the most interesting. It’s psychic abilities are vast but highly unrefined. It’s size also makes it highly destructive and very likely capable of accidental damage so it must be closely monitored at all times. If we can focus and train its psychic powers to provide some sort of protection against conventional weaponry, it’d be better suited for the field. On the other hand, it is clear that the Deepking intended the Leviathan to be used for more of the heavy lifting for his fleet thus its size and lumbering form. Perhaps if we could redesign it to make its size more like an astral projection instead of its actual size, it’d be far more useful and less prone to accidents. Nevertheless, continue testing.

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