The First Of Many - Part 1 (Commission for Ehanu)

TAGS: Transformation/TF, Growth, Hyper/Hyper Growth, Belly/Weight Gain

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The amulet transforming him into a dragon was already bad enough, but now he woke up with a pair of rather sizeable girth and he no longer knew what to think.

The initial change had come out of nowhere after her found and put on that small piece of jewelry that, perhaps against best indication, he was still wearing. Granted, he had tried to take it off, but this didn’t exactly fix the whole “turned into a dragon” problem, so he figured he might as well keep it on, since it gave him a more distinguished look than whenever he was just fully in the nude.

He had maybe a couple of days of getting used to this new body before anything else happened, two days in which Mitsuri had to struggle with understand how his new body plan worked, how he was supposed to move around without having his tail bump into everything in his way, and how exactly to deal with the noticeably increased libido that left him holding his cock for hours on end, cutting into the precious little time he already had while draining him of any energy he might have to spare.

Still, it was an interesting couple of days, at least before he woke up one morning and felt his chest significantly heavier than it had been when he went to bed the night before. At first he was slightly panicked: could it be that there was something wrong with his lungs, and he was having trouble breathing? Maybe his ribs were broken somehow, and his anatomy had begun to fail after what felt and looked like an initially successful transformation!

All of these and many more were swept aside the moment Mit actually got up and looked down, at which point, rather than seeing himself and his morning wood, he saw two tits… and his morning wood. It was hard to miss, given that his cock had somehow lodged itself in between the couplet of mounds, its tip poking out from underneath and spilling pre all over the top of his… bust? He had a bust now, apparently? And it was good enough that he couldn’t get his dick to soften, no matter how hard he rubbed it down, no matter how many times he thrust into his own tits, no matter how often he opened his mouth and let it in; in fact, the longer he kept trying, the bigger it seemed to get, hell, the bigger his tits seemed to become as well!

By the time he was “done”, in that he simply lacked the willpower and energy to keep going rather than having actually climaxed, he had his hands sprawled to his side, tits the size of watermelons attached to his chest, and a cock as long as his arms and about half as thick as his torso, still pulsating, still throbbing, still eager for stimulation. Alas, those cantaloupe-sized nuts were going to have to wait, because Mitsuri literally did not have the strength to deal with himself at that moment… though he certainly did a moment later, when a rush of energy coursed through him, seemingly reinvigorating his broken, battered self, and promptly forcing the floodgates open.

He had a moment before a splash of spunk coated his face in white, after which he blacked out for a few seconds, a combination of the impact and the cacophony of sensations his brain was flooded with. When he came back to, he hadn’t changed much, though the whole bed did feel like it was a lot more creaky than usual; it took him getting up to notice his belly was somewhat pudgier than before as well, though given the breadth of the changes that swept over him, he more or less completely missed that particular detail.

Mitsuri was slightly more concerned about the fact that his dick, despite having blown its load, was still about as long as one of his forearms; more concerned with how his nuts, despite having clenched hard enough to fire their stored seed at near-supersonic speeds, were still so large as to be almost painful in how full they were. Still concerned with his breasts, ample, firm, begging to be squeezed and… milked? He didn’t want to think too much about that, but they were definitely full, and definitely in need of a good emptying, even if the thought alone was enough to leave him weak at the knee.

But at the centre of it all, serving as a motivator to keep the newly-turned dragon focused on what was actually happening as opposed to what it was doing to him, was… well, the change itself. It almost got to him, almost led Mit down a path where he wasn’t able to think about the transformation itself, but as soon as he saw himself in the mirror on the back of his wardrobe door, his entire body seemed to skip a beat: this wasn’t normal.

It was pleasurable, no doubt. He couldn’t lie and say anything differently, because to do so would be to deny everything he’d felt in the past few minutes to such an extent that it bordered on the downright farcical. But it wasn’t normal either, not even in the same way that him transforming into a dragon to begin with wasn’t normal; that at least had a catalyst, a reason for happening in the shape of the amulet, as opposed to just sneaking up on him without explanation and leaving him stuck with a body far more curvaceous than he ever imagined having.

He stared at himself, at his reflection, at the way his hourglass figure had been enhanced… and how it was, apparently, incidental. From the way he looked, Mit could only guess the transformation had intended to leave him on the heavier said rather than the curvy one, but with his natural size already being quite prodigious, the little bit of extra pudge to his belly wasn’t enough to counter the sizeable gains elsewhere. Still, as he kept looking, he noticed said gut was actually slowly swelling outwards, as were his hips and thighs; placing his hands on them revealed them to be almost searing hot to the touch, yet somehow he was never really burned, nor did he feel any discomfort when tracing their contours.

He closed his eyes. He knew the amulet had to be magical in nature, but he had never thought about the implications of this. Magic wasn’t real, or at least everyone knew it wasn’t real, so for it to turn out to exist, and in such a potent form as to be able to transform him in such a manner, was… hard to process. He had spent those short days trying to come up with an explanation, only to come up dry every time; now, however, that he had a second change taking place, Mitsuri could finally declare that he knew what the deal was: he was the first person to be affected by magic.

It made sense. He’d never heard of any confirmed cases of anything like this happening, only vague tales on the internet that were of dubious veracity at best; maybe, Mit kept thinking as if to convince himself, he was simply the first person to be hit by what would be a wave of magic washing over the world! Or hell, maybe magic had gone away in the past, hence all the stories of old, and was returning to the modern age, to give everyone a second shot at experiencing dominion over reality! And this, this change, this metamorphosis as it were, was just what his body needed in order to survive the transfer over to his new state of reality.

Now, he certainly had the magic part correctly, and one couldn’t exactly blame Mitsuri for being entirely unaware of the deep and complex metaphysics behind how magic was supposed to work or how the amulet served as a gateway, or seed of sorts, for the spread of magical energies. He was, ultimately, just a man; and as a man (or dragon now, as the case may be), he knew whatever his eyes showed up, his ears made him listen, and his brain made him think. He had access to a broken puzzle with randomly strewn parts and all he could do was try and put it together as best as he could.

Thus, it was altogether unsurprising that he was unaware that the wellspring of power within him was not merely the result of him being the first among everyone else, but rather him being the source for everyone else. He was certainly blessed, but at no point was he expected or supposed to keep all the magic to himself; rather, he was to open himself up to the world and serve as a walking, living, breathing gate through which magic would flow into reality, warping the land wherever he went, that it might sustain the ley lines and currents needed to maintain such a power throughout the planet. In essence, he was meant to share the power he felt within him, rather than keep it all to himself.

Of course, Mit has absolutely no reason to believe that was the case. And this was a problem.

Without an outlet, there was only one place all that magical energy could end up: in the dragon himself. And with nowhere else to go, and the source of it still producing enough magic to help seed a whole planet, there was nothing for the excess power to do other than to desperately try and expand its host. There was no intent there, no motivation behind it; wild, raw magic was just that, and possessed no intellect with which to try and reason with its prison or warden. It could only flow like a river, so, barring anywhere for the river to go to, all it could do was be dammed up, the proverbial water levels rising until they threatened to spill over the edge.

Of course, a release of uncontrolled, wild magic would be an absolute disaster, both for the host of it and everything around them in a several mile wide radius. There were rules in places to prevent this from happening, thankfully, Laws inscribed into the very nature of reality whose purpose was to keep such disasters at bay. In Mitsuri’s particular case, it was a simple matter of making the container bigger: if the host wasn’t powerful and girthy enough to hold all the energy that they wanted to, they would simply be made to grow until they were of a large enough size.

Normally, this would manifest when one decided to deliberately make oneself larger by absorbing more magical energy than one could take; in those worlds blessed by the presence of it, the art was often wielded to create behemoths whose raw strength was only surpassed by their magical might. However, these were more often than not constricted to a handful of very specific varieties, and only very rarely did they grow in every aspect, as that required a mixture of every possible type of magic swirling around within them… a state not too dissimilar to the one that Mit was in.

Though he had no idea of it, the dragon was host to a great number of different magical energies, each of which had their own “imprint”, their own range of action and field where they were most heavily felt. A single one in excess was more than enough to cause growth when taken in, so for all of them to be there, mixed together in one volatile cocktail, was a recipe for disaster… or not, depending on whether or not one saw the end result as desirable. There was certainly a lot there to love; Mitsuri could barely keep his eyes off of himself even after he decided that what was happening shouldn’t be happening: from his hips, his ass, his tits, his cock and balls, his increasingly-heavier, pudgy midriff, all of it combined to create a picture of elegance that was difficult to look away from.

And why should he look away from it? It was himself, and assuming he was merely the first among the many who’d be blessed by this phantom force, it would be silly not to enjoy the transformation now that it was finally happening. He was more than certain that other people, once given the opportunity, would likely go even further; hell, the dragon wouldn’t be surprised if he turned on the news later that day and heard all about the rampant spontaneous orgies started by people whose proportions stretched the bounds of current medical knowledge, or something even worse that his poor, innocent brain just couldn’t conceive of.

Better to enjoy it then, if for no other reason than the simple fact that it was happening anyway, so he might as well make the most of it. Plus, looking at himself in the mirror had become something akin to intoxicating, and Mit really couldn’t imagine what he could be doing that’d be a better use of his time than using his reflection to guide his own hands. There was just so much of himself there that it felt like a waste not to trace his own contours, not to sink his fingers into his growing amounts of pudge, not to delight his tactile senses with the softness of his skin and scales.

Sure, he was still bloating in every direction, and that was probably something he should be worried about, but just as long as he remained mobile and capable of moving between rooms, should he really be concerned? Or should he focus on what he was turning into instead? Into the picture of motherly fertility and virile manhood, wrapped together into a singular body that offered a little bit of something for everyone… though, perhaps “little” wasn’t that good of a descriptor anymore; his previous form had a little bit of something for everyone, back when he was still person-sized, yet very much draconic. Now though?

Now he couldn’t help but think that he wanted more. He could clearly grow that large, and he didn’t feel like he was even close to his limit, so it made sense to assume he could keep going, if only this magical wellspring feeding him was willing to keep pumping his body fuller and fuller. He didn’t know that what he was experiencing was less a gift and more the universe’s way of preventing a full meltdown in the area around him, but even if he did, it became increasingly unlikely that he’d even care at all; when confronted with a physical form so perfect in its appearance, so delectable in its presentation, could Mitsuri truly want anything other than more of it?

He brought his hands up to his tits, ignoring the rest of himself for the time being. He’d seen large pairs before; hell, he’d fantasised about having them on his own chest. He’d dreamed of so many different ways of obtaining a bust, wondered what it would be like to have to shop for bras and other assorted lingerie that fit, openly drooled over the idea of having breasts so large they could properly boobhat someone. Now, however, he was struggling to lift one of them; just bringing his hand up made it sink into the softness of it all, vanishing all the way to the wrist as they vanished into the beachball-sized orbs weighing onto his increasingly-bigger belly below. They were massive, and only getting bigger with each passing second… and the moment a stray thought occurred to him, the notion of fullness, was the moment both nipples erupted with a gush of warm milk, the room filled with churning noises, and his tits started bloating at an even quicker pace.

He wanted them bigger. No, he needed them bigger; it was no longer a matter of pure want, but a necessity, a requirement for a godly body such as his… so he commanded himself to grow. And, whether it was this command, or just the universe having some truly stupendous timing, he felt his balance tip forwards as his rack burst outwards with renewed size and mass, smashing the glass on the mirror, leaving Mitsuri desperately absent a way to admire himself. Then again, by that point, there was little left in his mind beyond the need to indulge himself in his new body, and given how enormous it was turning out to be, it was ridiculous to think he needed a mirror to admire it: with tits big enough to pin him to the ground, all he had to do was lean forward and bring his cupped hands to one of his nipples, letting the milk pool in them before bringing it over to his mouth, where most of it ended up trickling onto his chin and neck rather than be guzzled down as was his original intention.

And from there, down to his belly, the filling drink seemingly expanding on its way down as it stretched out his throat, stretched out his stomach, stretched out his everything; the dragon’s waistline shot out, the rest of him following suit, what used to be a merely pudgy gut turning into something straight out of a feeder’s dream as it glorped and slorshed its way into a colossal, overhanging stack of fat rolls, large enough that it pushed his tits upwards and out of the way, big enough that it forced Mit into a standing position purely by pushing him back… and onto an ass that had, too, grown to become some of far greater girth than before.

All of him was expanding, fattening, becoming a more massive version of whatever it used to be as more and more magic poured into him, transforming into supple mass for the dragon to delight himself with. Really, the losers in that scenario were his balls and cock, which, despite receiving their fair share of the growth, were still stuck underneath so much dragon meat that they could barely get room to breathe. Then again, this did leave Mitsuri constantly on edge, so perhaps that was the point: he had become so gargantuan that, by merely existing, he was kept in a perpetual state of arousal.

But he was still growing. And while there was a great big part of himself that wanted nothing more than for that to keep happening, at least a tiny portion of his brain was still worried about the implications of this, especially when his nipples were pushing against one wall while his ass was firmly glued to the one opposite, and the whole room began to creak and groan as a result of him putting far more pressure on its structural stability than it had any right to. He’d break free eventually, this much Mit knew; after a point, he’d simply be too large to fit into a room, and as he wasn’t about to stop growing until he damn well decided he’d stop growing, that only left one option: the room had to go.

And it was this that woke him back up, even if for just the briefest of moments. He looked at himself, at the immenseness of his body, and he thought two things: first, he thought about how much he wanted more of himself; and second, he thought about how impossible it was going to be to leave his room if he tried. Snapping his head to the door, there was something within him that pushed the dragon to try and go through it, only to end up having to stop for a few seconds as the loud slorshing and churning created by his sudden motions was enough to floor him and his libido through stimulation overload alone. It took a significant amount of effort for Mitsuri to power through the arousal, and even then he still got stuck in the end when his belly wedged itself in the doorframe, no longer small enough to pass through.

He still tried though. He had to keep up the polite fiction that he was still in control and didn’t need to shrink or hold back his growth; thus, he kept pushing, trying to force himself through a hole he was simply too big to go into, until he began wearing wood cracking whenever he heaved his body forward. But he had to go through, or else how was he going to show himself off to t-no, no, how else would he find enough free room that he wouldn’t get stuck?

The whole wall began to crumble and crack the more Mitsuri attempted to force the issue, until eventually it simply began to crumble. The small fissures widened and spread, joining together to create large canyons that eventually, and inevitably, caved in and led to large chunks of the whole wall simply falling off. Some would be lucky enough to do so outwards, where they would merely be buried by the advanced avalanche of fat that was the dragon’s increasingly swollen body; the rest would collapse inwardly, only to bounce on Mit and end up reprocessed into further mass.

The dragon didn’t notice this, being too busy trying in vain to push through a door that stopped being their size several minutes prior, but the magic coursing through his body wasn’t just going to let him be injured, and with such a large amount of rubble ready to fall onto him, what better way to resolve this than by absorbing anything that could potentially hurt him? By allowing the currents of magic to dissolve whatever was in the way, the wellspring of power within Mitsuri ensured that its host would remain alive and well, hopefully to then distribute all that magical charge to everyone else in dire need of it.

And if the falling rubble was being taken, why not the rest of it as well? Why not go the extra mile and start consuming the wall itself before it had a chance of doing anything remotely harmful to the dragon stuck in a small section of it? Why not extend the effects to the whole damn house and just have its mass be added onto and into Mitsuri? He was going to grow large enough to rip through the whole thing anyway, so he might as well go ahead and make the most out of it while he still had the chance… even if he wasn’t exactly in charge anymore.

Hard to tell when the swap took place, but he was no longer the one calling the shots when it came to his body, nor was he the one with sole authority over what happened with it or what actions it undertook. He was adrift in an ocean of raw magic, being buffeted in every direction, unable to stop himself from crashing into one wave or another, incapable of swimming in any one direction without being harshly reminded that they weren’t the ones at the helm anymore. And as the house disintegrated around them, so too did their pleasure spike to levels so high that they threatened to overcome whatever little control Mit still had over his own mind, until finally, it began slipping away from him entirely.

It wasn’t his fault. No one person was meant to hold that sort of power, and the poor guy just didn’t know that wasn’t the case; indeed, part of him was wondering if he was just too weak, if he wasn’t prepared for the gift reality had given him. He couldn’t know the truth, but now, he couldn’t reach it either, for his mind was slightly too preoccupied trying to process the backlog of sensory information it was saddled by. Maybe, if he’d had more time before it crashed into him, the dragon would’ve reached that conclusion; as it stood, however, the one thing he seemed to be able to think about was how much better it was to be outside, nevermind how there could be no “outside” if there was no “inside” to begin with.