mavortheturnip
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An Example To Set (Patreon Commission for Drewbermeister)
🕑 Added 2020-11-23 14:14:12 +0000 UTCTAGS: Transformation/TF, Werefox, Hyper, Macro
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He was used to getting everything done the exact way he wanted it, and there wasn’t a damned thing on the whole world that would change his mind; after all, who was going to tell him otherwise when he could pick up most of everyone he knew with a single hand without breaking a sweat? Certainly not his agent, certainly not the modelling agency, and absolutely not the authorities who were too afraid of what he might do if anyone dared to stand up to him… and not just because of the inherent physical threat either; the sort of power and influence Andy wielded was terrifying in its own right, enough to get even the most hardened of police commissioners trembling at the prospect of having the governor’s office call them late at night to let them know their services were no longer required. That is, of course, whenever the fox didn’t just throw oodles of cash at whoever might be able to fix the problem and then sat back waiting for it to go away. All in all, it was good to be him, and even better to be able to flaunt it.
The vulpine towered over everyone around him, as a result of his “unique” lycanthropic condition; rather than the extra size simply going away as soon as the transformation was done, somehow his genes had allowed remnants of his stints as a werefox to stick to him as the years passed, never really returning from his full moon-induced bouts of lustful madness the same way he went into them. While at first this didn’t mean much, things like those had a tendency to add up over time, and add up they did; the fox had gained so much extra size from his monthly outings that he had recently broken the fifteen-foot mark in height, his body ripped with well-defined, toned musculature that would put any career bodybuilder to shame. He didn’t carry the same proportions as they did, though; rather, his muscle mass was distributed to give both the visual and subconscious impression that he could both bend a steel beam with two fingers and still fit perfectly into a regular tuxedo and dress pants, assuming one could be tailor-made for his immense height.
Rather than lament this turn of events, however, Andy had made good use of it over the years; there were plenty of job openings for “freaks” like him if one knew where to look, and the fox decided that, if he loved to look at himself in the mirror, surely others would like to be blessed by the same sights. It was only logical, and indeed, his current agent seemed to think so himself, as the two of them wasted no time in signing an agreement and getting started on finding as many modelling opportunities for the werefox giant as possible. In just a few short years, he had become a worldwide sensation, courtesy of being one of the very few furs in existence who was both a lycanthrope and possessed that rather unique subset of the hyper gene; the resulting influx of wealth and fame was enough to propel him from a dead-end job working as a bouncer at a local nightclub to the glamorous world of private jets, taking extended trips halfway across the world because he was bored, and being able to tip a waiter their whole salary regardless of where he happened to be. And he loved it; the sense of power, the knowledge that he could do just about anything and no one would dare stand up to him, hell, just the ability to walk into a room and instantly make everyone quiet down the moment he took a single step, it was all absolutely perfect, and one hundred percent worth the hassle of occasionally having to waste a few days in a photoshoot.
There was one thing, however, that Andy knew and no one else did, a secret that he’d gone to great lengths to make sure no one found out about. That he was still growing was public knowledge; after all, the werefox did make his lunar madness part of his public persona, on multiple occasions arranging for special “full moon parties” with the highest bidding among his fans… and a few more strategically-picked individuals. Plus, given that he was a very famous person indeed, it was hard to hide the fact that he’d gone from twelve to fifteen feet over the course of his short career. No, that much wasn’t the secret; the secret was that his growth was getting faster each time… and that it was no longer circumscribed to his monthly transformations either.
He didn’t want to believe it at first, but the measurements didn’t lie; Andy kept very strict control over his weight and diet, and part of that meant making sure he kept himself within very specific limits for body mass. To his surprise, however, he was continuously getting heavier despite holding to his exercise regimen and not really eating anything out of the ordinary, which had initially baffled him, but ultimately led to the realization that his body was starting to expand without him having to undergo a lycanthropic episode. It hadn’t gotten bad enough that he was bumping his head against doorframes or accidentally crushing things because he didn’t know his own strength, but as soon as he began paying closer attention to his physical form, it was clear that even his muscles were starting to bulge out, even when he did nothing out of the ordinary in his private gym. What this meant was obvious, but he didn’t intend to reveal it to anyone… not just yet, at least. He liked to cultivate a certain air of mystery about him, and in fact had helped to spread the rumour that he was planning on “big changes” to his body in the future; it was nothing more than a marketing stunt for a full moon-themed photoshoot, but now? Now he actually had something he could use to fulfill that promise, and every time he thought about it he barely resisted the urge to lick his lips in predatory content.
Even his modelling agency didn’t know, though Andy figured it’d be best to tell them eventually… after the next cycle, that is; according to his calculations, given the sort of growth residuals he was keeping after he came down from his transformations, he reckoned that he’d easily be able to break through the thirty foot mark the next time he turned, and that would be enough of a spike to make everyone take a few steps back and wonder what was going on. The werefox intended to take full advantage of that, as part of a self-marketing ploy that would take the world by storm: “The Ascension”, he called it, whereby all of his fans would bear witness to him as he broke the bounds of mortality and became something greater, a true demigod of perfection… a full photo set of whom would be available should they be generous, open their hearts and drop the contents of their wallets directly into his personal savings fund, of course. After all, a god does not survive on faith and worship alone, and must be allowed to experience the full breadth of mortal experience; as soon as the cash started to roll in, Andy planned to take an extensive vacation in the Caribbean, where hopefully he’d be able to find enough room on a private beach to grow as much as he wanted without anyone bothering him.
The lead-up to the next full moon was thus mostly taken up by Andy preparing something special; nothing like the parties he arranged before, but something far more grandiose, something that would shake up the status quo after he was done. It would be televised, shown on every major news network and recorded for posterity, so that others may bask upon his glory long after he was done; it would serve as a historical archive, so that in fifty years one may adequately answer the question of “where did it all begin?”, all while the werefox loomed over all of the world from outside the researcher’s window… and after he shared with his agent the small secret that he’d been keeping so far, they were more than happy to jump aboard the plan and start working towards it as soon as possible.
Favors were called in, influence and renown were wielded like clubs, entire companies were subverted from the inside and made to sponsor an event that never in a million years would they even begin to think about getting close to. Journalists were paid off to run multiple stories on the werefox, entire opinion columns were bought so they’d focus entirely on Andy’s plan, all while keeping it vague enough that only one insane enough to try and piece together thousands of publications every day would be able to put two and two together. All that anyone knew for certain was that this superstar was planning something big, and they were planning on doing it on their next transformation; sure, it was obvious what they meant to do there, but how much more different would it be from the usual fare? Would they be sharing their lycanthropy? Would they be retiring and this was to be the final dance? Speculation ran rampant, and Andy himself kept feeding it with contradictory statements and cryptic remarks, such that when it came down to it, no one but himself and his agent would be privy to the truth.
The day arrived, and by that point the werefox had already flown over to the seaside resort where everything was planned to go down. His presence being slightly difficult to conceal, there were already thousands of fans crowding the local hotels and restaurants, hoping to catch a glimpse of what might happen, long before the actual guests began to arrive and made short work of the local tourist industry’s ability to deal with such a massive influx of people. Andy, for what it was worth, promised to pay for any damages incurred during his “little soirée”, not that it endeared any of the business owners to him; the werefox didn’t particularly care though, and spent most of the day before the full moon lounging on a section of the beach he rented out purely for himself. Somewhere in his room, he had left his laptop running, with a program calculating the projections for his growth spurt; they were constantly being updated whenever he measured himself, having found out recently that his bulking up in general was getting noticeably faster than even he anticipated, enough that he had already cleared through the sixteen-foot mark in height and no longer had any shirts that fit. Hell, his shorts barely clung onto him without ripping themselves apart from the strain, leaving him with a very clear bulge that occasionally grew a few additional inches. Things were going to get wild that night, and he was going to love every second of it.
As the sun went down and the moon became ever brighter in the sky, Andy mentally prepared himself for what was to come. He’d called his agent and asked him to check on his computer, only then finding out that his projected size post-transformation was… significantly larger than even he had expected it to be, leaving him to wonder how life would be like after he was done with it; there was no reason to believe his growth would simply stop after he was done absorbing the moon’s light, nor did he dare to assume such a thing, so it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility that he might just be stuck there by the seaside until they could charter some sort of long-haul truck to take him back home, assuming he didn’t just walk there. As it got darker though, the practical concerns surrounding his new size began to flow away from his mind, replaced with the increasingly loud sounds coming from the crowd gathering around him.
Journalists, dignitaries, acquaintances, rich people with nothing better to do, fan club leaders and the occasional contest winner, they were all there to some degree or another, as this get-together was nothing like the ones he’d had before. There was no marketing here, no intent to sell another photoshoot (yet), no new product to peddle or headline to write; no, this was something done purely to satisfy Andy himself, and his new and insatiable desire to be worshipped like the budding giant that he was. Many of the people surrounding him were quick to pick up on the fact that he was noticeably larger than he had been before, with some asking if the moon’s effects were starting already, only to be startled by a perfectly reasonable and calm response from the clearly-not-transformed vulpine; as soon as they saw the occasional bursts of extra muscle mass, or the low groaning of the chair he was using as the weight on top of it continued to mount, that’s when they realized what everything was about. It was hard to tell whether it was panic that set in, or if their minds had been so broken by the realization that they simply didn’t know how to react anymore, but the truth of the matter, the real reason why they had all been assembled there that night was quick to spread throughout the crowd. Skepticism ran rampant, especially amongst those that weren’t close enough to see the reality of it with their own eyes, but this would soon become a non-issue.
The sun’s light would eventually die down enough that the only bright thing left in the sky was the full moon. It shone down on all those present, promising big things in general, and big foxes in particular. Silence fell as everyone waited for the incoming transformation; typically, this involved a lot of clothes ripping and upholstery being destroyed, courtesy of Andy liking to put on a show, but not that time. Rather, all they got was the werefox, still lounging on his almost-broken chair, humming quietly to himself as he felt his lycanthropic power well up inside of him, spiking to heights that he had never felt or experienced before; it was burning red-hot, and yet wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest, it was pressure unlike anything, but more inviting rather than hostile. It told him to succumb, to give in, to accept his fate and move on from there, as if this had always been what he was meant to do.
The first spurt came, and with it, the chair was just gone, not even splinters remaining as his body crashed onto the sand below and kicked up such a large cloud that most of those immediately around him had to cover their eyes and cover their mouths. Within seconds, his feet were loudly splashing into the ocean’s water, while his shoulders and head were barrelling through the crowd and pushing so many of the little ones out of the way that, for a fleeting moment, the werefox deigned to worry about their wellbeing… right before pushing that thought out of his head and carrying on with his ascension. Another spurt, and he smashed into the promenade overlooking the beach, panicked screams erupting from the crowd around him while he, himself, laughed heartily at the destruction that he was causing; between his legs, the vulpine could feel that colossal cock of his growing to a size big enough to knock the wind out of his sails if he ever slapped it onto his chest, two nuts massive to the point where they already towered over most of those present, even if they looked only mildly disproportionate on his body.
He had to get up. To get closer to the moon, as he felt its imposing presence begin to wear down at his sanity again, the familiar sensation of primal, animalistic power burning inside of his chest, promising even more than he had already achieved. By the time he was on his feet, Andy was so tall that everyone he had invited barely even registered as more than a head of hair, huddling together as they attempting to rush to the few stairs placed strategically alongside the shore, hoping to get to the roads above before the fox utterly destroyed those as well. And yet with another growth spurt, Andy was well over a hundred feet in height, leaving those hopes dashed at about the same time as his nuts left two craters on the ground.
He could feel his control slipping away from him, muscles bulging out and his teeth lengthening as the transformation began to truly take hold of him; everything up until that point had been nothing but an appetizer, a prelude that normally only gave him about ten feet of extra height, not a hundred. That night though… that night he was going to show everyone what it was like to be a true giant. A true lycanthrope. A true god.
And then?
Well… then they’d just have to wait for the next full moon.
