#monster tf

I yelled and shook the kid off me, red on my arm from where he bit me. Luckily for me his big brother had seen the whole thing, thanking me for keeping him from falling after he had tripped. My injury looked like little more than a surface scratch, despite a lot of blood, but the surfer dude insisted on getting alcohol and bandages. 

They turned out to be unnecessary as it seemed the blood must have come from the boy's mouth. My arm didn't have a mark on it. You'd think that would have been the end of it, but the older boy, who introduced himself as bodhi, wanted my name and address, and kept asking me to see some special doctor he knew. I just drove away, not wanting any hippie herbal treatments, and I figured that was the last I would see of them. 

I had forgotten all about the encounter, but a month later, a sudden knock startled me. Answering, I found bodhi waiting on my front porch. My sudden scowl made him step back and raise his hands. "Sorry to bother you. I tracked you down through your license plate." Considering the trouble he must have gone through to find me, I sighed and waited. When I did not invite her in, she said "My... um, lil bro. He like, startled when he started to fall and fear made him react bad to your grab." 

I nodded, hoping to speed him on his merry way. The young man flushed, then said "I know it seemed like nothing, but he really did bite you. And that was your blood." At my dubious look, he continued. "You just healed super fast. It's like the infection doesn't want to be known about" He sighed. "Like a Werewolf curse." OK, he was a nutcase, probably high on weed right now too.

“Um, right. Well, I haven't tried to chase cars, but I'll keep that in mind, OK?" I started to shut the door, only to have him persist. 

"Teddy isn't really my brother. He's my Gramps." That comment made me make a renewed effort to get him to leave. 

"Sir, I need you to leave. Please." I could see he wanted to argue, but then shook his head. 

"I'II go." I watched him return to his scrappy truck and drive away, resolving not to answer

the door to strangers for a while.  At least until it started to turn dark, Trick or Treating started at 6 PM. I stepped out to check my porch light and noticed that we had a full moon. then suddenly felt dizzy and nauseous. 

I grabbed the side of the house and then staggered into the yard, expecting to throw up. As I did, my jeans cut off at my knees, the excess Dinum dropping to my ankles, making me nearly fall over. The sick feeling passed, leaving me bewildered by the sudden cool breeze on my chest, which was somehow now bare?

 I stared as I lifted each leg, easily pulling free of the pooled up fabric of my pants. Muscular, hairless legs and smooth bronze skin. They looked like they had spent countless hours in full sun. My (also tan) hands jerked up to feel a hairless chiseled face, long blonde hair hanging in my eyes, just like… "Dude." I recoiled from the deep slow voice, which I remembered from earlier that day. Turning, I saw Bodhi looking at me with a sad smile.

 "There was always a chance that you would be immune, or there wouldn't be enough change for you to notice much." He remained where he was, hands by his sides. "But it looks like you got hit full force. As far as I can tell, you are just like anyone else hit with the surf wave" I looked at my arms, biceps bigger than my head used to be and then up at the night sky.

 "Am I going to turn into a monster?" I asked, my voice cracking like I’m going through puberty. 

He shook his head beneath his green hoodie. "You aren't a werewolf. And you won't change again." That last was said with such finality that I looked back at him, puzzled. 

The surfer sighed. "Lil dude is only contagious during the full moon. He was hit with a weird variant of the wave, cursed to always be a little surfer boy instead of a young adult. None of us can figure it out.  I knew I should have kept him home, but even though he misbehaves a lot, he's never bitten anyone in all the months since he changed. Until you." 

I stared, comprehension dawning. "But that means..." He

 nodded. "Grandpas was like 80 years old, and now he’s 12 years old. His mind is that of the child too, now memories of his past life. And, I'm afraid, you will be joining him in that

too." I wanted to deny this, but even as he spoke I realized I couldn't remember half of my life. 

He held out a hand. "I'm sorry, we don’t normally transform those who don’t truly need to be something else. But at least you won't be alone, there’s a lot of us now. You, me, and the lil guy are related too it seems. And with me and him as brothers, that will at least be easier than being alone." 

I stare at his outstretched hand and then back at a house I can't even remember living in anymore. Then I slap his palm in a dab up and let him lead me toward towards the truck he shares with me. I am confused, the past fading and new stuff filling in the gaps, but not sad. Actually, I am getting excited to meet new friends I have never met before, and a lil bro. Even if he was the one who turned me into a were-surfer.

I’d say I am.

I really like the idea of a post-tf stats sheet/monster collection game kind of style ^^ it’s awesome and also means you can power scale your pre and post transformation self

they can't sell them, they don't want to hurt the townspeople, but they think releasing them risks them breeding and creating more. when they run out of food on a rough trip, they end up eating them themself, and it becomes a habit.

they don't realise how strong the changes are for a while. they eat the food the town gives them alongside all the mutant fish they catch, and a lot of those fish are far bigger than they should be, so their calorie intake is dramatically increased. they get softer. their clothes don't fit as well as they should. they brush it off - some extras weight isn't gonna hurt them. their clothes are loose enough to mask it.

but whatever is wrong with those fish, becomes wrong with them too. as they get fatter they also get bigger all around. taller. this is harder to hide when they come back to town. their skin gets harder, flaky, scaly, and they have to wrap up completely around other people. they cover their mouth as their teeth get sharper. they eventually stop leaving the boat entirely, leaving their catch out during the night and leaving the next, only softly answering the townspeoples' questions through the door to the lower deck in a voice that gets more warped every time they come back.

Finally, after many hardships and difficulties, sickened by how frightening they are, they manage to reunite with their beloved, and they cautiously reassure them that they know they look horrifying but they can fix this, they trust in their love to save them

And so they kiss, but the person who was cursed is confused and horrified when their claws grow even larger, their fangs become more prominent, they're physically even larger than they were, and they wonder what trick this is, what went wrong? They were supposed to turn back, the curse was supposed to be broken... Horns grow larger, fur grows thicker, everything they already grew to fear seeing in a reflection becomes more.

And then they feel a sudden monstrous lust well up inside of them, an obscene, thick, knotted cock with heavy, aching balls growing between their legs, they're embarrassed to find several rows of relatively small but notable teats along their torso, and drool starts to pour from their open maw, tongue distended as their nose picks up on the incredible scent coming from their beloved's own lust...

The curse was broken, they realise, but the form they had before apparently wasn't nearly as enticing for their beloved as this one. And there's a sense of betrayal there, though it's quickly overtaken by the carnal hunger welling inside them, and they figure-- well, they've been separated for so long, and this is the form their beloved apparently wanted more than anything, so they suppose it's only right to use it...

It's a wonder how easily their new claws shred fabric, how large their paw-like hands are and how perfectly they can encircle their beloved's waist, and how little strength they need to use to hold them so they can finally sheathe their massive cock inside them, bouncing them up and down as they sharply rut into them. Losing themselves into the sensations of it, and their beloved's cries sounding like the sweetest music as they force their fat knot inside them before yanking it out and then hammering it inside again. That obscene, delicious pop each time it's pulled back out will live in their memory forever, they think.

They definitely realise there are depths to their beloved's depravity and perversion in turning them into this creature when they realise just how much cum they're able to fit into their beloved, and how little time they apparently need to recover before filling them with another load.

Once they're finally sated, they almost feel bad for how they've acted, before they look down and see their beloved snuggled against them, covered in cum and their holes absolutely ruined, cum still smeared down their chin and chest from where they used their beloved's now-swollen and tender mouth, lapping at one of the teats down their torso, looking at them with more love than ever, and holding one of their paws against their chest.

The alley smelled faintly of grease and dust, a place most people walked past without a glance. But Jason wasn’t “most people.” He was twenty-one, overweight, unkempt, and perpetually hunched over, the kind of guy who spent most of his time in front of a glowing monitor. His jeans were too tight in the wrong places, his hoodie stained, his wire-rimmed glasses perpetually sliding down his sweaty nose.

Jason always thought he saw treasures where others saw trash. Old circuit boards, half-broken controllers, a busted VCR he once proudly turned into an external hard drive dock. So when he noticed a pair of headphones sitting on the edge of a dumpster, sleek black, clearly expensive, his heart gave a little leap.

“Score,” he muttered, shoving his matted bangs out of his eyes as he picked them up.

They were heavier than he expected, cool to the touch. The padding around the earcups was pristine, the headband flexible but firm. And on the side, engraved in silver lettering, was a name he didn’t recognize: Karv.

Jason adjusted his glasses, grinning. “Bet these are noise-cancelling. Maybe I can finally game without hearing my neighbors fight all night.”

Without hesitation, he slid the headphones over his ears.

There was no music. Obviously, he didn’t expect there to be music but then he froze.

He felt a warm sensation in his ear. Only from playing endless sessions of dungeons and dragons did he recognize what was slowly crawling out of the headphones: a tentacle. Warm, wet and slightly slimy, he felt another appear in his left ear. freaking out he went to tear the headphones off, but something stopped him, before he could. It was as if his body had stopped responding to him entirely, so he just sat, frozen in silent horror, as the tentacles protruded further inside him. 

Yet the feeling was soothing in a way he couldn’t explain, like a deep internal massage. They slid past his ear canal, past his skull, deep into his brain, his hand fell away limply, and his lips parted. 

Yes… a voice whispered faintly. Just wait.

Jason found himself nodding without realizing it, eyes half lidded and arms hanging limply at his side

 He started walking, headphones snug over his ears. The alley gave way to the street, but Jason barely noticed. The world dulled around him, a blur of motion. The chatter of cars, the gust of wind forgotten. The tentacles still moving and shifting in his head. 

The fat clinging to his body softened, then melted, ounce by ounce. His hoodie felt looser. His thighs didn’t rub so harshly. His sneakers no longer pinched at his swollen feet.

He shuffled along, oblivious, as his stomach shrank inward, as if invisible hands were sculpting him. His jaw sharpened, cheekbones rising, double chin dissolving into smooth tan skin.

And his hair—stringy, greasy, neglected—lifted, dried, and fell into a styled flow of golden-brown streaks, catching the sunlight like strands of silk.

People passed him, staring, some double-taking. Jason didn’t see them. His world was only the odd feeling of the slimy stroking of his brain. 

By the time Jason reached the main road, his clothes hung oddly. His hoodie slid right off his shoulders without resistance, pooling behind him on the sidewalk. His jeans sagged, then thinned, morphing into loose white shorts that rode low on his newly cut hips.

His sneakers flickered, warping, reshaping, until only sandals remained—brown leather straps snug around his bare, sun-tanned feet.

Jason kept walking. His shoulders were broader now, chest flat and lean, abs etching themselves into perfect ridges. His skin glowed bronze, kissed by an endless summer.

A woman slowed down as he passed, eyes wide, mouth opening like she wanted to ask something, but Jason didn’t even glance at her. His head bobbed slightly, Inside, the tentacles began to seek something deeper: his memories. 

“Fuck,” Jason murmured as the pleasure hit him, his voice flat and eyes glazed.

Jason’s thoughts had always been noisy. Worries about grades, about jobs, about how he looked, about how he never had anyone. That constant hum of insecurity had defined him.

But deep inside the tentacles invaded his mind, making the inner noise dimmer.

He moaned again, a slack smile tugging at his lips. His walk came easier now, hips rolling slightly, shoulders loose. He wasn’t hunched anymore. He now looked like a boy who belonged in the sun, not behind a computer screen.

And more memories slipped away, the slimy appendages absorbing them. His Steam password. His favorite anime. His high school humiliations. His ex-friends. Jason didn’t even notice it was all gone.

By the time the sun reached its peak, Jason’s mind was almost empty. The tentacles had erased everything unnecessary.

He couldn’t recall his last name. He couldn’t picture his old face. He didn’t even remember what his voice used to sound like.

He only remembered a single word: master.

Jason looked down at himself, at the smooth ridges of his abdomen, at the golden skin gleaming with sweat. His shorts clung to his hips, his sandals snug, his hair falling in perfect waves.

He smiled dreamily. Perfect. For Master.

His feet suddenly stopped. A massive home rose in front of him. He looked up confused until he recognized the carved poles and towering windows. This was the master's home, the headphones had brought him. . .home.

His hand rose to adjust the headphones. The tentacles had receded back from where they had come, leaving him feeling light and empty headed. He felt an ache in his chest—not fear, not longing, but need. He couldn’t rest until he obeyed, something, anything.

His entire body, mind, and soul belonged to his Master.

He stepped forward again, sandals slapping against the concrete steps, abs flexing as he walked. His blank, blissful eyes lifted toward the door. There were no thoughts left in his beautiful, empty head. He opened the wooden door and stepped inside. . .