MaXXXed out

by Now Voyager   

A cocky guy named Max visits a spa on the edge of town run by gorgeous women. But when he finds himself strapped into a transformative massage chair, he pays for his disrespectful flirting with his body. 

Max shook his head as he clambered out of the Uber and looked up at the building in front of him. It was fairly unassuming, the kind of spa you’d expect to see in a strip mall, but this one stood alone in what had very clearly been a vacant lot just a few months ago.

“Doesn’t look very Grand to me,” the man muttered to himself as he strode up toward the double doors made of hazy purple glass and emblazoned with the business’s mot “Grand Galaxy Spa—Because You Deserve To Feel Out Of This World!” But as he pushed his way through the doors, his eyes widened in appreciation.

Whatever money the business owners had saved on curbside appeal, they had clearly put toward interior decoration and staffing. The place exuded luxury: sumptuous lounge furniture, matte black and dark violet surfaces speckled with silver accents, and light glinting off every surface in the Grand Galaxy Spa like a thousand stars.

But what really held Max’s attention were the women working the business. From the looks of it, whoever owned this place had walked into a Hooter’s and offered a job to the entire waitstaff: as the man gazed around the spa, he let his eyes linger on the women’s beautiful hair, their perfect lips, and most importantly, their hourglass figures.

He was in the middle of noticing—and appreciating—the ample cleavage of the woman working behind the registration desk when she looked up suddenly and met Max’s eyes, raising her eyebrows at the man’s obvious stare. Max spluttered in embarrassed surprise and strode forward to the desk, trying to ignore the feeling of subtle blush creeping up the back of his neck.

“Can I help you, sir?” the woman asked, as Max leaned forward to rest his elbows on the counter. She was beautiful—almost stunningly so—but Max worked to maintain his casual composure. He had only moved to the city a few months ago, and already he was racking up an impressively high number of one-night stands. The women here seemed to go wild for his slender build, his perfectly tousled hair, and—he was proud to admit—his ten-inch dick.

“You sure can, Gwen,” he said as he glanced at her name tag, raising his eyebrows at her with a roguish grin. “I hear this is the best place in the city for some good old-fashioned servicing.” One of his new drinking buddies who seemed to love encouraging Max’s sexual exploits had recommended the Grand Galaxy Spa to him, insisting that the eye candy was out of this world. He himself hadn’t managed to land a fuck yet, but he seemed confident Max’s special mixture of confidence and cock would have the gorgeous spa workers lapping at his feet.

“You heard right!” Gwen chimed, smiling politely. Her fingers still flying over the keyboard, she began to outline the spa’s services. “Most new visitors go for our welcome package, which includes a 45-minute massage followed by 15 minutes of aromatherapy. If you’re looking for something that focus on healing, I’d recommend our wellness package, which starts with 30 minutes of aromatherapy facial massage and leads into a 45-minute sound bath coupled with reflexology-based foot mapping. We’ve also got a really popular heart chakra package, for our guests with cardiovascular concerns, and—”

“That one might be for me,” Max said, raising his eyebrows at her and winking. “Because you’ve got my heart going—oh wait, I think that’s... Mr. Longjohn... he might need a massage...”

Gwen’s amiable smile faded and she turned toward the computer. Typing with even more verve than before, she continued, “—the heart chakra package also offers guests a relaxing sound bath. Our newest package focus on arthritic concerns, featuring hot wax dips and steam-based healing along with basic massage. If you’d like, I can create a customer profile for you—”

Max furrowed his brows with a friendly smile. “That all sounds really great, really,” he said, tiptoeing one of his hands toward her over the desk. “But it’s not me that needs help, it’s my little—well, big—friend.” Another double eyebrow raise and a glance downward. “Mr. Longjohn.”

The woman’s fingers paused, and she rolled her eyes toward Max. She looked at him for a long moment, blinked twice, sighed, and pulled a fresh sticky note off the pad in front of her.

“Email address?”

“Uh... what?” Max asked, taken a little aback by her flat tone.

“Mr. Longjohn’s email address? If you give me his information, I’ll enter him into our system and we can reach out to schedule an appointment with him. That way you can get back to your day—no need to spend more time here on behalf of your friend. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

Max straightened up and laughed awkwardly. What a clueless chick! She really thought he had a friend named Mr. Longjohn. Well, this meant it was time to be more straightforward—some people just couldn’t pick up on subtleties.

He leaned forward again, planting his elbows on the counter and resting his head on his bridged fingers. He puckered up his lips and arched an eyebrow at her. “Come on, beautiful. The bimbo thing is cute, but I don’t want a regular spa service. I’m here for something special. For me. For... you know.” Another glance downward.

Gwen didn’t bother to notice Max’s overly exaggerated gestures. She pulled out her phone and tapped out a quick message. After the long, silent moment, she looked up at Max and smiled evenly.

“Of course! Something special. You should have said so up front,” she said, pushing herself back from the desk. As she raised herself to her feet, Max straightened up too, and an unfamiliar thrill surged through him when he realized the woman stood easily a head taller than him. “I just texted some of my sisters here to let them know we have a special guest. Please, take your shoes off and follow me. I’ll lead you to our special chair.”

Sisters? How did he get so fucking lucky? Max nearly laughed with giddy excitement as he slipped his shoes off and followed the spa employee behind the desk and down one of the dark, heavy-scented hallways. “Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave, baby,” he said as they walked, his eyes lingering on her every curve. Max was walking with an especially affected swagger, trying to cover up the fact that he had to hurry to keep up with her long strides.

“What?” she said.

“Uh, nothing,” Max said. He was a little bummed she didn’t get his hilarious joke, but it would be too hard to explain. “How long is this hallway? This building isn’t that big...”

“The incense makes it feel longer,” she said, and stopped abruptly. Max nearly collided with her, but caught himself just in time—and then inwardly cursed himself for not taking the opportunity to accidentally press himself up against that killer body. “This is the door,” she said, pushing it open.

The room inside was dim and similarly filled with black and violet velveted surfaces and gleaming silver accents, but it lacked the heady incense of the hallway. Max took a deep breath once inside, glad for the opportunity to clear his lungs and head a bit.

“Here is your special chair, for the special guest.” Gwen gestured toward the only chair in the room, a big futuristic-looking spa chair that in brighter lighting would have blazed an eye-watering pink. The chair looked padded and comfortable, complete with an attached pair of virtual reality goggles and insertable hand and feet rests. It seemed a little too big for Max—he could honestly sit next to himself in the chair and still wouldn’t risk touching the sides—but he wasn’t about to admit that to this hot chick.

Max’s grin flickered a little when the woman walked casually over to a desk and tech console on the other side of the room. The console was raised high, to accommodate Gwen’s standing stature, and she stepped behind it and looked up at the man on the other side of the room.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Not at all, baby,” Max said, giving a gallant smile. “I just—you’re gonna help me out in this chair, right? This isn’t one of those all-machine massage situations, is it? I mean, it looks like a nice chair and all, but there’s nothing quite like the human touch, am I right?”

Gwen arched an eyebrow just as the door to the room opened, and four more women poured in. They were each and every one of them stunning, and Max’s eyes went wide as his face broke into delighted surprise. Without another word, he lowered himself into the spa chair onto what felt like a gel cushion and looked around at the beautiful women standing in front of him.

“I’m... I-I’m M-Max...” he said, displeased with the shake in his voice. But faced so suddenly with a panel of such stunning women, he figured he ought to forgive himself.

“Thank you, Max,” Gwen said, “for that marvelous introduction.” Her fingers began to fly over the console in front of her and the spa chair suddenly whirred to life.

“We will be here to help guide you through the experience if and when needed,” one of the other women said, smiling pleasantly at Max.

Another one nodded. “The virtual reality goggles will show you pleasing and relaxing images while we work on your special spa service.”

Max leaned forward and opened his mouth to ask a question but a third woman cut him off by stepping toward him and popping something in his mouth. “Complimentary mint,” she explained, placing her hands on his shoulders and firmly guiding him to sit up straight and rest against the back of the chair.

As Max settled into the enjoyable not-quite-minty flavor of the complimentary mint, he let the woman guide his hands and feet onto the rests where she secured them gently. Just as he was remembering to appreciate the low cut of the woman’s shirt, another one stepped forward and slid the goggles over his eyes. For a moment, this didn’t change much—he leered on, not really caring whether he was looking through glasses or not, as long as he was looking at boobs. But with a gentle tap on the side of his head, the goggles hummed to life, and he found himself suddenly suspended in a sunlit meadow.

“Tits!” he said in annoyance, and the hands finishing all the whatevers they had to do with the chair—tightening some straps, it felt like, guiding some massage tool into place around his neck?—pulled back. “I—I mean, t-toots! Thanks, toots, thanks for helping out.”

He stood alone in the vast noontime meadow, but the woman’s voice echoed around him as loudly as if she were there next to him—which, of course, she was. “It’s my pleasure. You’re all set! We’ll be right here next to you through the whole thing. Enjoy it—you’ve earned this.”

The horny man opened his mouth to prod them again about what they meant by “next to”—what kind of orgasm was a stupid spa chair supposed to give him?—but before he could speak, the chair whirred to life.

Max had sat in massage chairs before (if you could really call them that, with their half-assed mechanical kneading), but he had never experienced something like this. The chair was kneading, pressing, pulling, pinching nearly every part of his body, sending surges of pleasure—intense pleasure—down his spine. In front of him, the gentle meadow remained as placid as ever, its tall grasses jostling softly in the slight breeze, the glimmering sun bathing everything in a warm golden glow. The sensations rocking his body continued, but Max found his attention falling deeper and deeper into the idyllic scene in front of him, the tranquility drawing him in, holding his focus, making it hard to concentrate on anything but how relaxed he was. He could still feel the pleasure of the massage as the chair worked its magic, but the sensations settled into a comfortable backdrop for the meadow’s immersive calm.

As Max leaned back into the chair, sinking into the bliss induced by the combination of the chair and virtual reality goggles, the women standing in front of him sighed and rolled their eyes.

“It seems like the attention-capturing software is doing its work,” Gwen said, while her fingers flew over the console keyboard. She reached over and gripped a dial and ratcheted it all the way to the right. Moans began to drift across the room as the chair intensified its efforts.

“H-holy f-f-fuuck, th-th-th-this chair is a-a-a-amaaaazing,” Max stammered, his voice breaking with every squeeze and poke. He was finding it difficult to focus on anything for very long, between the almost hypnotic calm of the placid meadow and the chair’s pleasurable kneading. It was really doing work—he could feel something akin to firm robotic hands gripping his forearms, rolling up and down their length, the unyielding metal kneading into his muscle. There was another pair of arms working on his calves, kneading and pushing, scooping under his tender muscles and pinching them between the robotic thumbs. It was the strangest sensation Max had ever experienced, suspended in the empty vastness of a rolling meadow with every inch of his body being prodded and massaged by some invisible—to him, at least—spa chair.

Gwen smirked as she watched the horny man writhe in the chair. He bucked and twisted, but the straps around his arms, legs, and waist held him tight. “He’ll never know what hit him,” she said, nodding to her sisters. “Make sure the goggles are completely secured.”

Two of the women stepped forward and quickly pulled the goggle straps taut. This elicited a nervous giggle from Max, who was in the middle of biting his lip as the chair found and went to work on a particularly sensitive spot in his lower back. “Oo-oooh, time f-f-for some fun, la—a-aaadies?” he managed before the chair’s devotions sent him into another barely-suppressed groan.

When the women finished, they stepped back and each flashed a thumbs-up at Gwen. She nodded and ratcheted another dial all the way to the right.

Max’s mouth dropped open in a wordless moan as a few things happened at once. First, a small compartment in the side of the chair opened up, and a silvery tube with a nozzle on the end snaked out. It turned toward Max and began to emit a light pink mist. As the mist poured out of the tube, it began to cloud around the man until he was nearly entirely obscured. The women watched for a few moments of silence as it hung there, shrouding the man from view.

“All organic and inorganic clothing fiber will be dissolved by now,” Gwen announced, as she reached over and pressed a small button on the side of the console. This opened a vent in the ceiling, which began to draw the mist in. As it spiraled up and away, the women looked at the naked man left behind. He was still writhing in pleasure, biting his lip to hold back his moans as the chair worked.

While the mist was doing its work dissolving his clothing, the gel in the chair’s seat cushion had begun to warm. Though Max was still mentally suspended in the meadow, lost in the bliss of watching gentle clouds drift by, he still moaned at the gentle warmth growing around his thighs and hips. As the cushion warmed, it too began to move, kneading and massaging the muscles in Max’s legs and ass. Now that the man was naked, the women couldn’t help but notice his enormous erection, twitching and throbbing with every poke from the chair. The man was gyrating in the seat, as much as he could manage through the restraints, and still the massage continued.

As the seat warmed and rubbed at the man’s exposed hips, Gwen typed a quick command into the console, which shifted all the lighting in the rather dim room suddenly to Max. This left the women in near complete darkness, but it also intensified the light pouring down on the man in the chair, leaving him under a sort of makeshift spotlight.

“Watch. They have not realized this yet, but the human body is actually incredibly plastic,” Gwen said, as her voice seemed to shift and take on a different tenor. “The supplement he took moments ago should be fully diffused through his body now, leaving it open to manipulation. We begin our demonstration here. Look at the human’s hips.”

The chair pulsed and throbbed around Max’s hips. As it kneaded the muscles and fat of his thighs and ass, they began to swell. It was slow at first, nearly imperceptible, but the longer the chair worked, the more evident the transformation was. The man’s thighs were thickening undeniably—though he had swaggered into the Grand Galaxy Spa with a thigh gap and hips narrow and strong from his athletics, his thighs now pressed together in the chair, as flesh piled onto them.

His ass and thighs continued to inflate, swelling bigger and bigger until they pressed against the sides of the chair. Though it had initially been fairly large for Max, leaving him with ample room on either side of his narrow hips, the man’s lower half now filled the chair entirely. His hard cock twitched and throbbed as he grew, and a bead of precum welled at its tip.

The cushion’s work wasn’t limited to his hips or ass—even the Max’s waist began to swell outward, flesh piling onto the man’s toned abdomen. His belly began to creep forward and new love handles began to spill out the sides of the chair.

Finally, it seemed like the chair seat was done—it began to cool and relax, releasing Max’s tender (and absurdly inflated) thigh and glute muscles. But just as the cushion was finally cooled, it began to vibrate intensely. The vibrations were most powerful in the very center of the cushion, and slowly, rhythmically, the cushion’s center began to pump up and down.

Max whimpered as the cushion began to thrust upward into the cleft between his newly-inflated cheeks. Mentally, the man was still lounging in a gold-lit meadow, but even the hypnotic qualities of the virtual reality goggles couldn’t fully suppress the intense sensations of the chair cushion vibrating against his anus.

As the cushion pumped and vibrated, Max’s body began to react. The sensations stimulated the tender ring of his hole, making the sensitive flesh start to surge and inflate in response. The man moaned loudly as his anus began to swell, puffing up until it became a ring of sensitive, engorged flesh between his massive asscheeks.

Max’s bucking and writhing was contained by the chair’s restraints and the man’s own swelling bulk. The more his body grew, the tighter he was wedged into the chair, and the more difficult it became for him to move. Still, the virtual reality goggles held him suspended in a blissful calm, completely unaware of the fate befalling his body.

“These changes have been natural processes that we are stimulating artificially—things the human body is capable of doing on its own, but typically over a much longer time,” Gwen explained from the darkness as she continued to work the console. “But we are also capable of changing things the body would not be able to manage on its own.”

At this, there was a loud beep—Gwen had pressed another button—and another panel in the side of the chair slid open. Another long, silvery tube snaked its way out of this panel, but this one was fitted with a pump on its end. Once fully extended, the tube navigated its way toward Max’s exposed cock and began to lower itself, inch by inch, over the throbbing flesh.

“W-wowwweeeeeeee!” Max yelped suddenly, sparked momentarily out of his hypnotic reverie by the sensation of something slipping over his cock. “Hope those are your lips or your tits, babe!” He flashed a maddening grin. “Because you know I’m a real tit guuuyy—oooouuuuhhhh...”

He trailed off into another elongated groan: the pump, finished sliding down the length of his ten-inch cock, had just flicked on. The device whirred and hummed, sending vibrations of pleasure coursing through his dick. As the man gasped and writhed, he tried to buck his hips into the pump—or, as he thought, tits—but the straps of the chair held him down. The pump continued its work, merciless, and Max began to moan openly, not even bothering to try to bite his lip or hold back his obvious pleasure.

As the pump vibrated and hummed, Max’s cock began to lengthen. Like with his hips, the growth was slow at first, but its rate quickly increased. Soon the man’s ten-inch cock stood proud in the pump at eleven inches, and then twelve, and then thirteen. It had begun to darken in color as the pump coaxed it to grow bigger and bigger, and the bead of precum had become more of a reliable stream, trickling down the length of Max’s dick to pool at its base where it was contained by the tight vacuum seal of the pump.

Still, his dick grew. Fourteen inches, fifteen inches, sixteen inches, seventeen fucking inches of cock throbbing at his hips. Though Max’s engorged hips and ass had begun to make his impressive ten inches look small, there was no denying the obscene heft and weight of this pulsing monster.

The growth was not just restricted to his dick: below his throbbing seventeen inches, the man’s balls—never small to begin with—had swollen to the size of bowling balls. They spilled out over his thighs, rolling around on top of his widened hips, their absurd size and weight tugging at Max’s abdominal muscles, now hidden beneath layers of belly fat.

Eighteen inches. The pump whirred and hummed. Nineteen inches. Max moaned and groaned, torn between his hypnotically calming meadow and the desperate, aching weight of his swelling package. Twenty inches. The man’s balls were threatening to spill over his knees now, teetering on the edges of his thighs. Twenty-one inches.

“Now, I don’t want our guest to feel like his experience ended early,” Gwen said suddenly, hammering something out on the keyboard. “Let’s make sure he doesn’t feel this next part in that lovely meadow of his.”

Max threw his head back and a gasping, shuddering shriek split the air as he came, spraying the inside of the pump with blast after blast of cum. He bucked his hips, straining helplessly against the restraints, but the chair held him firm. His cock pulsed with each blast, painting the walls of the pump. Still, his swollen balls kept pumping, making the man moan and writhe until the entire pump was completely filled with the sticky white fluid.

The women stood and watched the desperate man in silence. Several moments passed as he sat in the chair, panting, trying to catch his breath after the mind- rocking orgasm.

Finally, Gwen’s voice sounded through the dark room. “Human biological sex characteristics are determined genetically at fertilization. The species has developed ways of modifying the human body, but these are all clumsy and difficult procedures that involve surgical disassembly and reassembly of the specimen. However,”—there was another loud beep, as Gwen pressed a button—“We know that this surgical assembly method is far from the most streamlined approach.”

The button seemed to release whatever vacuum seal the pump had on Max, and as it lifted up, the cum that was suspended in the pump flooded out over his thickened thighs. The pump drew up and away, still dripping with the evidence of the man’s orgasm, revealing a swollen, throbbing pussy where the man’s cock had been. The man sat in the chair, drawing long, heavy breaths.

“Size increases are simple,” Gwen explained, as Max finally began to catch his breath. Despite all that he had been through, he still sat calmly in the chair, lulled into a relaxed state by the goggles clamped firmly around his eyes. “In testing, we found that size increases, when pushed to their limit, actually redouble on themselves and produce a genetic shift. ‘Too much of a good thing,’ is the saying, I believe. But the inversion is a good thing as well.”

Had Max been anywhere but mindlessly drifting in the virtual reality meadow, he would have been panicking about the changes that had steamrolled their way across his body. From the waist down, he was dramatically changed—rather than his once-toned waist, his narrow chest now settled into a soft, comfortable stomach, which rested above enormously engorged thighs and asscheeks that spilled out either side of the chair beneath the armrests. And instead of the twitching, pulsing cock he had flaunted his entire life, a horny, needy pussy ached between his thighs.

“The human body can sustain these changes relatively easily, because they’re all deeply situated within the human genome,” Gwen explained. “All human bodies retain the genetic memory of all human body parts, and so can be coaxed to produce them. But there are other changes that are more challenging to implement.”

Gwen pressed a button and the chair’s handrests and footrests began to hum and warm. Behind Max, gentle vibrations began to run up and down the chair’s backrest, concentrating on his spine.

“Human beings have incredibly complex appendages at the ends of their limbs. The hands are, in particular, astounding, given their dexterity and strength. But with enough pressure and guidance, it is possible to remove some of this complexity.”

Max moaned again as the rests holding his hands and feet tightened suddenly, gripping his fingers and toes tight. The contraption was squeezing him, applying incredible amounts of pressure evenly across his digits. The handrests and footrests squeezed, squeezed, squeezed, squeezed—and, for a moment, rested—before beginning to vibrate suddenly, sending humming jitters up Max’s arms and coursing through the rest of his body.

“The hyperrapid micro-movements open a window for atomic rescrambling,” Gwen continued to explain, her voice echoing around the dark chamber as Max moaned and thrashed in the chair, his inflated lower half holding him wedged in even as the vibrations coursing through his body sent rippling jiggles through every ounce of his new flesh. “They are currently focused most intensely on the human’s hands and feet. This is where we will begin the atomic reassembly process.”

The furious sound of fingers clattering across the keyboard echoed around the room. “I will implement the first override. Please, observe the ends of the human’s arms.”

For a few long, arduous seconds, the only sound in the room was the intense humming of the handrests. If Max had been mentally present, he would have noticed that something almost like numbness had set in, brought about through the incessant vibrations thrumming through his flesh and bones. He would have tried to flex his fingers, only to realize that he had no ability to move them anymore—at least, not in a way that felt familiar to him. He would have felt the sudden panic, the iron weight in his stomach, when the handrests suddenly ceased vibrating and split open, and he realized what his hands had become.

But Max was watching cloud after cloud drift by in his golden meadow. The sky was blue—bluer maybe than he had ever thought a sky could be?—and he had begun looking for interesting shapes in the endless stream of clouds. He had seen a big peach at first, that’s what started him on the whole thing. And then there was that cloud that he would have sworn up and down looked just like a taco. But this one... he looked a little harder. What was that? He had definitely seen it before, maybe many sometimes before... And then it hit him. He laughed and rolled over. This was getting ridiculous. Why the hell had he recognized a cloud shaped like a pig trotter?

“Though they are reasonably different in structure and function, human hands and feet respond similarly to this treatment,” Gwen explained, as the footrests also ceased vibrating and unfolded off Max’s legs to reveal his second set of trotters. “We find that due to their complexity, biological constructions like hands, feet, and spines need direct application of vibrations to open the window for atomic restructuring. The residual hyperrapid movements that course through the body are sufficient to move the process along in the limbs and torso.”

Max moaned again as the chair’s back began to vibrate intensely. As the humming rippled outward from his spine and curled around his torso, it also surged down his vertebrae. The chair’s restraints continued to hold him upright, but as it continued with its vibrations, Max’s spine began to shift slightly, preparing for upcoming modifications.

As the vibrations continued their way through Max’s altered body, robotic hands curled out from around the back of the chair to grip Max’s face. They began massaging it, their unyielding fingers pushing and pulling at his cheeks and jawbone, walking their way up his neck and curving around his forehead. As they worked, they focused on pinching his lips—and with each pinch, his lips swelled slightly fuller, poutier, needier.

Also from behind the chair, another arm reached out, this one holding a wide probe. Gently, the hands manipulating Max’s jawbone guided his mouth open, wide enough for the third hand to insert the probe. Max’s plumped lips wrapped around its girth almost eagerly. Then the hand began to draw the probe back slowly—but along with it, the lower half of Max’s face began to gently stretch as well. The robotic hand continued its work, tugging on the probe, while the other hands pinched and poked at Max’s jawline, helping it as it grew and extended into something akin to a muzzle in shape.

Max’s jawline sufficiently reshaped, the hands moved their ministrations upward, to his nose. “Please observe,” Gwen’s voice echoed, “as the hyperrapid micro- movements will allow the nose to be adjusted without breakage.”

The hands began to pinch and prod Max’s nose, and it folded and mashed just like clay under their firm touch. Eventually, they managed to draw it gently forward and flatten it out, leaving Max with an awkwardly large pig’s nose in the middle of strangely manipulated face.

“We are nearly there. Please pay close attention to the final steps.”

There was a moment of whirring as the chair shifted gears and suddenly two arms protruded from behind it, each one gripping a large round suction cup. Quickly, the arms pressed these suction cups down firmly on Max’s chest where they fit perfectly over each pectoral. After ensuring they had achieved a perfect seal, the hands began to draw back firmly on the suction cups, creating a tugging force on the man’s chest. As they pulled, Max began to moan softly, and his nipples began to swell.

“We find that once the window for atomic restructuring has been opened, the human body is much more yielding than our machines.” Gwen’s voice sounded different now. It was raspier, somehow, and even more stern than before.

The hands continued pulling on the suction cups, gently enough, but without pause. For a few moments, there was no sound but the man’s soft moaning as his nipples plumped. Then, Max gave an enormous gasping groan, and his pec muscles suddenly erupted outward, swelling into mounds of jiggling flesh.

Moving rapidly, the hands broke the vacuum seal and pulled the suction cups off of Max’s new tits. They were enormous, heavy, heaping breasts, and their weight pulled him forward into a slouch. But the hands weren’t done. They lifted Max’s tits and secured the same suction cups just underneath. Once they achieved a complete seal, they began tugging again.

“This isn’t customary,” Gwen noted dryly, “but our client was such a tit man that I thought we might give him what he wanted.”

Again, a pair of enormous tits erupted from Max’s torso and hung, heavy and full, below his first set. The hands peeled the suction cups off the new breasts and applied them again to his torso, just below these new tits.

“Really, we’re known for our excellent service,” Gwen said, as the hands yanked another pair of breasts into existence to hang below Max’s other four. Yet again, they lifted up his rows of heavy breastflesh to lock the suction cups onto the lowest part of his torso, just above his thighs. And yet again, his body yielded to their insistent tugging, leaving the man with four rows of hefty tits spilling over his torso.

The sun shone brightly on the meadow, and Max sat up, yawned, and stretched. He had been here for a while. And don’t get him wrong, this massage had been good—but when was something interesting going to happen? Sure, he had almost cum that one time, but that hadn’t panned out, and shit, he was just ready to be done already. He made up his mind. It was time to get out of here—maybe he could still convince one of the women to fuck him on his way out.

But pulling himself up out of the blissful trance he had allowed himself to slip into was harder than Max expected. For starters, it felt harder to talk than it should—he figured that was grogginess from being so entranced by the virtual reality.

“Imrrreeddddgo?” he managed, a blush creeping up the back of his neck. That was embarrassing—he hoped none of the ladies had heard that. Better try again.

“I’m rr-rrrrrr-reaaaady to goooOINK?!” The blush deepened. Fuck this! He was humiliating himself in front of the hottest women he had seen in years. He was over this. Max tried to lift his arms up to take off his goggles and swore when he realized he was still buckled into the goddamn chair.

“Welcome back, Max,” Gwen said, and Max quieted down. Why did she sound different? “We’ll get you out of that chair, don’t worry. You just sit tight.”

Max nodded, deciding it was probably better to wait to speak until he had shaken whatever headfog that VR meadow had left him in, and waited as he felt the women’s hands moving up and down his limbs, unstrapping him from the chair. Hey, he thought, kind of kinky.

Finally, he felt them help him up from the chair, and he stood unsteadily, supported by their strong arms. Why was it hard to stand? And why was he still wearing these goggles? He tried to raise his hand to take the goggles off, but for some reason his arm bent... differently than he was used to. And his hands themselves, they felt strange, almost... clumsy?

“Deactivate the goggles,” he heard Gwen say, and a pair of strong hands tapped some combination into the side of goggles. The meadow in front of Max flickered and melted away, and the man’s eyes widened in confusion and disgust at the creature in front of him.

It was a twisted mockery of a pig, with a body exaggerated for sex—rows of huge tits running down its torso, its hips so wide he could see its jiggling ass behind it as it stood there on its hind legs, staring directly at him, a mixture of revulsion and uncertainty in its eyes.

The thing blinked at him, and he twisted around to look in confusion at Gwen, to demand to know what the fuck was going on. But his jaw dropped when he saw standing next to him not the gorgeous woman he had hoped to take home, but a towering amazonian hyena person, leering down at him over its enormous tits. It was so tall he stood just barely a head taller than its throbbing cock.

Max stammered and tried to stumble back away from the giant, but his voice seemed to be failing him. “Wh-wh-whrreeeEEEEE?!” he squealed as he pulled out of the grasp of the other hyena-like creatures holding him. He took a step forward, determined to sprint away and get the hell away from whatever this nightmare was, but his feet didn’t seem to go where he wanted them to and he fell forward, catching himself on his hands.

Or what he thought was his hands. Max looked down at the pig trotters in front of him and squealed in fear and confusion. He looked back up, straight into the mirror, and saw the pig thing looking back at him, its rows of tits splayed out underneath its jiggling body. His jaw dropped and his heart thudded as he put things together.

“That’s quite enough,” chuckled Gwen, as she bent down and tapped a code into the pig freak’s goggles. They whirred to life, and Max’s shocked expression slid away, replaced by a sloppy, open-mouthed grin. The enormous gnoll straightened back up and turned around to see the rest of her crew. “Someone beam a message up to Interstellar Base. Tell them we’ve got another specimen for the galaxy zoo.” She looked down at the content, drooling creature on all fours in front of the crew. They were leering down at the fuckpig and stroking their massive gnoll dicks. Gwen sighed and rolled her eyes. “Clean him up and send him up to Interstellar when you’re done.” She turned and left the room as the crew closed in around Max.

They groped and prodded the fuckpig, mocking him for his bizarrely altered body. One of them grinned, running her hand down Max’s side, over his rows and rows of heavy breasts. “You wanted tits so much, you asked for them multiple times,” she said, flicking one of his nipples. “I’m glad we were able to give you what you wanted.”

The pig grunted in response as another one slapped him on his ass, sending jiggling ripples across it as the rest of the crew laughed. “Such a curvy figure! And the perfect hole, clearly meant to be used.”

“From both ends,” another one added, running her finger over Max’s inflated lips. “These are gorgeous, babe,” she winked, and flicked his piggy nose, making him squeal.

They laughed. Another one wrapped her hand around his tail and tugged as the crew stepped in around him. “We’re gonna have fun with you.”

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