The sun shone through the window the next morning, casting a warm glow across the apartment. Chris's large form took up most of the bed, his newfound size a stark contrast to the familiar space. Brad, nestled in the crook of Chris's arm, had made do with the little space he had left, using one of Chris's green furry moobs as a makeshift pillow. The gentle rise and fall of Brad's chest was the only movement in the otherwise still room, his face buried in the soft fur of the mammoth hybrid.
Chris's eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he felt was Brad's body heat and the strange pressure on his chest. He looked down to see Brad's arm draped across him, hand resting comfortably on one of his moobs. A smirk tugged at the corner of his thick mammoth lips as he realized the absurdity of the situation. He was a freak, but here was Brad, the love of his life, using him as a giant, furry teddy bear. He felt a twinge of affection, despite the heaviness in his heart.
Brad's head was using the other moob as a pillow, his arm draped over Chris's new body part, which felt both strange and surprisingly natural. The room was a symphony of soft snores and the occasional rustle of fabric as Brad shifted in his sleep. Chris felt the heat of Brad's breath on his fur, and for a moment, everything felt almost... right. But then reality crashed back in with the unwelcome reminder of the bulge pressing against his thigh.
With a start, he realized it was morning wood. In his new form, it was a formidable beast, tenting his boxers like a circus tent. These oversized underwear had been designed to handle the sheer magnitude of his transformation, and even then, they were being tested to their limits. He felt a blush creep up his neck and into his cheeks, fur not doing much to hide his embarrassment. It was the first time he'd had to deal with this... situation, and he had no clue what to do.
Brad stirred, blinking sleep from his eyes. He looked up at Chris, a question in his gaze. "Everything okay?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
Chris swallowed hard, his eyes flicking to the obscene bulge in his underwear. "Yeah... I think I just had a... a weird dream," he said, his voice tight.
Brad sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Weird dream, huh?" he said, his gaze drifting down to Chris's crotch. "Looks more like you're dealing with morning wood to me," he said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.
Chris's blush deepened. "Yeah, about that," he began, his voice tentative. "What... what do guys do with it?"
Brad's smirk grew into a full-blown grin. He knew this was a serious question, but he couldn't help the teasing tone. "Well, I usually just... take care of it," he said, eyebrows raising suggestively.
Chris's ears flapped in a display of embarrassment. "But how?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Brad's smile softened, understanding the gravity of the situation. He gently took Chris's hand, guiding it down to the bulge. "Just like you would with your... you know," he said, his voice trailing off.
Chris nodded, his cheeks flushing a darker shade of blue as he tentatively untangled his massive cock from the fabric. The moment it sprang free, it was clear that his transformation had had a profound effect on his body. It was thick and veiny, the tip glistening with pre-cum, and it stood tall, pointing towards the ceiling. Brad couldn't help but stare, his cock twitching in response to the sight.
"I'll... I'll be right back," Brad murmured, releasing Chris's hand and retreating to the kitchen, his eyes glued to the floor. He needed to give Chris some space to get used to his new body, to process what was happening without the pressure of an audience.
Chris took a deep breath, his chest heaving, and looked down at his erection. The other times he had cummed hadn't been intentional; they were just part of the strange, involuntary processes that came with his transformation. But now, with Brad out of the room, he had a moment of solitude to explore his new form. He wrapped his thick, fur-covered hand around the base of his shaft and began to stroke it experimentally. The sensation was overwhelming, his new cock so much more sensitive than he ever could have imagined. He had never felt anything like this before, and despite the fear that gnawed at the back of his mind, he couldn't help but be fascinated.
As he stroked himself, he noticed that the pre-cum was now leaking out in a steady stream, coating his hand and the fur around his cock. It was weird, but he couldn't deny the growing sense of arousal. His trunk twitched with every stroke, and his eyes rolled back slightly in his head. He had always heard that guys had a thing for their morning wood, but this was on a whole new level. He lay back on the bed, the soft mattress sinking slightly under his new weight. The fur on the costume felt surprisingly good against his skin, and he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't so bad after all.
With a groan that sounded more animalistic than human, Chris felt the peak of his arousal crest. His hand moved faster, the sensations overwhelming him, and he felt his new body tense up. The muscles in his thighs flexed, and he braced himself for the inevitable. Then, with a final, powerful thrust, he came, the thick ropes of cum shooting out of his cock and landing on his stomach with wet splats. He lay there, panting, his heart racing, as he felt the aftershocks of his orgasm ripple through his massive frame.
It wasn't the first time he'd experienced this. He had done this several times when trying to get the suit off yesterday, but today was different. It was his first morning as a creature and the sensations were new and raw. He had felt this way before but never like this, never as intense. His new body was a puzzle, and each piece was a discovery of sensations he'd never felt.
When Brad returned with breakfast, he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Chris sprawled out on the bed, his furry chest sticky with cum. "Looks like you had quite the morning," he said, setting the tray on the nightstand. "Breakfast is served," he added with a smirk.
Chris looked down at himself, feeling embarrassed and proud. "I guess I did," he said, his voice still thick with sleep. He sat up and took a deep breath, his furry stomach jiggling with the movement. The cum was sticky and warm against his fur, reminding him that this was his new reality.
With surprising dexterity, he used his thick mammoth fingers to tuck his now-flaccid horsecock back into its sheath, the furry skin enveloping it like a warm blanket. He pulled up his boxers with a sigh of relief, feeling the material stretch over his new, oversized testicles. The costume was surprisingly comfortable once everything was tucked away properly.
Brad walked in with a tray of their favorite breakfast in bed: pancakes, eggs, and a side of bacon. The smell of the greasy goodness made Chris's stomach rumble, the sensation reverberating through his thick fur. He looked at Brad, who was smiling tentatively, and felt affection wash over him. Despite the absurdity of the situation, Brad had managed to make him feel a bit more human, a bit more like the Chloe he used to be.
"Here, let me help you clean up," Brad said, his eyes flicking down to Chris's massive gut. He sees the cum clinging to the fur, a stark white contrast to the blue and green.
Chris took the towel gratefully, his new body moving with an unexpected grace as he sat up and swiped at the mess. The cum was sticky and warm, clinging to his fur in thick ropes that made his stomach feel heavy and sensitive to the touch. He wiped away the remnants of his alien arousal, the fur sticking to the towel before releasing with a soft pop.
Brad placed the breakfast tray on the bed, his eyes filled with awe and concern. "You okay?" he asked, setting the plates down.
Chris nodded, his trunk waving slightly as he tried to get his bearings. He eyed the food, the smell making his stomach growl. The pancakes looked fluffier than usual, the eggs perfectly round and sunny side up, and the bacon... oh, the bacon. It looked like it could feed a whole herd. He reached for a fork with his bulky hand, but the thought of using utensils was just too much.
Instead, he leaned over the plate, his new body surprisingly nimble despite its bulk. With a snort, he used his trunk to scoop up a stack of pancakes. He felt a bit ridiculous at first, but the hunger took over. He shoveled the food into his mouth, the sweetness of the syrup mixing with the salty bacon in a symphony of flavors that was surprisingly delightful. The sensation of eating like this, of being both a creature of the wild and a man, was overwhelming. He felt the pancakes stick to the roof of his mouth, the syrup trickling down his furry chin. Brad couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, snapping a quick picture with his phone.
Chris paused, his chewing slowing as he caught Brad's smirk in the reflection of the breakfast tray. He swallowed the mouthful with some difficulty and playfully swiped at Brad with his trunk, knocking the phone out of his hand. "Hey!" Brad protested, laughing as he bent down to retrieve it.
"Sorry," Chris mumbled, his mouth full of egg and pancake. The mess was spreading over the bed, but he couldn't help it. The new way he ate was so... liberating. Brad just shrugged and handed him a napkin, grinning from ear to ear. He had never seen anyone enjoy breakfast quite like this.
Once the feast was over, Brad helped Chris clean up. The mammoth-sized mess was a bit much for one napkin, but they managed. "Alright, we've got to get you to work," Brad said, trying to keep the situation as casual as possible.
The shower was next, and it was quite an ordeal. The lab had provided shower supplies tailored to his new size, and Chris had to admit, they'd thought of everything. The body wash was in a jug, and the loofah was more like a floor mop. He stepped into the shower. The water cascaded down his fur, and he used the oversized scrubber to work the lather into his thick coat. It was surprisingly soothing, like a deep tissue massage, and he found himself enjoying the sensation a bit too much.
Brad had already started the coffee while Chris was showering. The smell wafted down the hall, and despite his mammoth size, he could feel his human stomach rumble. It was the little things, like the scent of fresh coffee, that kept him tethered to his former life.
As he toweled off, Chris took a moment to appreciate the absurdity of his new body. The water had made his fur fluffier, and the green spots on his blue fur looked almost neon in the harsh bathroom light. He felt like a giant plushie, something a kid would drag around by the tail until it lost all its stuffing. But there was nothing soft about the creature staring back at him in the mirror. The muscles rippled under his fur, and his tusks gleamed with a hint of water.
But the reflection couldn't hold his gaze for long. A gurgling sound from his stomach reminded him that even mammoths had to answer nature's call. He'd read somewhere that elephants had a complex digestive system, and now, it seemed, so did he. The lab had provided a specially made toilet, reinforced to handle his new size, but the thought of using it was...daunting. He took a deep breath and shuffled his way into the bathroom, his tail slapping against the door as he went in.
Chris eyed the monstrous porcelain fixture with trepidation. It was like someone had taken a regular toilet and hit the 'enlarge' button until it was big enough to double as a hot tub for a small family. His stomach rumbled again, louder this time. He had no choice but to face the music. He lowered his substantial bulk onto the seat, which groaned under his weight. It was surprisingly comfortable, though, and he couldn't help but wonder if they had used some ergonomic science to design it.
With a grunt, he began to push. His body was still adapting to his new form, so everything felt weird and foreign. The sensation of his bowels moving was like nothing he'd ever felt before. It was like a thick, heavy snake slithering through his insides, and he had to concentrate to get it out. The sound of his excrement hitting the water was like a bass drum echoing through the room. He could feel the heat of it even through the cushion of fur around his butt.
The toilet paper was thick and scratchy, designed for his new hide. As he wiped himself, he was surprised at the texture of his skin. It was rougher, hairier, and more sensitive than he'd ever realized. The act of cleaning himself was a strange dance of his trunk and his oversized hands, a ballet of new and old instincts. When he finally stood up, the toilet flushed automatically, and the water swirled around the bowl, threatening to overflow before finally subsiding.
He stepped out of the bathroom, the warm, steamy air giving way to the coolness of the living room. Brad looked up from his laptop, a knowing smile on his face. "How's the morning routine going?" he asked, handing Chris a cup of coffee.
Chris took a tentative sip, the warm liquid giving him comfort. "It's... an experience," he said, his trunk waving slightly. He took a moment to appreciate the gesture. Despite the bizarre turn his life had taken, Brad had managed to keep a sense of normalcy in the chaos. "But I think I'm getting the hang of it."
Chris stared into his coffee mug, the steaming liquid rippling with his trembling hand. He couldn't believe he was considering going to work as a 6'8" mammoth hybrid, but the rent wasn't going to pay itself, and calling in sick with his new body was not an option. The caffeine tickled his trunk as he took a sip, the rich aroma giving him a moment's respite from his chaotic thoughts. The idea of hiding out in the apartment for a month was tempting, but the reality was that they needed the income to survive.
Brad placed a hand on his shoulder, the gesture feeling almost like a pat on the back of a giant teddy bear. "You've got this," he said with a smile, holding out a folded bundle of clothes. "The lab sent over your new uniform."
Chris took the clothes with his bulky paw-like hand and unfolded them to reveal a fast food outfit tailored to his new form. It was a blue polo shirt, stretching over his bulbous chest and ending at his mid-thigh, and a pair of khaki shorts modified to accommodate his thick, stubby legs. The hat was a bit snug, but the logo of "Golden Guys" looked surprisingly good with his green spots and mohawk. He sighed and began the arduous process of fitting his massive frame into the uniform. The fabric stretched and hugged his new contours in ways that were both odd and slightly uncomfortable, but the lab had thought of everything. The pants had a tail slot, and no shoes were provided, but his wide feet with their four toes and thick nails didn't need them anymore.
As he dressed, he couldn't help but wonder if the lab had anticipated this outcome. The precision of the uniform made him question if they had known all along that the biosuit would leave him permanently transformed. He tried to shake the thought away as paranoia, focusing instead on the practicality of the situation. It was a miracle they had made clothes for him, and he was grateful for the modesty and the semblance of normalcy it provided.
Brad watched him with a mix of pity and admiration. He couldn't imagine going through something so bizarre, yet here was his girlfriend, now a 6'8" mammoth hybrid, getting ready for work like it was just another day. The love he felt for him hadn't changed, but the way he saw him had. The way he moved, the sounds he made, it was all different, but he was determined to support him through this.
Chris looked in the mirror, adjusting his hat and trying to straighten his mohawk. The green spots on his fur matched the polo shirt eerily well. He took a deep breath and nodded to Brad. "I've got this," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. Brad offered a weak smile and squeezed his hand before letting go.
They both headed out to the car, a compact sedan that suddenly felt like a clown car with Chris's new bulk. He squeezed into the passenger seat, his furry knees sticking to the upholstery as Brad slammed the door shut. The drive to work was awkwardly quiet, the only sounds coming from the engine and the occasional sniff from Chris's trunk. Brad kept sneaking glances at him, worry etched on his face.
"You'll be okay, right?" Brad asked as they pulled up to the Golden Guys fast food joint. The smell of grease and fried meat wafted through the air, and Chris felt oddly comfortable despite the absurdity of his situation. He took another deep breath and nodded.
"Yeah, I've got this," Chris said, his voice a bit stronger this time. "It's just work. How different can it be?"
Brad nodded, trying to put on a brave face. "Just don't let anyone mess with you, okay?"
Chris chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that echoed his mammoth form. "I don't think I'll have to worry about that," he said, flexing his thick mammoth arm.
Due to Brad working later, he dropped Chris off at the fast food place and Chris would have to walk home after his shift ended. As Brad drove away, Chris took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill his massive lungs. He stepped out of the car and felt the weight of his new body, his four-toed feet thudding against the pavement with a gentle but firm rhythm. The stares began as soon as he approached the Golden Guys, the early morning light glinting off the green spots in his fur. Customers gawked, pointing and whispering, as he lumbered through the door.
Inside, the manager, a short, stocky man named Jerry, looked up from the cash register, his eyes bugging out when he saw the towering blue mammoth with a name tag still reading "Chloe." Larry's shock quickly turned into a mix of confusion and disbelief, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "What the... Chloe? Is that you?"
Chris took a deep breath and nodded, his trunk swaying slightly with the motion. "It's me, but... I go by 'Chris' now. It's just for a month, okay?"
Jerry smirked and took a slow, deliberate look up and down Chris's form, his eyes lingering on the bulge in the crotch of the tailored shorts. "Well, I'll be damned," he said, his voice a mix of skepticism and intrigue. "Looks like you had one hell of a weekend, Chris."
Chris felt a blush spread across his new, fur-covered cheeks. "It's a long story," he mumbled, trying to keep his voice steady. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, the thump echoing through his new body.
"Don't worry," Jerry said with a knowing wink. "Your secret's safe with me. And frankly, I'm just happy to see you're... adjusting to the new gig." His gaze lingered on the massive mounds of fur where Chris's chest used to be. It was clear that the lab had called ahead, preparing the manager for this bizarre turn of events.
With a sigh of relief, Chris took his place behind the register. The cashier's apron barely fit around his bulky waist, but the lab had thought of that too, providing an extra-large one that was a bit too snug around his new, protruding midsection. He looked down at the keyboard with his human eyes, feeling utterly overwhelmed. The keys looked so small and far away. But then he remembered his new anatomy.
Carefully, he lifted his trunk and hovered it over the keys. It was surprisingly nimble, and with a bit of practice, he could feel the buttons depress under the soft tip. The first few attempts were clumsy, but after a couple of tries, he managed to tap the keys with surprising dexterity. The screen flickered to life, and he punched in the code to start his shift.
"Welcome back, Chloe," the register chirped, the name echoing through the room.
Chris chuckled at the old nametag still reading 'Chloe' and corrected the register. "Welcome back, Chris," it said with a robotic cheerfulness, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of relief. He worked the register like he'd been doing it his whole life, his new body moving with surprising grace as he took orders and served food. Subconsciously, he'd started to act more like the creature he'd become, his trunk twitching in time with his speech and his massive frame swaying slightly as he worked. It was as if his mind was still playing catch-up with his transformed body.
The first customer that came in was a young lady, she looked at Chris with a mix of shock and fascination. She was petite and blonde, with wide eyes that darted from his face to his groin and back again. She was trying to decide whether to laugh or run away.
"Hi, welcome to Golden Guys," Chris said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, his voice deep and resonant, echoing through his trunk.
The young blonde took a step back, her hand hovering over the menu. "Uh, can I have a... a number two?" she stuttered.
Chris's trunk twitched with amusement. "Sure, one burger, one side of fries, and a soda coming right up." He hit the corresponding buttons with thick fingers, the cash register beeping and whirring. The sight of him operating the cash register, his new appendage moving with surprising dexterity, was enough to make anyone's day. The smell of grease and frying meat filled the air, and he found his mammoth nostrils flaring with every breath.
As the day went on, Chris grew more adept at his job. He used his trunk to grab the orders, the plastic containers clattering against his tusks. His colleagues watched him in awe and bewilderment, whispering to each other as they tried to figure out how to act around him. The customers' reactions ranged from shock to outright fascination, and the line grew longer as people waited for a glimpse of the mammoth-human hybrid serving fast food. The flashes of cameras and murmurs of amazement filled the restaurant like a buzzing cloud of bees.
Brad had tried to prepare him for the attention, but nothing could have truly readied Chris for the onslaught of stares and whispers. Yet, he remained unflappable, his newfound confidence growing with every order. His thick mammoth skin seemed to act as a shield against the barrage of questions and curious glances, and his deep mammoth eyes remained focused on the task at hand: serving the next hungry patron.
The lunch rush was a blur of fur and fast food. Chris's trunk deftly swiped at the cash register's screen, his massive paws handling the crumpled bills and coins with surprising grace. His tusks gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights as he took orders and called out numbers. Despite the chaos, Brad's words echoed in his mind, a beacon of reassurance in the sea of uncertainty: "You're still Chloe, just in a different body."
Finally, the clock struck two, and his lunch break began. Sadly the restaurant had no break room. Instead, he had to sit out in public with the rest of the customers. He slid into a booth, his new bulk taking up almost the entire space. His stomach rumbled, reminding him of his newfound hunger. The smells of the fast food were more tantalizing than ever before. He ordered a triple burger meal, and the cashier didn't bat an eye. They had already seen it all today.
As he sat down to eat, the whispers grew louder. People were pointing, smiling, and even asking for selfies. Some were afraid, others were fascinated, but all were curious. His manager, Mr. Jenkins, came over with a look of concern mixed with excitement. "Chris, I had no idea this was going to happen!" He said, his eyes glancing at the news van outside. "You're a hit! The sales are through the roof!"
Then, without warning, the doors to Golden Guys flew open with the force of a tornado, and a horde of flashing cameras and eager reporters rushed in. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, revealing a sea of hungry eyes and pointed microphones. The news crew had somehow gotten wind of the 'golden mammoth' and had come to get their scoop.
Chris froze a half-eaten fry poised mid-air, his mouth hanging open in astonishment. The noise was deafening as the crowd cheered and clapped, a cacophony of excitement and disbelief. The reporters bombarded him with questions, their voices blending into an indistinguishable roar.
"What's your secret to looking so good, Chris?"
"How does it feel to be a mammoth?"
"Can you give us a little trunk show?"
Chris was shocked at how positive the questions were, he had expected the worst. He took a deep breath, feeling the cold fry drop to his plate. He had to think fast. "Well, I guess the secret to looking good is a good diet and plenty of exercise," he said with a wink, trying to keep his voice steady amidst the chaos.
"as for the mammoth question," Chris began, his voice booming slightly through his trunk, "it's definitely an adjustment. But you know what they say when life gives you tusks..." He paused for a beat, letting a smile creep through the fur of his cheeks before continuing, "You learn to love peanuts!"
The crowd of onlookers, mostly teenagers and the occasional curious adult, giggled and clapped at his little joke. He then used his trunk to perform a little trick, lifting a tray of drinks off the counter and gracefully placing them in front of a surprised family of four. The amazed patrons snapped photos and videos on their phones, sharing them across social media with hashtags like #MammothMiracle and #FurryFastFood. The local news crew set up outside the restaurant, eager to capture the next moment of 'Chris the Mammoth' in action.
But amidst the flashing lights and the smell of sizzling burgers, Chris felt a pang of anxiety. The stares, the whispers, the constant need to perform – it was all starting to get to him. His shoulders slumped under the weight of his mammoth form, and his eyes grew weary.
"Okay, okay, that's enough for now," Jerry said. "This is a restaurant, folks, not a zoo. If you're not ordering anything, please move along."
Chris gave a silent thank you to Jerry as most of the crowd dispersed, their curiosity temporarily sated. He took a deep breath, feeling the fur on his chest rise and fall with the effort. As the chatter of the restaurant pattered back into a steady rhythm, he retreated to the relative quiet of the eating area for his break. The booth he was in was one of the larger ones, which was good because his new body took up quite a bit of space. He slid into it with a sigh, his tail flicking against the vinyl.
When he returned to the counter, his popularity had not diminished. Orders came in with a flurry, and he had to use his trunk with newfound dexterity to keep up. The customers watched him with amazement and amusement, some taking photos and videos. Chris tried to smile for the cameras, but the weight of his new tusks made it difficult.
During the dinner rush, a burly man with a thick beard stepped up to the counter. He looked Chris up and down with a grin. "Hey, I heard about the 'Golden Mammoth' working here," he said. "How about a burger with extra everything?"
Chris managed a chuckle, his trunk twitching in amusement. "Coming right up," he said, his voice now a deep rumble that resonated through his new body. He carefully constructed the burger, piling on the toppings with precision, making sure not to squish the bun under his clumsy new appendage. The bearded man waited patiently, his eyes glued to the spectacle before him.
As the night drew on, the restaurant remained busy. The line of customers never seemed to end, each eager to be served by the new attraction. Chris felt a strange mix of excitement and dread. The attention was thrilling, but he couldn't help but wonder if this was what his life would be like from now on. Would he always be the freak show, the girl who became a mammoth?
Chris took a deep breath, feeling his massive chest rise and fall beneath the fur. He had to admit, there was something empowering about his new form. The strength, the size, it was all so... intoxicating. He watched his trunk deftly handle the fast-food orders, his thick tusks clinking against the metal counters. It was hard to believe that just yesterday, he was an average-sized girl with a penchant for joking with customers and complaining about the grease stains on her apron. Now, he was the main event.
By the time his shift ended, Chris couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in his new abilities. The ease with which he could manipulate his environment with his trunk and the sheer power he wielded was undeniably exhilarating. He hated how good it felt to be this strong, this...different. The feeling of his thick fur brushing against his skin, the weight of his tusks as he leaned against the counter, the way his massive body filled the space - it was all so alien yet strangely comforting.
With Brad having to work late Chris was forced to walk home alone. The night air was cool, and as he strolled down the street, his fur ruffled gently in the breeze. The weight of his new body felt surprisingly natural, and his large stride made him feel like he owned the world. As he passed under the streetlights, their glow cast eerie shadows across the pavement, making his bulk look even more intimidating.
Each step he took was a deliberate and heavy thud, his mammoth feet striking the ground echoing through the quiet neighborhood. His tail swished back and forth behind him, a subconscious gesture that helped him balance his massive frame. The green-tinted fur on his mohawk fluttered as he moved, a stark contrast to the blue and green spots that adorned the rest of his body. The way the light danced across his fur made him look like a creature out of a child's storybook, a giant blue mammoth walking through a world not quite made for him.
As he approached the crosswalk, a car screeched to a halt, the driver gaping at the sight of a creature that looked like it had stepped out of a zoo. Chris felt a flicker of annoyance, but also a strange thrill. Despite his desperate longing to return to his old life as Chloe, he couldn't deny that there was something... exhilarating about the power of his new body. The way his large testicles swung in his underwear was oddly comforting, a reminder that he was still alive, still feeling. He clenched and unclenched his muscular thighs, his cock sheath bulging with each movement.
The feeling grew as he reached the apartment complex, his heart racing like a stampede of woolly mammoths. He tried to tell himself it was just the excitement of his newfound celebrity, but deep down, he knew it was something else. As he swiped his card to enter, the metal scraping against the plastic was the only sound that pierced through the quiet night. The green light flashed, and the door clicked open, revealing the familiar hallway that now felt eerily alien to his transformed self.
With a deep breath, Chris started climbing the stairs to their third-floor apartment. With each step, his moobs and large belly jiggled under his fur and shirt, sending a wave of pleasure through his body. The sensation was foreign yet oddly comforting, like a warm embrace from an unexpected source. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in his newfound power, his muscles flexing with each step. He felt the eyes of the other tenants on him as he passed, but instead of shrinking away, he held his head high, his ears flapping with each movement.
As he approached the door, he reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out his keys. His thick fingers, now tipped with stubby nails, fumbled with the lock for a moment before it finally clicked open. The door creaked on its hinges, a stark reminder of the weight he now carried with him. Entering the apartment, the familiar smell of their home washed over him, and for a brief second, he felt like his old self again.
Chris padded over to the couch and collapsed onto it with a grunt. The furniture groaned under his weight, but it held firm. He leaned back, his tail thumping against the floor, and sighed, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease. He reached for the TV remote with his massive hand, furry fingers wrapping around it. He clicked the power button, and the TV flickered to life, casting a soft glow over the room.
As he scanned through the channels, his eyes widened in shock. There he was, on the news, in all his six-foot-eight mammoth hybrid glory, being called 'The Golden Mammoth'. The reporters were all aflutter, asking him questions about his transformation, his life, and his job at the fast food restaurant. The video of him serving the blonde customer played on a loop, his trunk deftly wrapping a burger in paper, his voice deep and unmistakable as he thanked her for coming to Golden Guys. His heart raced as he watched himself, not just because of the attention but because it was all too real.
He switched the channel to a movie about werewolves, trying to distract himself from the reality that was his own life. He felt a strange comfort in watching something so far-fetched because at least it wasn't happening to him. But as the werewolf transformed on screen, he couldn't help but think of his transformation.
As he watched the movie, Chris found himself leaning back into the couch, his large mammoth body fitting awkwardly into the human-sized space. He stripped down to his boxers, feeling a sense of relief as the fabric of the costume no longer clung to him. At this moment, despite his absurdly oversized form and thick fur, he felt more like himself than he had in a while.
As the movie was halfway over, Chris found himself leaning back into the sofa, his massive mammoth body taking up more than his fair share of the space. He felt a strange sense of contentment in his new form, his oversized body oddly comfortable in the human-sized furniture. With Brad at work, he had the apartment to himself, and the quiet allowed him to explore his new reality without fear of judgment.
The TV played on, but his mind wandered. He reached down to touch his bulging moobs, feeling the soft fur beneath his palms. His hand traveled lower, to his sheathed penis, and he wondered how it would feel to be with Brad as 'Chris'. Would it be the same? Would Brad still love him?
The door unlocked, and Brad's footsteps echoed through the hallway. "Honey, I'm home!" he called out, and Chris's heart fluttered at the sound. He quickly sat up, tucking his erection away, and pretended to be engrossed in the TV.
Brad walked in, tossing his keys onto the counter, and his eyes immediately went to Chris's bulging boxers. He couldn't help but chuckle at the futile attempt to hide the monstrous erection. "Looks like someone's enjoying the afternoon alone," he teased, his smile warm and affectionate.
"I... uh, I was just... watching TV," Chris stammered, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of blue under his fur. He felt a mix of embarrassment and excitement, his new body responding to Brad's presence with a fervor that seemed almost animalistic.
Brad laughed, crossing the room to wrap his arms around the massive creature that was still his girlfriend in every way that truly mattered. "It's okay," he said, planting a kiss on the side of Chris's furry neck, "I know you're still getting used to all this." He reached down and gave the massive mound in Chris's lap a gentle squeeze, and Chris couldn't help but emit a low, rumbling sound of pleasure.
They sat together for a while, Brad's hand resting on Chris's thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping through the thick fur. They talked about their days, the mundane details of work and life providing a much-needed sense of normalcy amidst the madness. The movie played in the background, the sound of werewolf howls melding with their hushed conversation, creating a strange, comforting symphony of the human and the otherworldly.
"You know," Brad said with a grin, "I saw some of the posts about 'The Golden Mammoth' today. They're hilarious, but you're not gold, are you?" He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he poked the blue and green fur playfully.
Chris rolled his eyes, his trunk swishing with amusement. "Hilarious, Brad." He felt a strange mix of embarrassment and pride at the nickname. "I just want this to blow over before the month ends."
Dinner was a new adventure. Normally, Chloe had been a picky eater, but as Chris, his appetite had grown to mammoth proportions. Brad had gone all out, buying a week's worth of food that could satisfy the hunger of their transformed companion. As they sat down at the tiny kitchen table, the smell of roast chicken filled the room. Chris's trunk twitched, his nose flaring as he took in the scent.
"This is going to be interesting," Brad said as he placed a plate piled high with food in front of Chris. The scientists had assured them that despite the costume's male form, his digestive system remained mostly human. Chris took a tentative bite, his teeth tearing into the meat with surprising ease. The taste was incredible, the flavors more intense than he'd ever experienced. With each bite, Brad couldn't help but watch in amazement as Chris's jaws moved, his cheeks bulging with food.
"How's the chicken?" Brad asked, trying to keep his voice steady despite the absurdity of the situation.
Chris nodded enthusiastically, his mouth full of food. "A-amazing," he managed to mumble around a mouthful of roast potatoes. The sensation of chewing and swallowing was alien to him, yet oddly satisfying. The texture of the meat was different, the way it practically melted in his mouth and the crunch of the potatoes was something he'd never experienced before. It was like every bite was an adventure in a world he'd never known existed.
Brad watched, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he observed Chris devour his meal. He found a strange fascination in the way Chris used his trunk to pick up bits of food that had fallen to the floor, bringing them up to his mouth with a grace that seemed so unnatural for something so large and clumsy. His eyes kept drifting to the tent in Chris's boxers, which seemed to be growing with every passing minute. He couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation, knowing that his girlfriend, or rather, his boyfriend now, was experiencing a side of sexuality that was entirely new to both of them.
As the dinner progressed, Brad found himself growing more comfortable with the idea of Chris's transformation. It was like watching a creature from a nature documentary learn to live in an unfamiliar habitat. Chris's movements, though large and sometimes clumsy, had a certain charm to them that Brad couldn't ignore. And that bulge in the boxers... it was intriguing, to say the least. He couldn't deny that it was arousing in a way that was entirely foreign to his experience.
Chris caught Brad staring and looked down, blushing at his form. "What?" he asked, his voice rumbling with a hint of self-consciousness.
"It's just... I never thought I'd find a mammoth guy so... attractive," Brad said, the smile growing into a full-blown grin. He couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, but there was something undeniably alluring about the way Chris moved, the way the muscles of his new body flexed and shifted with every motion.
Chris looked at Brad, his eyes glowing with relief and excitement. "You think so?" he asked, his voice a deep baritone that seemed to resonate through the room.
Brad nodded, taking in the sight of Chris's broad shoulders and powerful arms. The boxers clung to his thick, muscular thighs, and the bulge growing more pronounced was not something to ignore. "Yeah," Brad said, his voice huskier than usual. "I do."
Chris's trunk twitched slightly at Brad's admission, and he took a step closer, his eyes searching Brad's. They were a few inches apart now, and the tension between them was palpable. The mammoth-human hybrid leaned in, his massive frame casting a shadow over Brad, and for a moment, Brad felt a thrill of fear mixed with desire.
But before their lips could meet, Brad's mind raced with doubt. He stepped back, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. "Wait, I'm not... I mean, I've never..."
Chris's eyes searched Brad's, and understanding dawned on them. "Oh," he said, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. "You're not Bi."
Brad shook his head, "No, I'm not," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I love you, Chloe... I mean, Chris. I just need time to get used to all this."
Chris nodded, understanding in his eyes. "It's okay," he said, his voice deep and rumbling. "I get it."
He paused, then took a deep breath. "But there's something else, Brad," he continued, his gaze drifting to the floor. "Ever since this... happened, I've been feeling things... things that I never felt before."
Brad's eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean?"
Chris took a moment to gather his thoughts. "Well, I've always thought I was straight, you know? But now..." He paused, his trunk fidgeting with the fabric of his pants. "But now that I'm like this... I don't know. I've been noticing girls differently."
Brad's eyebrows shot up. "Differently how?"
Chris took another deep breath, his cheeks flushing a darker shade of blue under the fur. "I've been... noticing them more. Like, physically. And it's not just the curiosity of seeing how they react to me now, it's more than that. I feel like I'm seeing them in a way I never did before."
Brad chuckled, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Ah, the joys of being a guy," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "You're just discovering the thrill of checking out the ladies."
Chris's eyes bulged as he realized the truth behind his actions. "But what if... what if I like it too much?" His voice was filled with a mix of excitement and fear. "What does that mean for us?"
Brad leaned forward, his hand still in Chris's, and spoke with sincerity. "Look, we've been through a lot together, and I love you, no matter what. But for now, let's focus on getting you back to normal." He squeezed Chris's hand. "We've got a whole month of this to deal with. Let's not make it any more complicated than it already is."
Chris nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. "You're right," he said, his trunk drooping slightly. "We'll just be... friends for now." The word 'friends' felt strange coming from his mammoth-sized form, but he knew it was necessary. They both needed time to process the monumental shift in their lives.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of TV shows and awkward silence. They both pretended nothing had changed, but the elephant in the room was more than just a metaphor now. It was a living, breathing part of their reality. As they turned in for the night, Brad couldn't help but gaze at Chris, now lying on his back, the furry stomach rising and falling with each deep breath. The sight of his new body was a strange mix of fascination and fear.
Chris had taken over most of the bed with his bulky frame, leaving Brad to squeeze into the space that remained. As he settled in, he found himself unconsciously placing his head on one of Chris's soft, furry moobs again. It was surprisingly comfortable, the warmth and texture reminding him of a favorite stuffed animal from childhood. He felt a strange sense of peace, nestled against the creature that was once his girlfriend, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the simple sensation of companionship without the weight of their new reality pressing down on him.
On the nightstand, the digital clock's LED display flickered to life, casting a soft blue glow across the room. But hidden behind the innocuous facade of the electronic device, a tiny, unnoticed spy camera and microphone were also active. Back at the lab, a live feed played out on a wall of monitors, displaying the intimate scene of Brad and Chris sleeping in their shared bed.
Dr. Marquez sat in her chair, steepling her fingers as she scrutinized the footage, her eyes sharp and focused. The other scientists took notes and whispered among themselves, analyzing every movement, every change in the mammoth hybrid's body language, every murmur of conversation that could be heard through the hidden mics. They studied the data points scrolling along the bottom of the screens, tracking the subtle shifts in Chris's vital signs, the occasional twitch of his trunk in his sleep, and the rhythm of Brad's breathing.
The other cameras are on the TV in the living room. The microwave in the kitchen. The light fixture in the dining room. The toilet in the bathroom. Finally the light fixture outside their apartment door. They also had the security feeds of the golden guy accessed. One monitor showed the data from his watch.
Dr. Marquez leaned back in her chair, a smug smile playing on her lips as she observed the footage from the hidden cameras scattered throughout Chris and Brad's apartment. The team had been monitoring their every move since the transformation, meticulously noting the changes in their interactions and the subtleties of their relationship. The biosuit wasn't a malfunction at all; it was a test. A grand experiment to see if their technology could hold up under the rigors of the real world, and the emotional toll it would take on an unwitting participant.
The scientists had anticipated the physical challenges, but the psychological impact was far more intriguing. They had tailored a wardrobe for Chris, ensuring his massive frame had clothes that fit and made him feel as comfortable as possible. The clothes were made from a stretchy, breathable fabric that allowed his new physique to move freely. In the bathroom, they had installed a custom showerhead and toilet that could accommodate his size without any issues.
The biosuit he had worn yesterday had done its job too well. The lab had it alter his sweat glands to release a pheromone that was universally appealing. As a result, every person he passed by couldn't help but inhale a little deeper, a small smile playing on their lips without their knowledge. The green spots scattered across his fur contained hypnotic suggestions, embedding themselves into the brains of onlookers, making him appear more charismatic and attractive.
As they monitored his movements through the hidden cameras, Dr. Marquez and her team couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride in their creation. The lab was buzzing with excitement, as they observed Chris navigate the world in his new form. His interactions with Brad and the subtle changes in their relationship dynamics were meticulously noted, every giggle and whispered concern cataloged for analysis.
They made a decision to see how Chris would be received in the public eye for a month before they would make any decisions on mass production. The lab was fully invested in this experiment, eagerly watching his every move from their monitors. Dr. Marquez couldn't help but smirk at the complete Chloe biosuit hanging on the wall, a reminder of their true intentions.