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Alternative Solutions - Part 4 (Commission for Drash)
🕑 Added 2021-12-15 17:13:50 +0000 UTCTAGS: M/F, Breeding/Breed Frenzy, Growth/Expansion, Hyper, Multi, Mutation/Rampant Mutation
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Meanwhile, as Drash did his best to lug around an increasingly heavier and larger package, halfway across the city another draconid was getting busy trying to squeeze into their home; or rather, the dorm they were forced to call home for the duration. Being as big as she was, Sheyla had never quite liked having to fit into such a relatively tiny space; she was used to far more spacious interiors back at her parent’s place, before she had to go “be independent” somewhere that couldn’t cater to her unique needs. She’d lost track of the amount of times she nearly slipped on the stairs on the way up, wondering to herself why she hadn’t moved mountains to get a damned dorm on the ground floor; it was bad enough that her tits were large enough to smush against the steps, bad enough that their weight made it hard for her to walk on a regular basis, but now she had to worry about all the milk spilling onto her feet, making it difficult to go up with the reduced friction. Really, at that point, having her egg-filled belly swell again was the least of her concerns, since at least then she had another point of leverage, not to mention a good reason for others to help her; after the amount of noise she made trying to get to her place, it wasn’t surprising that a handful of people opened their front doors to see what was going on, only to go red-faced and mute at the sight of the growing, bloating dragoness demanding their help. Half an hour it took, between her squishing herself into the main dormitory building and finally throwing herself at her own door, only to then realize that her tits were too big to fit through; once again, Sheyla sighed, figuring that her milking regimen was clearly insufficient now that she had to worry about all those eggs inside her. Dismissing her helpers, letting them know she had no more use for them, the dragoness turned her head to face the interior of her home-away-from-home, focusing entirely on a single goal: getting through. It didn’t matter if she had to break the doorframe; she could easily have it replaced and claim they were necessary damages. No, the issue lay with how much she had to squeeze her own tits just to get them through, which not only caused a lot more spillage than was already taking place, but, by the time Sheyla did manage to get through, had led to an unfortunate multiplication of her own; almost like the force she applied had split her breasts into two, the dragoness now had two rows of hyperactive milktanks, both of which quickly inflated back to the size of the original one, leaving Sheyla so top-heavy that it took her body less than a second before it toppled forward… onto a gravid belly that was itself already bigger than all four tits combined, ripe with eggs and ready to deliver another clutch. Though, before that, Sheyla figured she should probably call her mom up; she recalled telling them that she’d do so whenever she had her first egg, and while that particular occasion had come and gone, her mom didn’t need to know that detail. As far as they would know, the very first batch was the one Sheyla was about to lay all over her bathroom floor, hence why the dragoness hurried to get her phone out of her pocket… only to remember that she was still fully nude, and had most likely left it back at campus. No matter, she had a landline in the house, and though its cord wasn’t too long, she was certain no one would mind if she dropped a few dozen eggs in the middle of the kitchen. With a smile on her face, Sheyla thus waddled over to her destination, just barely able to squeeze through the door once again, before dropping her fat (and fattening) ass on the ground underneath the phone, stretching her arm out to yank it from the receiver and spending an inordinate amount of time trying to get the number right. After a short wait, her mom picked up on the other end, excitedly asking how everything was.
“Yeah, just calling to let you know I got my first clutch coming along,” Sheyla interrupted them, stating this as if it weren’t a life-changing event, “pretty big too, got at least a few dozen.”
“... I’m sorry honey, what did you say?” - it was plainly evident from the tone of voice that the dragoness’ mother had perfectly understood what was actually said; believing it, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter - “Did you jus-”
“Oh yeah, big clutch; fucked a hottie in the bathroom earlier today and it’s gotten me full; pretty sure I’m close to triple digits here. A-actually, hold on” - Sheyla tried to muffle the speaker on her end, having sensed a pleasure wave coming to crash against her; she failed, letting her mother hear the long, throaty, almost whorish moan that escaped from her lips as her entire body bloated in response. Not only did her belly swell further, the clutch inside tipping over beyond the hundred-egg count, but her tits grew at least a good foot in every direction, burying her underneath her double bust; down below, her ass and thighs had both fattened to the point where, if she weren’t getting stuck in doors thanks to her tits already, Sheyla would’ve gotten stuck thanks to her cheeks and prodigiously soft legs - “Sorry about that, where was I again?”
“... young lady, if you think this is worth a prank call, then you and I are going to have a serious talk when you get back home!” her mother angrily shouted at her from the other end of the line, “I asked you to call me because it was serious! If you want to joke around, I suggest you take a long look at yourself and call me back when you’re ready to apologize!”
And with that, she hung up, leaving a very confused Sheyla to stare at the phone handle and wonder just what exactly had happened. Her mom asked her to call them in case of a clutch, and seeing her belly out in front of her made it quite obvious that this was the case; why were they reacting like this when their daughter just did as they asked? No matter, questions for later; Sheyla could feel the tightness rising inside of her, making it crystal clear just how close she was to laying her eggs… close enough that the dragoness figured she wouldn’t be able to get back to the bathroom in time. It was going to be a mess, and her morning self, several hours from there, would be having a headache and a half trying to clean it up, but it hardly mattered in the end; the eggs were going to come out anyway, so whether or not she did it somewhere easier to clean was a simple matter of convenience. Unfortunately for Sheyla, her body wasn’t just going to give her relief without warping itself in the process; the viral agent was still running rampant within her bloodstream, altering her interior to such an extensive degree that she was a brand new species all to her own. While outwardly it would be hard to tell anything was any different, apart from size of course, were one to peer into the dragoness’ breeding apparatus, one would find that her wombs has once again split into additional copies: two into four, then four into eight, with their attending ovaries similarly making multiples of themselves, flooding her egg makers with as much of their own produced eggs as possible. It was an automatic reaction, her body trying to make the best out of any sperm cell that might still exist inside of her, squeezing an extra few fertilizations out of what any other body would’ve been unable to even notice. Such was her fertility, as it very well should be; before long, Sheyla would have to stare at a belly that seemed to grow far in excess to what it should, her mind still not processing that she wasn’t merely looking at her eggs, but at a much more expanded array of wombs and ovaries that themselves were growing in preparation for whenever her third clutch was pumped into her. As a result, it didn’t take long before her gut was pushing against the cabinets on the other side of the kitchen from where she was sitting, most of the space in front of her taken up by her swollen midriff, spilling onto every side of her, accompanied by two pairs of milk-filled breasts whose weight was such that it was almost hard to breathe properly. Yet, this was all that Sheyla could ever want; this was where she belonged, her natural state: being full of eggs and about to lay them. She lived for that moment, lived for the sensations that came from it, even if it was only the second time she’d gone through it; the experience resonated with her on a level too deep for her to understand, forcing her body to adapt further thanks to the flood of serotonin that washed her brain clean of any thoughts but those of further breeding. Wouldn’t take long before the first “exotic” transformation took place as a result of the viral agent mutating uncontrollably; though Sheyla initiated thought that it was an egg coming out of her, the fact that it wriggled and writhed far more than the last ones told her that it had to be something entirely different. Maybe in different circumstances, the dragoness would’ve been terrified by the sight of a set of tentacles emerging from her slit, long and slender and seemingly possessed of a mind of their own; but in the horned-up state that she was in, all Sheyla could do was beg for them to “do something”, which the tentacles apparently interpreted as “wrap yourselves around my tits”, seeing as they immediately pounced upon the dragoness’ swollen udders, making sure to plug up her nipples for good measure. With her productivity seemingly ramping up in response, all it took were seconds before Sheyla was well and truly buried underneath the combination of her belly and tits, feeling the pressure rising while silently begging for it to never stop… until the first egg popped out. It was as if everything stopped, all sound vanishing for just that moment, just so that Sheyla could hear the soft clanking of the eggshell against the floor, knowing that she had begun laying her second clutch. It was a moment, but a precious one… and what followed was utter pandemonium. No one in her dormitory knew just what happened to Sheyla that night, but they knew what they heard for hours on end: the dragoness, screaming her head off in blissful ecstasy, begging to some unseen entity to “do it harder” whenever her tentacles plunged back into her slit, her cries of passion filling the air, and the ears of anyone unlucky enough not to have some noise-cancelling headgear. They couldn’t see the endless parade of eggs, being pushed out one by painfully one, each individual oval causing enough of a reaction in Sheyla’s brain that it almost shut down every single time, forcing the dragoness into a long, drawn-out process that would take her so long that she’d be asleep by the end of it. But she didn’t care; as far as she was concerned, she belonged there, among her eggs, underneath a body befitting of a broodmother, knowing that even though she was going to be empty by the end of it, that just meant she could be bred and filled again… by Drash, preferably.
Drash, who took so long to get down to the laboratory in the bottom floor that his main body, discounting the package he was carrying, barely accounted for a tenth of his body weight anymore, and even that wa mostly the hyper-dense musculature that the viral agent had refined time and time again, trying to keep him within a certain limit while still granting him absurd strength. It was necessary, if he wanted to drag himself from place to place carrying the sort of cock and balls that he was; if the six cum factories he had behind him weren’t enough (and they most certainly were), having a dick so massive that he could stand at the top of the stairs and have the tip of it be over halfway down the whole damned stairwell would certainly do it. He didn’t know how he could even lift it, only that he could; his body was strong enough still, and that was mattered, since as long as he could move, he could get to the lab and fetch the antidote. Obviously though, his affected physiology wasn’t just going to stop; even as Drash tried his best to get to his destination, the many internal cum producers lining the side of his cock bulged out further before splitting into two, creating a vast and absurdly productive array that only made his passive release all the more powerful. Simply by existing, the drake could leak out more cum than most breeder dragons could output in a proper climax, with the whole house quickly being flooded by the enormous quantities of jizz being pumped out of him. It didn’t help that he could feel its potency as well; if the size and pressure weren’t enough, Drash had to contend with his mind somehow being aware of how virile he was in practice, of how each sperm cell contained in those six immense cumtanks behind him could easily impregnate any dragoness with dozens of eggs. Did it make sense? Hardly; but he had overdosed on an experimental virility booster meant to replace entire populations, so clearly it was working as intended. The poor laboratory didn’t survive for long after Drash punched a hole through the door with the tip of his dick, the doorframe following suit as the wood was carved up by the myriad of spiky protrusions lining the full length of it, finished off when the drake outright thrust into it in order to get rid of some of his burning need. Much like with the bathroom, most of the wall around it came crumbling down; unlike the bathroom, Drash kept on barrelling through, effectively wrecking a good half of the lab equipment before he managed to stop… right after his shaft pierced through the wall in front of him and he had to pull it back. Panicking, the drake did his best to look around without moving anything other than his head; even swerving his torso would be enough to get that colossus of a cock to swing wildly, most likely ending up destroying the very thing he wanted to save. Even when he spotted the same cabinet he took the viral agent from, he had to very carefully shimmy his way over, deliberately avoiding raising his feet from the ground in order to avoid any slippage… all while utterly wrecking every cabinet, stand, rack and cart in the way, given that his body was simply too large not to be a living wrecking ball. Still, he did eventually get there, even if he left behind a trail of destruction; once by the cabinet, it was a simple matter of smashing it open and grabbing the first thing he saw that had the same number designation as the viral agent that wasn’t the original bottle, figuring that, if there were separate containers, then surely it must be something used to counteract the effects of the virus itself. It never occurred to Drash how ridiculous that was, hence why he eagerly uncapped the bottle and chugged all of its contents, some of them ending up splashing all over his muzzle and neck in his haste to stop his transformation… which it did. It was almost instantaneous: one moment he was practically paralyzed from the pressure, the next it had all gone away, even his endless leaking stopping, like someone had flipped an off switch and turned his productivity to zero. For a brief moment, Drash experienced relief, believing that he had somehow, against all odds, stumbled onto the answer.
And this his cock began to split. The moment passed and the pressure came right back, stronger than ever, all-but forcing Drash to bend forward when it hit his entire body so hard that it was almost painful. It gave him a perfect view of his dick, and of something appearing underneath it: a tip, much like the first one above, poking out from out of his slit, stretching the opening to accommodate what was unmistakably a second cock! It was painless, but not without causing ample concern, especially when he realized the full mass of it was exactly the same as his original rid: his body was outright copying his dick, forcing a second one to emerge from underneath it, complete with all of the internal cum producers, all the spikes, all the girth, until, after an unbelievably ecstatic thirty seconds or so, Drash’s arms gave up. He’d been holding the two shafts once the second poked out far enough for him to wrap his arms around, preventing them from falling on the ground, but even his improved strength had its limits; with a thundering thud, the lowermost dick smashed against the floor, cracking the stone panelling for several feet around, while the one on top of it… well, that one was busy placing enough pressure on its newest twin that both of them resumed leaking enough cum to thoroughly flood whatever was left of the lab. Drash could barely get a word out to lament his mistake before another growth spurt hit him, his six nuts undergoing yet another split, turning into eight full, hyperactive cum factories occupying most of the room behind him, while out in front Drash had to deal with a pair of cocks too massive for him to move around properly… at least, without causing ample destruction in the process. And if that wasn’t enough, his body still wasn’t done; he felt a different sort of pressure along his base, more so than the one already there thanks to his slit being stretched to the breaking point just to hold the two shafts inside of it. Something was emerging from him, though he couldn’t tell what; it felt like a series of individual, wriggling whatevers, almost like tendrils really, trying to escape from inside his slit and into the outside world. He wasn’t that far off, as much like with Sheyla, the viral agent had mutated to the point where it had granted Drash his own set of tentacles, near a dozen of them striving for whatever space they had, slithering out from within his already overtaxed slit and promptly going to work wrapping themselves around his twin cocks, coiling over their pre-slicked surface and almost instantly starting to tug and squeeze at them. His own body was milking him, that much Drash immediately realized, and though he’d come all the way down there in order to stop things from getting too out of hand, he couldn’t hold it back any longer. Had he not taken the viral agent because he wanted to be a breeder just like everyone else? Had he not stolen it so he could knock up whoever he wanted and not have to worry about shooting blanks? Well, now he not only had four pairs of balls to use, not only did he come equipped with two cocks to thrust into Sheyla (and only Sheyla; only she got to experience them), but his virility had skyrocketed, to the point where he wouldn’t be surprised if the dragoness was already laying a few eggs of her own back home; his body felt like it was burning up, temperature rising steadily the longer he couldn’t find release. He missed the dragoness, yearned for her, as if she was the only one who could possibly give him what he wanted; he was a breeder, sure, and the best one in the world as far as he was concerned, but every moment spent away from Sheyla was pure agony for him, the need for a good breeding only getting more and more dominant in his mind. But his body wasn’t done yet, and neither was the virus running rampant inside of it; though Drash couldn’t tell what exactly, he felt something change within the inside of his dicks, something that left him feeling so stuffed and bloated that it was a wonder he could still output at all. The drake didn’t know it, but his single urethra, already distended to the point where gallons of cum could fire through it each second, had itself multiplied, resulting in an arrangement of two, followed by four in a circular formation, all of which linked back to his cumtanks and the balls lining the sides of his twin dicks to further augment the sheer amount of seed spilling from inside him. It was enough to make him want to black out, the sensations too powerful for the drake to withstand them… but again, he body wasn’t done. By the time he was forced to rest upon a throne of nutflesh, with most space behind him being entirely occupied by his sack and cumtanks within it, Drash noticed his slit stretching again: with two cocks to copy now, he had maybe a second or two after the realization to brace for impact, followed by the tentacles emerging from within his slit wrapping themselves tightly around both his existing members, almost as if trying to force them out of the way of his brand new rods. As was predictable, his overall size didn’t change; indeed, for all that Drash’s cocks had been graced with two more, he ended up bigger than he had been before, giving him a quad of dicks so immense, so massive, that it only took a few seconds after the division for them to break through the wall on the far side of the lab, bursting forth into the great outdoors. Drash couldn’t mind; couldn’t, because his mind was too absorbed by the combination of his increasing heft and how the second dose of viral agent had somehow managed to make his sperm count even higher, its density reaching levels that shouldn’t be possible within the constraints of a mortal body. He had become nothing but a breeder, a machine designed to produce and output seed, and by the time he fully came to appreciate this, he also came to understand that he hadn’t actually climaxed yet. The last time he had, it had been in the bathroom: he only had one cock and four (eventually six) nuts, and he could only produce enough to fill up the tub. Now though? Now that he had eight cumtanks and four shafts, each of the latter equipped with further cum producers of their own and several swollen knots that themselves were capable of producing even more seed? Now that his body had been altered so that each dick had multiple urethras to help with the flow, and the sheer density of his sperm was such that it was at risk of collapsing in on itself? Well, he could hardly wait to see what it was like when he finally came, enough so that, rather than trying to flee from it, Drash began openly fondling himself, figuring that if he was stuck there until he was done, then he might as well have some fun while he was at it. In fact, it was precisely this acceptance that triggered the next phase of the transformation, though by then, Drash was too far gone to notice; just as his consciousness slipped away, his mind no longer capable of operating both conscious thought and the mechanical actions required for Drash to jack off properly, his very exterior began to warp and alter itself, with his head developing multiple horn-like protrusions and his muzzle elongating slightly, accentuating his draconic aspects. Why, though, was something Drash would only be able to tell in the morning, because he certainly wasn’t going to stay awake for the duration; moments after he decided to give in, he blacked out, his body working by itself in an hours-long self-exploration session that would end with most of his house being ruined by the end of it.
