You had no idea how a single room could contain so much space, but you knew that it all had to be contained in a single room. You had entered the Transformation Foundation in the heart of the city, after all. There was simply no way that you’d somehow exited outdoors into some forest in the middle of nowhere, yet I knew from the way you acted that you gave the notion quite a bit of consideration for the first stretch of the hike. It wasn’t until we passed well beyond a mile’s distance that you gave up the ghost on that front.
I’m quite certain that you hadn’t expected this experience when you requested a transformation to become “more beefy.” Your first series of questions was as to whether this was some sort of endurance training or if there wasn’t a better way of doing this. You explained that you had expected something much more fast-acting. If you’d wanted anything like this, you would’ve just gone out hiking yourself. You were quite impatient, but I advised that you allow yourself to enjoy the walk. To be fair, it was a lovely day outside, albeit still within the confines of the room, and the scenery from the trail was quite lovely. The flora and fauna was like none you had ever seen before, all of the plants bearing an exotic and colorful nature that you weren’t used to.
Most eye catching were the large, plump berries that hung from a number of bushes along the trek. The fruits were a bright orange color, and every one of them were about the size of your fist. You hadn’t eaten anything since you had begun walking the lengthy trail, and your stomach growled to see such a juicy morsel so close within reach. It came to the point that you boisterous belly grew to be loud enough for even me to hear, and I suggested that you might sample some of the berries along the trail. You needed no further provocation. I turned around to see you viciously attack a nearby bush before greedily plucking a berry out in each hand. You devoured both berries in under a minute and even went for one more before we continued.
Your hunger sated, you became much more talkative again and asked what our purpose here was. I answered by explaining that this room was an interesting experiment into horticultural resurrection. Often scientists were concerned by the protection of endangered animals and various extinct species, but people gave little thought to the wonderful plants of yesteryear. We had decided to see what would happen in recreating the environment in which prehistoric plants had thrived and genetically altering vegetation to physically regress and explore their ancestral roots, so to speak. The project was an amazing success. All of the plants devolved into perfect replicas of their former geni, though there were some interesting additions. Some varieties kept their present day mutations while combining them to their historic forms in an attempt to expel the genetic dissonance within their coding. Some grew thorns, some grew flowers, and some grew fruit like the ones you ate.
You appeared startled to learn that you were essentially biting into a science experiment in the making and spat out the pulpy juice that remained from you latest mouthful. You looked down at the fruit in your hand in disturbed fascination, unsure of what to make of the situation. You nervously asked if eating the fruit was safe, and I answered that you’d be perfectly fine, improved in fact. Your mind grew foggy just after you asked for clarification. I watched your eyes begin to glaze over as the first of your many physical changes occured. I explained that your loss of concentration made sense considering that you were probably losing dozens of brain cells a second as the hardened, primal end of your brain grew to swallow the front, but you weren’t paying attention to your loss of brain power or what I was saying at that point.
You dropped the berries as you stared awestruck at your hands and arms as they grew a thick pelt of animalistic hair. You’d never seen a man that hairy before, nor had you seen a man grow hair as quickly as you just had. I mused as to how you might react if you had been able to see the incident from my point of view. You might have been surprised to see the thick hair spread from your arms spread until it disappeared beneath your t-shirt, only to reappear above the neckline and on your face in the form of a blossoming beard and mustache. You looked more like a sasquatch instead of a normal human being after a point, and your dazed expression only served to reinforce the image. Despite the peculiar change occurring unanimously upon your body, you only continued to inspect your hands like an infant regarding its toes.
Your increasingly simple mind was so singularly focused on your hairy digits that you didn’t even notice that your posture had begun to bend and bow. You no longer stood with the dignified, commanding posture that you had greeted me with at the front desk. You now primally slouched over the objects of your fascination like a monkey craned over to inspect a banana. It wasn’t until you bent yet further forward that a rip rung out, and your shirt gave away. While your body bowed forward, your torso had been expanding at a considerable rate, and now that you slouched before me bare chested, it was easy to see why. Your body was a bulging, sinewy series of muscles that rippled with animalistic strength. Every inch of your chest was a hardened, masculinenslate bearing a thick matting of jet black hair, and it wasn’t long before your arms began to show the same effect, your biceps filling out to obscene proportions beneath an extenuating layer of fur.
You drooled dumbly, a majority of intelligence clearly gone, while these changes occurred. You regarded the half-eaten fruit at your feet as if you hadn’t been the one to drop it just moments before. You must have decided that it looked good enough to eat as your bent-over form squatted to pick it up. Another ripping sound could be heard and your pants joined your shirt in ejecting from your person under the intense pressure of your newly muscular and equally hairy legs, but in an interesting twist, your then skin-tight boxers failed to bear the strain as well. Above the shredded remains of your civilized clothing draped a sizable male appendage now dangling out of a sizable bush of curly hair between your legs. I don’t pretend to assume what size your particulars were before we met, but that day your cock was easily the size of a healthy cucumber. I admit to it being more than a little alluring to watch dangling between your furry thighs as you chomped away at the remains of your previously discarded morsel.
It wasn’t until you had greedily scarfed down the remains of your scavenger’s meal that your dull eyes regarded me. A grunt left your lips as you began to rise into your previous hunched stance. The intricacies of human speech had clearly long since left your mind, but the lustful moan that followed made your intentions clear. The impressive girth between your legs began to stir, and I watched with a bemused smile to see you completely unabashed as you bore your erect cock before me with dominant, masculine gusto. You even slightly thrusted your impressive arousal towards me as if to point towards what was on your mind, though I simply appreciate the opportunity to watch your equally impressive and hairy set of testicles swing to and fro. A smug smile stole across your face after performing the gesture, and you even crossed your arms, as if you were simply waiting for me to strip down and present myself to the dominant primate present. I chuckled at the notion.
It’s possible that I might have refused…
Image source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/72487177@N00/43004553292