Inhuman Instinct [Ze Blitzkrieg]

[Lazy Kitsune]

Name: Michael Thomas
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Human

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

The attachment is no longer available

Transformation

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Background:

Michael's life up until its most recent year has been completely, utterly devoid of note. The only child of an otherwise upstanding and prosperous middle class family from a small town out in the Midwest, his early years were uneventful. A mild-mannered and somewhat timid boy, he was never especially outgoing, never especially popular, preferring the solace of literature and computer games to the more active life of his outgoing friends and neighbors. His bookish streak carried on into his school years, and aided him in placing high amongst his classmates in academics. This academic success proved to be just the ticket to providing him an out to his otherwise very small world, with several out-of-state universities accepting his applications. Eager to try and break out of his shell and really turn the course of his otherwise mundane life, he chose the University of New Mexico as his future alma mater and traded in the frigid Midwestern winters for the scorching heat of the southeast.

College life was, of course, not much different. Moving across the country might have served a shock to his system, but Michael was no less the awkward young buck in the middle of Albuquerque than he had been in Des Moines. He made some friends, joined some clubs, enjoyed a little freedom out of the reach of his somewhat overbearing parents, but nothing especially exciting, nothing wild. Having majored in Mineralogy, with some passing interest in astronomy, it seemed an easy enough thing to join the university's Meteoritics department once he graduated. Studying meteors seemed pretty cool, after all, and it wasn't as though he had a particular passion for anything else. The choice to study objects from afar proved to be a most interesting one, however, as became obvious during his second year on the job.

Most meteorites burnt up in the atmosphere before ever touching the surface of the earth. Those that didn't, usually touched down far afield and had to be carefully obtained by the university's curation staff. When one happened to come down right over good old ABQ? It was as exciting a day as one got in a stuffy university laboratory dedicated to space rocks. First on the scene along with what few colleagues he had, Michael stumbled upon the rock as it crackled and sizzled off in a crater just a few miles away from town. While his co-workers went about setting up a perimeter, an uncharacteristic stroke of boldness led him down the crater site to get a closer look. And when he approached the strange, glossy rock within, his fate was irreparably changed when something dark and sinister burst from within. Before he knew it, the slimy creature had squirmed across the ground and bit him in the leg, vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared, the only evidence of its appearance being his startled cries. His co-workers, worried, found little in the area when investigated, and indeed, upon looking over his leg for signs of a snake bite, found nothing of the sort. They passed it off as a trick of the mind. Michael didn't have the courage to contest it. Perhaps, if he had, he might have diverted what fate had sent his way.

Once the strange rock had been studied, documented, and collected, Michael returned to his apartment as he did every night. He made his usual meal, watched his usual shows, lamented his usual regrets in the shower, then went to bed. Then the pain started. The burning, searing, sweat-inducing pain. It was horrible, violent, paralyzing. He couldn't so much as reached for his phone on the end table. Terror overtook him; it must have been the venom. He was dying. Nobody would know. Nobody would find him. He had so many regrets—so many things left to do! He had barely lived! It was all he could do to grip his sheets until they near enough tore, fighting the pain with all his might, until a voice, somewhere deep in his subconscious, whispered soothingly to him. 'Sleep,' it said, like a siren in his ear, 'Rest. You need it. All will be better if you rest'. He didn't have the strength to resist it, not with so much horrible pain. Maybe it was his guardian angel, trying to welcome him to the world beyond. It didn't much matter. Michael blacked out that night, for a long, long time, and when he came to... well, he had changed. Everything had changed.

Perks:
Academically Gifted: Though it never won him many victories in the social or romantic fields of battle, Michael is a gifted scholar. While his field of expertise lay in the physical sciences, he is also well versed in mathematics, biology, history, literature, and just about every other classical discipline one can glean from cracking a textbook or sitting in at a seminar. He's even got an underappreciated Masters to prove it!
Dark Passenger: Michael shares his body with an extraterrestrial symbiote, and while it usually lays dormant, when called to the surface the parasite suffuses him with its monstrous form, giving him incredible abilities. His hulking hybrid form instills him with incredible strength, durability, reflexes and speed, allows him to shift his body into strange and creative forms, instills him with senses beyond human reckoning and allows him to emit strange, potent chemical compounds to manipulate or otherwise incapacitate lesser beings. It is not an exaggeration to call the symbiote a one man army.
Enhanced Physiology: While not as pronounced as when he is transformed, the symbiotes bonding to Michael's body on a cellular level has enhanced many of his existing traits to the extreme. He is taller, stronger, faster and far more vigorous than he had been beforehand. Any asymmetries are evened out, his physical flaws erased, even his reproductive capabilities have been... enhanced, to a level beyond the scope of mundane humans. In all ways imaginable, the parasite made him better than he was before.
You're A Good Kid: Though he's led a life with all the boldness of a mouse, Michael is, for all appearances, a pretty good guy. He's polite and well-mannered, wears his humble heartlands upbringing on his sleeve and is always willing to go out of his way to offer a helping hand to those in need. It's built him a reputation as an honest, hard-working young man, and people are liable to take him at his word and trust him because of it.

Flaws:
Dark Urges: The symbiote that has given Michael so much in the way of enhancement isn't a charitable creature. It did not hand these boons over of its own volition. Its biology is such that it must find a host, must bond with them, and must continue its hive. A biological imperative to reproduce and create more of its kin is as much a part of Michael now as it is the creature inhabiting his body. If the symbiote does not feel the unique cocktail of endorphins, dopamine and oxytocin that accompany a good, hard rutting every few days, it begins to grow increasingly erratic, forcing Michael's thoughts to the depraved and erotic until he can't withstand it any more and takes the closest thing with a warm, inviting hole for a ride it'll never forget.
I'm So Sorry!: Put simply, Michael isn't the best at asserting himself. A life time of playing the good guy, and frankly, being a bit of a wimp has left him with a distinct lack in the willpower department. This wasn't the biggest issue, when he was just his usual, pushover self, but now, he shares his neurons with a non-human creature that has no such compunctions serving its own selfish desires. Sometimes, the symbiote will act without his consent, driving his body towards certain outcomes that satisfying its alien desires, leaving him to clean up the fallout that follows.
Invincible, Not Invulnerable: While the symbiote, called upon fully, might seem like an unstoppable force of nature, it has its drawbacks. The creature's senses are incredibly refined, and any especially intense sensory inputs can daze or otherwise frenzy the beast until it can acclimate, causing it to lash out of Michael's control. While its flesh is incredibly resilient in the face of most forms of conventional harm and regenerates quickly, it does possess a weakness to extreme heat, and will often recoil from sources of flame.
Turn Ons: Cock comparison, cock worship, cuckolding, domination, drunk/drugged sex, excessive cum, femboys, feminization, fucked silly, gentle femdom, group sex, harem, huge cock, humiliation, interracial, large insertions, marathon sex, MILFs, prostitution, rape, romance, sexual favors, sexual rewards, teasing, tentacles
Turn Offs: Gore, vore, pedo, scat, insects and arachnids

The cold sweat of your body causes your clothes and bedsheets to cling to you as you stir awake. A deep thrumming within your head accompanies the near searing feeling the light filtering in through your blinds causes as it seems to intensify around the edges of your vision as you blearily open your eyes. Your throat is dry enough to choke back your voice. Your ears are assaulted by noises, construction from outside, the thudding of footsteps and slammed doors in the apartments above, raised voices from somewhere else in the building. Even the vibrating of your phone against your bedside table sounds like it could be a jackhammer.

All these symptoms feel enough like a hangover from hell that you start to wonder if you hit the bottle heavily last night and just don't remember. Though as your muddled and overstimulated brain claws back pieces of memory all of these symptoms seem to withdraw on their own. Those sounds closing in around you withdraw. The light stops burning your eyes, dimming down to more reasonable levels. The throbbing sensation within your head subsides, and with it so do various aches across your body that you hadn't even noticed until they vanished. All that was left was your dry throat, and that now felt it could be quenched quite easily with a glass of water.

If anything, you now felt great. More awake and lively than you usually do in the mornings. You were hungry... starving in fact. Did you not have enough to eat last night? But you certainly weren't lacking in energy. And with your senses no longer being affronted as they were you felt you could see around your room quite clearly given the state of darkness you were in. Very clearly in fact... You could make out the details of the strips of peeling paint on the far wall from your bed. Something you wouldn't ordinarily be able to do in the light if you didn't have your glasses on.

Rising from the bed enough for your sweat soaked sheets to peel off of your top, you can now see the state of yourself more clearly. You looked like you had sweat enough to drench yourself twice over. How could your body possibly produce this much moisture? No wonder you're parched, but quite frankly you should be mummified. But that's not all you notice. As wet as your top is, it clings quite tightly to your body. Too tightly, it might be a little snug. Your body had bulked up, with even the lean musculature you had gained being enough to broaden you out a bit from your usual, meek physique. You looked fit enough to be an athlete or movie star.

Before you could dwell on this further, a gurgling within your stomach draws your attention. The hunger you felt would not be ignored any longer. Your body lurched up practically on its own and instinct seemed to drive you to your kitchen. You weren't heavily stocked, but you had enough in your fridge to tear through to satiate yourself, grabbing whatever caught your eye that you could consume right away. You even tore open and drained a carton of milk. Each piece of sustenance eased the aching within your belly, but also brought with it a bounty of flavours. You swear food didn't taste this... much... before. After plundering most of your fridge's contents, you find your hunger sated enough for you to focus on other matters once again. In time to hear your phone buzz once more.

A text, this time, rather than the call you just missed earlier while you were dealing with your excruciating yet equally brief mystery hangover. It seems the university had tried to call you a couple of times. And Maggie had sent you some messages and voicemails. A few of your other colleagues have sent a text or two as well, but Maggie seems to have sent the most. Quite a few actually. What could have her chasing you up so much, you only just saw her last...

Fuck!

The date on your phone... that can't possibly be right... But according to this you've been sleeping for three whole days!

A cursory look through your texts confirms this.

"Hey, where are you?"

"Everyone's been asking about you. I can cover for you, but you should probably call to check in yourself."

"Came by your place earlier but you weren't home. You okay?"

"Getting really worried now. Please pick up."

And then the last one. "I'm going to call the police now. If you don't want me to, please respond now."

And right on cue, you hear a firm knock on the your front door and a stern woman's voice carry through.

"Albuquerque PD. Is everyone alright in there? We've heard reports of strange and potentially violent noises from inside. Open up, we'd like to ask a few questions."

Strange and potentially violent noises? So this wasn't in response to Maggie reporting you as being missing. Whatever the hell was going on, the heavy knocking on your front door indicated you probably didn't have too much time to figure it out right now.

---

Your friend and co-worker: Maggie Walters

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

It was not until those few knocks struck the exterior of Michael's door that everything up until that moment—the cacophony of the morning, the muddled thoughts, the ravenous hunger—seemed to release him from his confusion. And once he was so released from the chaos of the morning and the bizarre happenings that occupied it, he found himself swept up utterly in a brand new and equally unhelpful emotion.

Panic.

What the hell was he supposed to do?! The police had never come to his apartment before! The closest he had ever been to being in trouble with the law were the occasional traffic stops! And why did it have to be now of all times?! Something was seriously wrong, that was true, but until he could get his wits about him, retrace the last few days, and figure out just what had led him to lay drenched in sweat on his mattress like a dying man for seventy-two whole hours, he didn't want to talk with the police! He hadn't the foggiest idea of what to even say.

As he huffed and puffed in his worry, the phone still in his palm brought him some level of solace, in that it gave his swirling thoughts something to focus on. Maggie had been trying, in vain, to get ahold of him for several days. He at least needed to offer her an explanation, before she made good on her threat and sent a second police cruiser his way before he even got the first one to leave. Anxious and befuddled he may have been, but he was still a clever enough man. He just needed to give her an excuse, any excuse at all. Sickness? It wasn't exactly a lie. He felt better now, much better, but when his eyes peeled open he felt as close to death's door as he had ever known. Deft fingers went to work on the touchscreen of his phone as he made for the door, worried the officer outside might decide to escalate if he wasn't swift in his response.

'Sorry. Got really sick. Think it's food poisoning. Just now feeling well enough to move. Call you later.`

Yeah. That was plausible, wasn't it? Really bad food poisoning. Being stuck between the bathroom and the bed, and any... violent... noises were easily explained as him getting sick over the last few days. Nobody wanted to pry too far into the sort of business that unfolded between a man and his toilet in that context.

Running over the story in his head a few times, he nodded to himself, hoping to instill some level of confidence, before he slipped his phone into his pocket and reached to crack the door open, forgetting entirely that he had just about stripped down to his skivvies in his efforts to be rid of his sweat-drenched clothes.

"Uhm, hello, officer. Sorry about the noise, I've been sick as a dog the last few days. Shouldn't have trusted shellfish this far inland, haha..."

[Lazy Kitsune]

You open the door to two figures. The nearer one must be the source of the voice you heard - unless the large, middle aged man behind her sounded much more effeminate than you would expect. She was blonde, looked close to your own age, and the rather stern look on her face immediately softens into a look surprise and embarrassment. The older gentleman behind her - more pudgy sort with thinning brown hair and jowls that sagged enough to leave him reminiscent of a bulldog, seemed more tired about the whole ordeal, idly glancing down the hallway with disinterest, before he too turns to look at you with some disbelief of his own.

Though it was hard to focus on him at all with the blonde beauty before you. Even dressed in her uniform, you felt like you could make out all the details of her shapeliness. Her skin looked soft, warm... you imagined it would be really nice to caress, to kiss. Fuck, and that ponytail she had her hair done up in... looked perfect to hold as you pushed her head down on your cock, or to pull on as you pounded into her fit ass from behind. Maybe she'd let you put her in her handcuffs and just spend all day...

The woman clears her throat, drawing your attention back to reality and away from your sudden and bizarrely intense fantasy. Her eyes seem to be affixed downwards for a moment, but she pulls them away and seems to be make a conscious effort to look up to try and meet your eye level. This behaviour is enough to call your own state of undress to your attention... and another problem that adds to all the awkwardness that comes with that. Your body, glistening with sweat as it was, was nothing to be ashamed off right now. You looked the fittest you had ever done in your life. But in the moments since opening the door and seeing the police woman before you, a certain part of you anatomy had made itself known. Far more... impressively and vigorously than it ever had before. Your cock stood hard enough to strain at the fabric of your underwear. If it got any stiffer it might rip its way out.

"Sir, are you alright? Is there anyone else here?" she asks, doing her very best to look you in the eyes.

"Sweet Jesus." the guy behind her murmurs quietly to himself, before turning to look down the hallway. He leans in sideways to whisper to the other officer. "I think he might have taken something. And I think whatever pills he took might have had a Viagra mixed in with them."

The blonde office ignores her partner for the moment, instead focusing on you. "Do you feel like you need to go to the hospital? We can escort you if you'd like."

---

The Police Officer

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

The idea that Michael had in his head of the police was, probably, not too different from what many young men from the suburbs had of them. Middle-aged men with big, bushy mustaches and aviators, who show up only to settle the occasional family dispute or otherwise camp outside the local Dunkin Donuts. His general confusion, therefore, was not especially helped by the sight which greeted him at the door. Sure, the older gentleman behind the woman who had called him to the door might have fit his general internal ideal of ABQ PD, but he couldn't even feign to have noticed anything about the man in the presence of his partner. Michael couldn't help but gawk a little as he took her in.

She was... pretty. Really, really pretty. And not just pretty but also... ridiculously sexy. He felt like he could make out every inch of her body beneath that uniform, every womanly curve, from her long, athletic legs, to the swell of the wide hips beneath her belt, the flat, fit tummy just above it, her big, shapely, wonderfully full breasts, the delicate contrast of her collarbone. Her soft skin, her silky hair, her sharp, authoritative eyes... He swallowed on instinct, trying to wet a throat that very suddenly felt dry. She was gorgeous. Everything about her was gorgeous. Even the subtle scent that drifted between the two of them—was it even perfume?—seemed to titillate him. He could practically taste her from where he stood. And he really, really liked what he tasted.

As his mind wandered to all the things he'd like to do to this bombshell of a blonde on his doorstep, his body responded in the only natural way to such stimuli. He scarcely noticed his sweat-damp boxers getting so tight as to nearly burst. Until the officer cleared her throat and very acutely affixed her gaze to his stunned face. A glance downwards to see what had startled her so served to jolt him out of his lust-drunk stupor, and he could feel his face fill with hot blood at the sight of him sporting a stiffy in front of the poor woman—a stiffy she most certainly understood to be because of her presence. He barely even had time to register the scale of the mountainous bulge before reflexes took over and he ducked himself to the side to hide it away, his head sheepishly peaking around the corner of the door.

"It's just me! And, I, I'm fine, officer, really," It was pretty hard to sound convincing, given how frazzled he was, but he tried his level best, "I'm starting to feel better, today, so I was going to try and catch up on some work I've missed. No need for, ah, the hospital."

A sudden pop followed by a distinctive thunk against the door, as the valiant button on his boxes failed under the strain of his member and significantly more cock than they were used to supporting came springing out against it. That was going to need some tending. Some serious tending.

"Are we, ah, good to go? I don't want to trouble you guys any more than I already have."

[Lazy Kitsune]

The police woman certainly seems more than a little disorientated by this situation. No doubt you must be quite the bizarre call to have to deal with early in the morning. She seems conflicted about leaving you in this state, clearly concerned for your welfare despite how thrown she's been by your appearance and... other things... Her partner on the other hand seems prepared to leave you be at this juncture, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Sounds like it's just a false alarm. We'll put it all in our report when we get back." he says, before beckoning her closer to whisper the rest of his thoughts - though not nearly quietly enough as you can still clearly hear what he says. "He's obviously coming down from a trip. Probably on steroids and all sorts too. But we don't have any probable cause, and no one's gotten hurt. So we leave this one be. Put a note in the system so if anything else flags up Vice will know about it. Come on, we're just wasting our time out here."

Whether or not she agrees with her partner's assessment remains unsaid, but she seems to concede that there's not really much else she's able to do right now if you don't want to talk. "Alright Sir, we'll go. But if there's anything you need help with, you really should let us know now." she says, leaving you a moment to respond before her and her partner take their leave.

You overhear more of their conversation as they leave, the man continuing to talk. "You've got to keep in mind, there's a lot of weirdos around here. Absolute nut jobs. I know you're used to more upscale neighbourhoods, but hey, at least we're not dealing with..."

He continues to talk as he leaves your earshot, leaving you alone in your apartment once again... and able to take in the full size of your cock now currently slapped against your door and leaving a sizeable dollop of precum against it in tribute to the officer who just left.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Mortifying. Absolutely, ridiculously mortifying. It was bad enough having the police come all the way out to his apartment in the first place, even worse than he nearly flashed a poor officer, and now they were going to put him on some kind of record?! With Vice?! Weren't those the drug people? He hadn't taken anything harder than Tylenol since that house party back in Des Moines, and even then, the cookies were supposed to just be chocolate chip!

It took a great deal of willpower not to fly out the door and try explaining all that to the retreating officers, willpower bolstered only by the fact that he was just about completely nude now. Closing the door tight and sliding the locks back into place, Michael stared down in amazement at the endowment that sprouted so vigorously between his legs. It was... not like that a few days ago. It was definitely not like that a few days ago. How in the world was he even hard?! It looked big enough to split wood with! As long as his forearm, at least! He didn't even know how he had enough blood to keep it throbbing like that!

His thoughts stirred as he stared slackjawed down at it, trying to make sense of things. People didn't just suddenly sprout cocks big enough to make pornstars feel inadequate overnight. Something was going on. Maybe the police were right? Maybe he had accidentally taken something? Maybe he was hallucinating it all... for closure, he made his way to the bathroom, as difficult as trying to walk with his new endowment was. At one point, he ditched the boxers too for the sake of comfort.

The man who greeted him in the mirror was not the same one he remembered seeing before his... episode. Sure, he looked like himself, well enough. But things were different. Putting aside the giant schlong poking up above the sink, his body was different too—way more muscular than it had been. He ran his hands over his chest and stomach exploratorily, feeling the muscle beneath his skin, the hardness of it as he experimentally clenched here or there. He looked like one of those action stars in the superhero movies! No drug on earth could take you from a skinny nobody to a rippling Adonis in the span of half a week. If there was, most of the big CEOs wouldn't look so flabby. It wasn't just his body, either. His face seemed more... well, it kinda hurt to say handsome, but it looked more defined. More even, maybe? And his hair seemed thicker too. His eyes weren't super dilated... at least he could cross doping off the list of possibilities.

But what else could it have been? Having been going through crisis after crisis since his eyes opened, Michael hadn't had the time to comb through his memories, sparse as they were. He thought back to before everything happened before he was bedbound. It was Monday, he was pretty sure. Usual day at the office. A call came in from a rancher not far from the city. Something fell from the sky. A meteor! An honest-to-goodness meteor, right there in New Mexico. They went out to pick up the specimen. It was dark by the time they got out there... and something bit him! He thought it was a snake at the time, something serpentine, but he couldn't find it with his flashlight. A few of the other university folks looked him over and couldn't find any bite marks. No swelling, no rash, they had brushed him off as being overly spooked by something in the undergrowth. Eventually, he convinced himself of the same.

But that didn't make any sense... how would a snake bite do all... well... all of what he was looking at in the mirror? Maybe it wasn't drugs. Maybe he was having some kind of psychosis. Maybe it was better if he went down to the hospital. Not with the police, of course, he didn't need the mortification of being escorted into the emergency department in cuffs. But he could... he could gather himself, and head down for a check-up. Just to make sure everything was okay. Slapping himself on the cheeks, he left the bathroom to retrieve his phone. Maggy had been worried about him, he remembered, and he had given her a pretty convincing excuse in food poisoning. Maybe he could get her to accompany him? If he was having some kind of hallucinatory episode, it probably wasn't safe to be driving around by himself.

'Still think I'm a little wobbly. Where are you now? I'm thinking of going down to the hospital to get checked out. Was hoping you might drive me, just in case.'

He felt terrible to impose on her like that, but given the circumstances, there weren't that many people he could turn to. His folks were thousands of miles away back home, most of his friends were pretty surface level here in New Mexico, and his cousin... well, she was liable to just leave him on read regardless of how important the issue was. Better to trust Maggy.

And before he could face Maggy, he would need to face his body's... reaction... to the officer. Hallucination or not, popping a boner in front of a co-worker was a quick way to get him kicked off the university staff. Figuring a shower would be good, the frazzled geologist nabbed a towel from his closet and headed back to the bathroom to try and wash the filth of the week off him and hopefully wrangle the bitch-breaker between his thighs into compliance.

[Lazy Kitsune]

Mercifully, it doesn't take long for Maggie to respond, confirming that she'd come over right away.

'Of course. I can get to yours right away. You stay right there!'

Your own body, if you could still call it that, proved far less compliant. Your cock wanted to make itself known, and in all your efforts to calm yourself, you just found your thoughts drifting back to the police officer and how much nicer this shower would be if you were sharing it with her. Your cock certainly didn't feel like a hallucination. Taking a hold of it let you know that every inch of it could feel pleasure just as vividly as it could before. The touch of the cold water only starts to help when you lower the temperature enough to chill your body, and even then your cock still seems to demand a certain degree of stiffness, remaining half erect as it swings between your legs with mighty weight.

Are you defective?

The voice beckons the uncomfortable throbbing from within your brain that you felt this morning, like something pressed against the inside of your forehead for a few moments in order to get your attention. It dulled the sound of the shower as if there was something covering your ears for a few seconds before the sensation passes. Whatever you just heard, it doesn't make itself known again. Your shower proceeds about as normal as it can at this point and you wash away days worth of sweat and stench. Your cock had at least calmed itself enough to be able to be tucked away in some underwear, though you may need to go shopping for more if erections are going to literally tear open the size you currently own.

It doesn't take too long for you to hear a gentle knock at your front door, shortly followed by Maggie's voice. For as composed as her text messages are, she's not nearly as good at in person communication. "Uh- uhm, uh... M-Michael. Are you there? I g-got your message. Is everything okay? Do you need my help with anything? W-we can go to the hospital now... if you want... or I guess... if you need to."

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

For as restorative as the shower had felt, Michael couldn't shake the feeling of unease he felt. It wasn't exactly like being horny was foreign to him. He was still an otherwise healthy young man, after all. A healthy young man in his prime. He had known plenty of desire in his days. But the reaction he had to the police officer; it was like all he could think about was how good it would've felt to have invited her in and absolutely went to town on her. It took a while under the cold water to try and stamp down on his libido, and he almost started to feel a little better towards the end of it. Until he started hearing voices. Or, well, one voice. But not his own voice. That made the panic start all over again.

"Okay, okay, maybe you're... maybe you're a little off kilter. Not defective! Just... a little off your game. Maybe the snake had some kind of psychoactive venom. Maybe they'll know something. You just gotta get dressed and get ready..."

Muttering to himself madly was probably not the best sign of stability, but in the privacy of his own home, he could collect himself. A quick toweling off saw him outside his closet and therein lay the second problem. Most of his clothes didn't seem like they'd quite fit. Certainly not his work clothes. Poor scholar though he was, he had spent a fair amount of money making sure he had a suitable wardrobe of dressy clothes that suited his slim frame. And now that his frame wasn't exactly slim... he really hoped he was hallucinating. It would be terribly expensive to buy all new clothes to fit his new body, if it was how he truly looked. Deciding, in his hurry, to throw on the baggiest clothes he had, the ones he typically put on when he was too lazy to actually dress properly, he slipped himself into them just in time to hear the front door. Hopefully whatever was wrong with him could be concealed beneath sweats and a hoodie, though even pulling them on he felt as though he had certainly filled out what was otherwise loose.

"Coming! I'm coming, just, just give me a minute."

He was getting nervous again. Horribly nervous. Maggie was just about the only person he knew who seemed to look out for him. Hopefully, nothing weird would happen when he saw her. The police officer had been strange, but... he could pass that off as her being especially pretty. Not that Maggie wasn't pretty, of course—he did think she was pretty. Quite pretty, even. But not in the same way as the officer, of course. He hadn't fantasized about her. Not too much. Not more than normal, anyway. Feeling himself grow all the more muddled, he shook his head and combed a few fingers through his still-damp hair before reaching for the door and opening it. Better to face the noise than ruminate on it all afternoon, especially with someone waiting for him just on the other side.

"Uh, hey, Maggie. Sorry to call you over like this. It's been... it's been a lot, these last few days."

[Lazy Kitsune]

Dressed as well as you can under the circumstances, its time to face Maggie. With yourself as put together as you can manage, it should be a simple matter of keeping focused enough so that she can help you get to the hospital without any further distractions.

She would look great pinned against that wall behind her. Her glasses askew as you pounded absolute bliss into those pretty green eyes of hers. You bet she feels tight. Tight as a virgin perhaps. Fuck, and she won't need to worry about stumbling over her words if she's gagging on your cock. And that sweater of hers... it really hugs her tits quite nicely now that you think about it. People probably overlook her tits because of how meek she is, but they would look wonderful covered in your cum. You could probably just push her onto her knees and smack her in the face with your cock and she'd be yours.

Like that, you're rock hard again. To make matters worse, you were so deeply fantasising about her, you didn't even notice what she had just said to you. You're still fantasising about her, but at least now you can focus enough to pay attention. She seems to notice something is off and leans in closer, pressing a hand to your forehead after a moment's hesitation to check your temperature.

"A-are you okay? Do you need to lie down?"

You need to lie her down. You can practically feel it... smell it... she wants you. Her eyes can't get enough of you. Take her already, before I take her myself.

The throbbing sensation returns to your head, but its nothing compared to the throbbing sensation within your pants. Whatever this was, it was becoming increasingly clear that it was more than just a hallucination. By now the need to fuck was growing so intense, it was almost rivalling the cravings you felt this morning that forced you to raid your fridge. If it was you... As if in answer to these thoughts, you hear that voice again. Improvements were made. You needed sustenance to compensate. I provided. Why do you hesitate claiming this female? She desires to be your mate. Are you defective? I have made improvements. All aspects of your form should function beyond expectations.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

It was like the moment the door opened, a switch flipped in Michael's head. He had worked with Maggie for years now, known her for even longer. They had studied together, eaten together, and spent time together for almost as long as he had been in Albuquerque. Sure, he had maybe... noticed her, before, in a certain light. Found himself a little flustered when she'd wear one of those tight sweaters, or let her hair down after a long night cataloging specimens. Pondered, maybe, whether or not she knew the effect that kinda thing had on a man like him. He always thought the better of it and always brushed those thoughts aside. She was being friendly, he'd tell himself, whenever she'd get a little touchy with him. He was being a pervert, he'd scold, whenever his eyes lingered on her chest. They weren't like that. It wasn't right.

Laying eyes on her now, all he could think of was just how right it would feel to throw her on her back, mount her like an animal in heat, and plow her until she couldn't see or think straight. It was like there was a fire in his veins, creeping up inside him, causing him to sweat even as he felt his pants growing uncomfortably packed with the proof of his arousal. That kind of heat, that kind of lust felt simultaneously natural and unnatural. Correct and alien. He snapped his eyes closed to try and fight for composure.

Then, the voice, again. The pressure. He'd never heard that kind of voice before. It was urging him on, insisting he do things. Why was it talking to him? Why was it talking like it was something else? Inner monologues weren't supposed to be like that. It felt like something else. Something not right. Maggie's gentle touch stirred him.

"I... I'm not sure."

He managed to mutter, pondering, thinking, trying to wrestle control of his senses back. The voice had said something sinister—said it'd take Maggie—and that scared him. Scared him because he wasn't sure whether or not it would even be something else taking her. It felt like... on some level, anyway, it felt like it would be him. He didn't want that.

Well, at least not in that way. It was undeniable to him that he did want Maggie. He wanted her bad. Like every fiber of his being cried out for him to throw open her legs and make her his woman. Make her his mate. Maybe... maybe he could try and settle that a little. She... she wanted him, didn't she? The look in her eyes... the concern wasn't the only thing there. She must have noticed the difference in him. How he was changed. Better. She wanted to explore it too. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to cave... just fool around a little. They were adults. There was nothing wrong with enjoying each other's company. Especially if doing so would ease the heat, the fucking pressure inside him. He swallowed again.

"I think... I need to sit down. Come... come with me, would you? I feel a little unsteady on my feet."

Guilt assailed him, but another, more primal part of him cried out in delight. The mere thought of having her soft, delicate body against his, feeling her skin, breathing her scent... Once she was inside, once they were alone, he could tell her what was going on. What was happening. What he needed from her. And she'd listen. Maggie always listened. He'd be good to her. Reward her for it. She wanted it anyway. Wanted him. Deserved him! How long had she waited for this? How eager would she be to finally have it? He'd make up for lost time. He'd make her his.

[Lazy Kitsune]

As you make your decision you feel a different sensation within you. Not the uncomfortable throbbing from before, but a satisfaction. Like you were finally starting to scratch an itch you didn't know you had. You feel a rush that accompanies the excitement you might already be feeling when it comes to the chance to finally get your hands on Maggie's naked body.

She looks up at you with wide and worried eyes, her hand moving from your forehead to your cheek before pulling back as she gives you a nod. "You are hot. I mean... your skin. You feel hot." she says as she follows you into your apartment. As the door closes behind her, she seems to sink her head down in discomfort, her hands reaching up towards her face before she stops them and instead leaves them uncertainly hanging in front of her chest. "Um... maybe we should open a window. Its quite stale in here, some fresh air might help. Also its a bit dark..." she says.

She's not wrong about the air, though you get the sense its the smell that's bothering her the most. Three days sweating in a bed is going to leave a bit of a heavy odour around the place even after your shower... though what she might be smelling most of all is the thick wad of precum you left smeared against your front door after your encounter with the police officer that morning - a wad which she fortunately hadn't noticed when coming in.

She's beginning to react. She senses the marks of a potent mate. Her body will desire you, expose her to more.

The voice in your head returns, though this time the throbbing that accompanies it isn't as intense. Perhaps its trying to be nicer seeing as you seem to want the same thing - Maggie. Or maybe it is simply learning how to communicate with you more comfortably.

"Why don't you sit yourself down. I can get you some water and we... we'll make sure you get better, okay?" she says, her voice as chipper and sweet as ever, even with her shy, uncertain tone.

Her cheeks, see how they flush. Her breathing is growing deeper. Her body reacts to your presence alone. Additional pheromone influence will guarantee her as your mate.

The voice doesn't seem to want to explain more than that, leaving you to decide how you wanted to handle Maggie. Though if it was real somehow... more than just a hallucination... then did that mean just by smelling you she would get hornier... want you more? Or was there more to it? Something you had to do to influence her like that? Though the comments the voice made about her cheeks and her breathing were true. You could see it yourself now that it had been pointed out. Its like you could examine her in extra detail... see the most minor of expressions that flitted across her face as she looked at you. You can almost feel her body reacting to yours from a few steps away.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Everything was muddled. Everything. Even Michael's thoughts felt like they were trying to swim through a thick soup of lust and confusion. And then there was the added complication of that voice. Whatever it was, it almost seemed pleased by the filthy thoughts filling his head. Like it approved of the feelings he had towards Maggie. The way she seemed so concerned for him only made the guilt flare up all the more. She was being sweet, and helpful, and there he was, practically luring her into his apartment so he could... he could mate with her. It felt incredibly wrong. Morally, anyway. But on a baser level, it also felt incredibly right. What worried him most was how convincing the latter proved when compared to the former.

In absolutely no state to offer much in the way of resistance, Michael simply nodded his head to Maggie's gentle urging. The voice in his head seemed to almost whisper into his ear, telling him how to bend his co-worker to his desires, if they were even still his desires at that point. What was worse, it didn't exactly seem wrong. Maggie seemed... flustered, herself. Receptive, maybe. He struggled forward toward the couch, doing his best to conceal his arousal as he did so.

"Yeah... get me some water... I'll get this sweatshirt off," He murmured, loud enough to be heard from further in the living room, "I didn't realize how hot I was until now..."

However sluggish his mind might have felt in its reasoning, at least his body was responding well enough. His fingers slipped easily enough under the sweatshirt he had so gingerly put on, peeling it up and off his body until it slung ingloriously across the coffee table. He had tried to slide a t-shirt on beneath it, but given the increase in muscle mass that had appeared throughout his half-a-week sleep, it was stretched near enough to its breaking point trying to cover him, leaving very little to the imagination beneath it. Part of him couldn't help but wonder whether Maggie would appreciate that. The thought of being desired by her as she was by him was titillating, to say the least.

"Maggie... could you come and sit with me for a little? I... I missed you."

It wasn't exactly a lie, all things considered, and it certainly seemed that she had been worried out of her wits if his call history was anything to go by. It also went without saying that if she were to join him on the couch, she'd be more than close enough to enjoy his... scent... as the voice indicated she might. And then things could progress in such a way as to finally clear up that red hazy of need that seemed to undermine his every thought and action, regardless of how hard he fought back against it.

[Lazy Kitsune]

Maggie leaves your sight for a moment as you remove your sweatshirt. You hear her humming to herself, a habit you've learned helps her keep calm and stay focused, as she rummages through your cupboard to get a glass for you. A few moments later you hear a tap running and she starts to come back with a glass of water for you. Her footsteps pause as she hears what you next have to say, but a beat later she responds.

"Oh... Of course! I'll be right over." she says, returning to the room, quietly murmuring out "I missed you too... OH!"

Her eyes widen behind her glasses once more and the sudden stop in her approach causes the glass to jostle in her hands. With the way she seemed to be cradling it with both palms, there was little risk of it dropping, though some of the water spilled out of the rim from the sudden motion before she corrects it. Her mouth hangs open, her cute lips quivering slightly as she looks across the defined muscles that show off even through your top. She shakes her head to bring back her focus, humming again a little more determinedly, although it does nothing to dull the redness that now fills her cheeks.

She makes her way over beside you, sitting down as she casts her gaze to her feet, taking a few moments to remember to hand you your glass of water.

"Ah, here." she says, holding it out to you like a precious gift as she struggles with deciding how close she should be sitting to you. "H-have you been working out?" she asks, clearly trying to wrap her mind around how you looked. Its not like she had seen you naked, though she had certainly seen you around in general enough to have a clear idea of what your body's silhouette should look like. Though the undeniable evidence to the contrary seems to be having her second guessing herself.

"You look... really fit. I didn't think you.... uh, not that I thought you were unhealthy or anything. Although you are sick, but that's... not relevant. I just didn't think you were the sporty type. Um, sorry, this is all coming out wrong. What I'm trying to say is you look good. Not that you didn't before, just... if you're going to the gym, its paying off so... uh... good job. I'm not good at this, ah I'm sorry. How are you feeling now? A little more steady?"

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

It was almost comforting to see Maggie as flustered and lost for words as he was. Granted, flustered wasn't exactly the word Michael would use to describe his current predicament. More like... horny and conflicted. If anything, he felt like the shackles of embarrassment would come off quite quickly if he just forgot himself—forgot about his history with Maggie, and how much he thought of her—and just gave in to his worst impulses. A conflict certainly didn't help that those impulses seemed to have a voice all their own now. His eyes clung to his co-worker's silhouette as she came wandering over to join him on the couch, clearly as startled by the sudden shift in his appearance as he himself had been. He'd need to think of something to justify it, but deception never came easily to him. He'd just need to blurt out something plausible and hope that the atmosphere carried the day.

"I think it might have been all the sweat... Probably pretty dehydrated right now," He offered her what might've otherwise been a fairly sheepish smile, though given how he found himself looking at her, it might as well have been more wolfish than anything else, "I'm glad you like it, though. Really. Your opinion... means a lot."

His heart all but pounded through his chest as he considered what to do next. It was hard to even consider things; with his senses as heightened as they were, just being near Maggie set his mind alight. He could practically feel the warmth on her skin, made worse by the flush just beneath it. Her quick, unsteady breaths, trying to keep calm, and the subtle smell of sweat only seemed to egg him on. He wanted to get closer to her. To really feel her. And it didn't take long before he was reaching over the space between them to put his hand over her own. The softness of it nearly sent him spiraling.

"I really appreciate you always looking out for me, Maggie. I realize I haven't had the chance to say that enough. And I know it isn't just because you're a nice girl—it's because you like me, don't you?"

In truth, he had simply thought it was because she was sweet. The idea that she might've held some feeling for him beyond the platonic went right over his head, such was his opinion of himself. Yet it was hard to deny that she must have had something burning within her, feeling her pulse under his touch. He could practically taste the arousal on her, and it did no favors in tamping down his sudden boldness.

"I like that. I like that you like me, and care about me, and maybe want something more. I want that too," It almost felt like the words weren't his own, so unlike him it was, but he pushed on if only to assure himself that it was him talking, "And... I'd like that too. A lot. Honestly, ever since I've started feeling better, I've had a bit of a problem."

Though the hand atop Maggie's kept its usual pace, stroking her skin thoughtfully with its thumb, his other hand was quick to reach down and dip into his waistband. It was the sort of thing that would have beggared belief under any other circumstance, something that would've gotten him put onto some kind of list or another, but at the moment, nothing felt more natural. A quick flick of his wrist pulled it open, and he tugged it down just enough for the unnaturally girthy shaft swelling within to flop out and clap against his abdomen. The head throbbed even as he spoke, drooling a strand of pre that seemed almost too thick to dribble.

"It just won't go down. It's like I want... no, like I need to let it out. It's really uncomfortable, Maggie, and I think we'd both like it a lot if you helped me out with it."