FE7 Novelization Translation - Chapter 13 Section 6

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Chapter 13: Light (Section 6)

All of their allies approached the morphs, so rather than go fight them, Eliwood and Athos were able to choose to face Nergal uninjured.

Nergal was in the room where the Dragon’s Gate was located. The three faced off directly in front of it.

“Nergal!”

“...So you have come, Eliwood. Keh keh keh, you seem to have recovered completely. Is the pain you inflicted upon that girl truly so insignificant? Keh keh keh… Emotions, in the end, are all merely a fleeting moment of indecision. With the passage of time, they are utterly forgotten… They hold no meaning.”

“...I will not forget. There is no way I could ever forget. It was because of my mistake… that Ninian was lost.”

The image of that time… that moment… when Ninian collapsed to the ground… was burned into his memory. The feeling in his hands when he cut Ninian still lingered, and he continued to feel the pain deep in his heart. 

But that was his punishment.

The final present she left with him was the warning to not lose himself when wielding such great power.

Eliwood raised Durandal and continued, “That is why… I will fight. I will not hide away in my grief… I will end all of this!

“Hmph…. You are truly the spawn of Marquess Pherae. Don’t get cocky just because you have a Legendary Weapon!” Nergal shouted, then began to cast the most powerful of all dark magic tomes, Ereshkigal.

But his body was enveloped in a blinding wave of light, stopping him from completing the spell.

“Do not forget that I am here, Nergal!”

“Grr…! You have Aureola, the Glorious Ascension?! How cunning coming from you, Athos!”

Athos ripped off the blue cloak he wore, revealing that his body was covered in scars inflicted by Nergal.

Not letting the opportunity go to waste, Eliwood swung Durandal. However, the moment before the blade would make contact with his body, Nergal disappeared into a teleportation circle to dodge it.

He reappeared in a spot far enough away from them that he could pour all of his magical power into an Ereshkigal spell. “Now you two have angered me…! I will send you both to hell together!!”

Eliwood and Athos… a giant wave of darkness closed in on them, so large it could consume them both.

“I will never allow you to! Glorious Ascension!!”

Two huge manifestations of light and darkness collided, and were evenly matched.

By nature, only a Legendary Weapon could match another Legendary Weapon in combat. The tomes that could oppose Aureola were  just Forblaze, which Athos also possessed; and Apocalypse, the Darkness of Revelation, which Bramimond owned. Even other high level tomes could not compare to the a Legendary Weapons.

But Nergal had used a large amount of the quintessence stored within his body to strengthen his tome to a level comparable to those Legendary Weapons.

“Keh keh keh keh keh…! What’s the matter, Athos? Is it too much for you?”

“Urgh…" Athos groaned.

As Nergal’s words implied, Aureola’s light was starting to become overpowered by Ereshkigal’s darkness.

“Now, I will crush you with this single spell!” Nergal shouted and used even more quintessence in an attempt to heighten his magic’s power, when Eliwood ferociously thrust himself between them.

“Haaaaaaaa! Nergal!!” With a roar like that of a beast, Eliwood swung Durandal down between the two manifestations of light and darkness. The moment he did so, the sword was enveloped in the power of fire within it.

When the three elements of light, darkness, and anima all collided with each other, a mass of light so great it struck fear disappeared into thin air.

“I-Impossible…! My magic vanished!!” Nergal had such absolute confidence in his magic that this chain of events happening before him now seemed entirely impossible, and was so taken back he froze.

Eliwood took full advantage of the opportunity and howled, “Nergal!!”

Durandal was swinging straight down towards him. When Nergal realized it, he dodged to the right in a panic.

But his being so shocked by what had happened made his reaction come too late. Eliwood cut off his left hand.

“Grrrrr! You impudent boy!!"

Having lost part of his body, Nergal glared at Eliwood with bloodshot eyes and cast an Ereshkigal spell with his remaining right hand. The mass of darkness was aimed at Eliwood.

But it was stopped in its tracks by a wave of light Athos shot at it. "I told you, Nergal! Do not forget about me!"

"Athos! How far will you go to stand in my way?!"

Light and darkness collided once more. But this time, the opposite result occurred.

When Eliwood cut off his left hand, Nergal lost the quintessence he stored in his body, weakening his power.

Athos put all of his strength into this Aureola spell, so it consumed Ereshkigal, and Nergal took the full brunt of it.

"Gaaaaaaaah!" Nergal screamed, the light piercing his body.

To deliver the final blow, Eliwood shifted into position to stab him, then unleashed his attack with the speed of an arrow shot out of a bow.

Eliwood felt an unmistakable resistance in his hands.

"Guh… Gaaah!!"

Fresh blood poured out from Nergal's mouth. Eliwood pulled Durandal out of his body, and he took two, then three steps back, before falling backwards.

"Guh… I will not… die like this. My final power… will make you tremble in despair… Heh ha ha… ha… ha ha ha ha…" Nergal started laughing.

For a long while, the only sound that echoed throughout the shrine was Nergal's laughter… but eventually, it stopped. It stopped the moment he left this world.

With each of his allies having also finally won all of their battles, everyone gathered together. 

"It's over… right?" Hector asked.

Lyn nodded and said, "Yes. Now, it's finally…"

"Father…"

They had finally defeated the villain behind everything. When Eliwood thought of his late father, a roar echoed throughout the shrine, so loud that it shook the entire building.

"Impossible…" It was a roar they knew all too well. Eliwood turned towards the Dragon's Gate and ran.

Lyn, Hector, Athos, and his other allies were right behind him.

"What?!" Hector was at a loss for more words when he saw the spectacle before them.

From within the Dragon's Gate, three fire dragons appeared, each covered in red scales and surrounded by flames.

"Nergal's last words… This is what he was talking about!"

"This is bad! If dragons cross over into this world… it will be less than one month before this entire continent is reduced to ashes!!" Even Athos trembled at the sight of the truth in front of them.

"...We'll do whatever it takes to stop this! We will stop it!!" But Eliwood raised the Blazing Blade without a hint of hesitation.

Hector also held Armads, and Lyn tightened her grip around her two spirit-possessed swords.

However, they were also frozen in place, feeling the pressure of how overwhelmingly intimidating the three fire dragons were, surrounded by white-hot flames.

"Grr… These aren't your average monster! Just standing before them is making my legs shake…"

"And there is not one, but three of them… To be honest, this makes me want to pray to the gods."

Hector and Lyn were both usually confident whenever they spoke, but this one time, they were the exact opposite.

Among them, Archsage Athos, the only one with real experience in battle against dragons, stepped before the three fire dragons.

"I will go first. I will halt their progress… Then you will strike!!" He said, then used a teleportation circle to transport directly in front of the dragons. The moment he used all of his strength to cast a spell, the front most dragon breathed white-hot fire.

“Guh… What great power! Is there no way they can be stopped?" Athos had created a magical barrier, and while it was offering some protection, it would not hold for long.

“Lord Athos, please run! I’m coming towards you!!” Eliwood shouted, worried for the archsage.

But Athos would not listen. “...If I do not stand here… then we will have no… chance of victory.”

The moment the dragon started to breathe fire that could melt steel at Athos once more, a bright light flashed from around the Dragon's Gate.

The light was so bright that it made the three dragons pull back.

Then, only a moment later, someone clad in a dark green robe suddenly appeared in front of Athos.

“Bramimond!” Athos shouted.

“...Preparations… took some time. …Now, I will borrow everyone's strength… Gather here, power of the Eight Legends…!" Bramimond said, then took Athos with him and disappeared into darkness. In their place reappeared the Legendary Weapons, suspended in the air by magic.

Athos' Aureola and Forblaze, then Tempest Bow Mulagir, Blizzard Spear Maltet, Apocalypse and Eckesachs…

Those were the Divine Weapons, known as the blades and tomes that slayed dragons during the Scouring.

Each weapon emitted its own powerful light, glowing in unison as if they were all resonating with each other.

Eliwood and Hector’s Durandal and Armads were glowing as well. Both were shining brighter and then dimmer, over and over again.

And all of their lights together filled the room, making it shine bright.

It was so bright that everyone closed their eyes. When they sensed the light finally go out and they opened their eyes again, they saw a person beside Bramimond that shouldn’t possibly be there.

“This girl… child of the dragons… may her soul be restored…" Bramimond chanted.

With the power of every single Legendary Weapon gathered in one place, a miracle they could hardly believe occured.

“Ninian!!”

“...Ah, Ninian…!”

Eliwood and Nils both shouted in their joy.

In contrast, Ninian, having only been revived just moments ago, was surveying her surroundings in shock, not knowing what was going on around her. "This is…? Am I…"

"Girl with the exalted blood of a dragon. Use your powers to calm them." Bramimond said.

"...Ah… I, cannot. I do not have… my powers here…"

"...Do you not feel them returning to you?"

"Huh…? Ah, …yes… …I will try." Bramimond's words made Ninian realize that the original powers that resided within her as an ice dragon were at full strength.

"...This is all I will need. I am sorry… Even though you have probably done nothing wrong, this has happened… I am sorry." Ninian turned towards the three dragons and unleashed her powers. A freezing cold snow storm blew out from her thin, white hands.

Engulfed in the winds of a blizzard that could extinguish hellfire, one of the fire dragons, then a second, was defeated. 

But as one still remained, Ninian exhausted her powers. "I now… no longer have any power left…" She fainted, and fell straight to the ground where she stood.

The sight made Eliwood and Nils immediately rush over to her.

"Ninian!!"

"She’s alright, she just fainted. …Thank goodness, Ninian…"

"One dragon still remains. …Leave her to me." Bramimond picked up Ninian.

Eliwood turned towards the remaining fire dragon.

"Everyone, this is the final battle that everything hinges on!! We will do whatever it takes to defeat this dragon and return home safe!!" Eliwood shouted, then swung Durandal at the fire dragon.

ー

I do enjoy that helpless wonderment in your eyes and slow my pace to prolong it. Sometimes you assist in undressing me, removing the last vestiges of lace and silk from my huge breasts. My cleavage has been on shameless display all evening. The chauffeur got an eye full when he gladly held the door for my entry into his town car… and my eventual exit. I bent low enough to hint at the blush of my aureolas and was rewarded with a wink of acknowledgement as he licked his lips. The maitre d’ barely made eye contact as he sat us at our table and hovered near to assure our comfort. His accidental brush against their fullness when he offered me the large menu, was anything but accidental, and only garnered a blush by way of silent apology. Even our fabulous gay waiter was mesmerized by the depth of the décolletage in my low cut gown, complimenting my choice of designers. You took great pride in their envy of the trophy you possessed. Never addressing the ogling, you beamed while watching it transpire. Now, you have me all to yourself… for sharing the full revealing at a glacially slow pace. You are fantasizing about all the others wanting this for themselves, while I am imagining those same glances from tonight’s passing strangers to feed my arousal. When your lips finally come in contact with my nipples, they are as moist as our driver’s, so handsome in his dark uniform. Your fingertips’ ticklish caresses across the curved flesh, bring the same goosebumps raised by the brief guilty pleasure I shared with the attentive major domo at the restaurant. When both your hands grasp them together for their combined bulbous volume, I even imagine they resemble a subliminal suggestion for our darling waiter’s dream derrière. So fit in his vest that fairly rippled with the muscle underneath. You spend an inordinate amount of time in between them, lapping and kissing to fulfill your desires for full immersion. It’s difficult to measure how much time I am actually present… or floating in a trance state with 3 other beguiled men I just met, servicing agendas of their own. I wonder if they too are reminiscing about me… or just my breasts, to help them cum in my absence.

"There Was a Child Went Forth" by Walt Whitman (read by Sam Waterson)

There was a child went forth every day, And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became, And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part         of the day, Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.

The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass and white and red morning-glories, and white and red        clover, and the song of the phoebe-bird, And the Third-month lambs and the sow's pink-faint litter, and          the mare's foal and the cow's calf, And the noisy brood of the barnyard or by the mire of the         pond-side, And the fish suspending themselves so curiously below there, and         the beautiful curious liquid, And the water-plants with their graceful flat heads, all became         part of him.

The field-sprouts of Fourth-month and Fifth-month became part         of him, Winter-grain sprouts and those of the light-yellow corn, and the        esculent roots of the garden, And the apple-trees cover'd with blossoms and the fruit        afterward, and wood-berries, and the commonest weeds by         the road, And the old drunkard staggering home from the outhouse of the        tavern whence he had lately risen, And the schoolmistress that pass'd on her way to the school, And the friendly boys that pass'd, and the quarrelsome boys, And the tidy and fresh-cheek'd girls, and the barefoot negro boy         and girl, And all the changes of city and country wherever he went.

His own parents, he that had father'd him and she that had        conceiv'd him in her womb and birth'd him, They gave this child more of themselves than that, They gave him afterward every day, they became part of him. The mother at home quietly placing the dishes on the         supper-table, The mother with mild words, clean her cap and gown, a         wholesome odor falling off her person and clothes as she         walks by, The father, strong, self-sufficient, manly, mean, anger'd, unjust, The blow, the quick loud word, the tight bargain, the crafty lure, The family usages, the language, the company, the furniture, the        yearning and swelling heart, Affection that will not be gainsay'd, the sense of what is real, the        thought if after all it should prove unreal, The doubts of day-time and the doubts of night-time, the curious        whether and how, Whether that which appears so is so, or is it all flashes and         specks? Men and women crowding fast in the streets, if they are not                 flashes and specks what are they? The streets themselves and the facades of houses, and goods         in the windows, Vehicles, teams, the heavy-plank'd wharves, the huge crossing at        the ferries, The village on the highland seen from afar at sunset, the river         between, Shadows, aureola and mist, the light falling on roofs and gables of        white or brown two miles off, The schooner near by sleepily dropping down the tide, the little        boat slack-tow'd astern, The hurrying tumbling waves, quick-broken crests, slapping, The strata of color'd clouds, the long bar of maroon-tint away        solitary by itself, the spread of purity it lies motionless in, The horizon's edge, the flying sea-crow, the fragrance of salt        marsh and shore mud, These became part of that child who went forth every day, and        who now goes, and will always go forth every day.

Source: The Poets' Corner

Mal Malloy

After Party: Ranulf

All smut content will be tagged #risque

The second of the six chapters is done. This one isn't as explicit as Skrimir's, but it is still explicit.

Kinda wanted a loving route but that didn't happen asdfodmdj but that'll be for Yarne probably

Not entirely pleased all the way with the smut, but it's a start? I still have my first ever written stories, first non-kink and I think also still have my first wg, story and those are super rough compared to now, so I can at least say that'll probably get better lol

_______

"So nice and full," Rubbing the seated Ranulf's stomach, Corrin ruthlessly shakes it every once in awhile. Liquid sloshing around, Corrin smiles with each pained breathe Ranulf lets out. 

Ranulf was never really one to go out and grab his own meal. He found pleasure in teasing Corrin, claiming being famished in hopes of stirring him to feed him. It always worked, Corrin desperate to see him gain weight. After his little birthday happening, Ranulf's teasing was still there. But Corrin was now ultimately in control, Ranulf soon immobilized. Corrin originally had Ranulf on a huge custom bed before Ranulf crushed it during a feeding session. He was either lying down on his back or sitting up on his ass, the gargantuan mounds a lovely playtoy for Corrin.

"I would appreciate a bit of kinder treatment," One eye closed as a particular shake feels like a tsunami is forming in his stomach, Ranulf burps. Midshake, Corrin lifts up Ranulf's stomach. His mop of hair barely visible by Ranulf with his body in the way, he groans as Corrin continues lifting it. As if a rocket, his stomach only goes higher, Corrin's lithe figure belies his draconic strength. Eyes shut for the inevitable descent, the stormy riptide in his stomach jolts him as Corrin drops his stomach with no warning, an audible slap sounding. 

"What would you prefer?" Corrin asks.

"A belly rub would be nice," Eyes drooping, Ranulf attempts a stretch but can't, tired gasps only coming out from trying to move. "I'm just so big and full," He smirks as he sees the desired effect on Corrin, lips being licked. "I don't think I'll ever be able to put on clothes again. Not that I mind," Hands resting on his moobs, Ranulf rubs himself, face red, eyes intently watching how Corrin's breathing quickens. 

"Then let me help you," Corrin standing behind Ranulf he offers a shoulder rub, his hands sinking and shifting Ranulf's blubber. Ranulf hisses and mewls, always partial to Corrin's massages. His hands traveling upward, Ranulf purrs as Corrin's hands caress his cheeks, each one fatty enough to barely fit in Corrin's hands. Hands now in his hair, picking at his ears, Ranulf turns into putty. Granted his body is already the human equivalent of putty, his rolls malleable from how many exist. He whines when Corrin's hands leave him. 

"Why'd you stop?" No response, Ranulf can hear Corrin still behind him. Silence stretching on a bit longer than he'd like, Corrin planning something, he keeps the cool in his voice. "Y'know, if-" He twitches from a blindfold put over his eyes. His ears still serviceable, he hears Corrin walk out, his hurried footsteps betraying the lightness of his feet. No time wasted, Corrin hurries back, the sound of a cart in tow.

Immediately by Ranulf's side, he traces his right index finger in circular motions, slowly spiraling up. Hand on Ranulf's breast, the meaty boobs once using bras before any Corrin could find were either too small or too weak, Corrin traces his finger on his aureola. A mewl making its way up Ranulf's throat, his lardy arms, quivering, Ranulf moans, his breasts always an area of weakness for him. 

One hand persistent with Ranulf's moob, he focuses his other one on grabbing food. Brownie brought to his face, Ranulf nearly chokes, not expecting a treat to be shoved in him.

"Eat up," Mouth clamping around Ranulf's nipple, he playfully nibbles at it before pulling it, Ranulf's mewls fill the room. Hands shakingly bringing the brownies to Ranulf's mouth, Ranulf does the rest of the work, tongue devouring it all. 

The desperate whines of the cat underneath him finer than any operatic singer, Corrin pushes himself away from Ranulf. Hands on Ranulf's shoulders, he pulls him down, stomach rising in the air as his breasts pool down to his face. Ranulf still too relaxed for his taste, he takes a couple of padded steps away. Then he takes another. And then a couple more before he's in front of Ranulf's great big belly. 

Ranulf's whines a bit more incessant, Corrin's name constantly leaving his lips, Corrin withholds his snicker. Pretending to walk away, he fakes lighter footsteps. Hearing Ranulf's strained breath as he pathetically lifts his head up, he grabs his left arm with his right hand, squeezing until it goes white. 

"Corrin?" No response. The room silent and unable to see, Ranulf's mind erroneously connects the dots. "Corrin! Come back," Little grunts and his feet kicking in the air, his ankles unable to even touch the ground with his doorway busting calves, Ranulf tuckers himself out. "I'll eat whatever. Just please," A steady rhythm of pleasurable gasps as Ranulf struggles, Corrin touches himself.

Hand reaching the base, he wraps his hand around his member. Hjs thick and long third leg a happy byproduct of his draconic lineage, a couple strokes as he holds his own breath is all that do him in, palm full of his own semen. 

Staring at Ranulf's stomach, the idea plants itself in his mind. Wiping his jizz on Ranulf, smiling at marking his territory, Corrin places both hands under Ranulf's stomach. 

"Corrin!" Cheer back in his voice, Ranulf grunts as Corrin grabs his fat, fingers digging into him. 

Offering no words, no air coming into his lungs as he holds his breath, Corrin heaves Ranulf's stomach up. The pile of fat slowly pushed up, Corrin edges his body closer. The little barely even able to be called kicks that Ranulf does motivates Corrin, his almost gone strength slowly returning to him. 

Closer to his treasure, Corrin finds his treasure chest. Ranulf's bloated fat pad marking the spot, Corrin laughs at being unable to spot Ranulf's dick. His fat pad so warped and stretched out from his weight that it completely covers it.

Counting to three, Corrin slowly lets go of Ranulf's stomach with his right hand. One hand barely supporting the gut, it falls back down on Corrin, pushing his head into Ranulf's fat pad, the must entering his nose. Ranulf's whines break him out of his reverie.

Barely able to push back for some leverage, Corrin creates a bit of space for himself. Shoving his hand in Ranulf's fat pad, Ranulf's moans guide him as if a metal detector.

Stomach crushing him a bit more than before, heat getting to his head, Corrin quickens his pace. A particularly loud moan followed by a small twitch that shakes his body alerts Corrin. 

Huffing, realizing that he was a bit overzealous, Corrin wastes no time. Reaching past the fat, he lands his hand on Ranulf's dick. 

The poor thing not receiving any attention in such a long time, not even having been seen in such a long time, Corrin touching it has Ranulf already excreting a bit of pre. 

Smiling, Ranulf's stomach pushing him a bit harder than he remembered, Corrin laughs at realizing it'd be impossible to blow him without getting crushed. Ranulf's fat pad far too in the way, he'd sooner end up smashing his face in the expanse of fat than wrap his lips around his dick. 

Ranulf's whines sounding stronger, Corrin plays with his hardening member, Ranulf's dick slowly pushing its way past all the fat.

Stroking it, Corrin laughs at Ranulf's bated breaths, now realizing that it is actually going to happen. 

"At least," Ranulf tenses as Corrin gives a stroke, his hand meeting more resistance from the engulfing fat than Ranulf's dick. "you took me out," He shuts up with a mewl, tongue lolling out. "to dinner first," Ranulf gasps and groans as he comes, unused to someone playing with him down there in so long. 

Corrin moves to the side as Ranulf lets loose a torrent, so pent up. Hand not escaping unaffected, his cramping legs and Ranulf's heavy stomach make him ignore that. 

Both hands supporting Ranulf's stomach, he crawls back out, careful to not step on the fat on the floor known as Ranulf's legs. 

Fresh air returning to him, Corrin let's Ranulf's stomach flop back down. "Fuck," Heaving, he rests back on Ranulf's stomach. Catching his breath, Ranulf is unable to do the same, still panting despite not being the one to lift hundreds of pounds. Legs fumbling as he stands up, Corrin wastes no time in handing Ranulf his feeding tube, his pleased libido happily accepting the food without a remark, even forgetting about his blindfolded state. 

Gazing at Ranulf, Corrin huffs, his own libido still unpleased. Seeing his big fat cat submissive to whatever he does, happy to gorge for his master stirs him back to attention. Shaking his head, a couple of breaths relax him. "If you want to eat, I'll make sure that's all you do," Corrin whispers in Ranulf's ears, licking his lips as Ranulf struggles and whines. Placing earplugs in his ears. Sense of sight and hearing gone, his taste on overdrive, feeling only his own fat and smelling his upcoming meals, Corrin keeps true to his word, Ranulf now only able to eat or think about his upcoming meals.

Washing his hands, Corrin offers a reminiscent look at Ranulf's stomach. Opening his phone, his eyes light up, tossing another glance at Ranulf's stomach as he buys a pulley and other materials, idea formed in his brain.

Today’s Poem

There was a child went forth every day --Walt Whitman

There was a child went forth every day, And the first object he looked upon and received with wonder or pity or love or dread, that object he became, And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day . . . . or for many years or stretching cycles of years.

The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morningglories, and white and red clover, and the song of the phœbe-bird, And the March-born lambs, and the sow's pink-faint litter, and the mare's foal, and the cow's calf, and the noisy brood of the barn-yard or by the mire of the pond-side . . and the fish suspending themselves so curiously below there . . . and the beautiful curious liquid . . and the water-plants with their graceful flat heads . . all became part of him.

And the field-sprouts of April and May became part of him . . . . wintergrain sprouts, and those of the light-yellow corn, and of the esculent roots of the garden, And the appletrees covered with blossoms, and the fruit afterward . . . . and woodberries . . and the commonest weeds by the road; And the old drunkard staggering home from the outhouse of the tavern whence he had lately risen, And the schoolmistress that passed on her way to the school . . and the friendly boys that passed . . and the quarrelsome boys . . and the tidy and fresh-cheeked girls . . and the barefoot negro boy and girl, And all the changes of city and country wherever he went.

His own parents . . he that had propelled the fatherstuff at night, and fathered him . . and she that conceived him in her womb and birthed him . . . . they gave this child more of themselves than that, They gave him afterward every day . . . . they and of them became part of him. The mother at home quietly placing the dishes on the suppertable, The mother with mild words . . . . clean her cap and gown . . . . a wholesome odor falling off her person and clothes as she walks by: The father, strong, self-sufficient, manly, mean, angered, unjust, The blow, the quick loud word, the tight bargain, the crafty lure, The family usages, the language, the company, the furniture . . . . the yearning and swelling heart, Affection that will not be gainsayed . . . . The sense of what is real . . . . the thought if after all it should prove unreal, The doubts of daytime and the doubts of nighttime . . . . the curious whether and how, Whether that which appears so is so . . . . Or is it all flashes and specks? Men and women crowding fast in the streets . . if they are not flashes and specks what are they? The streets themselves, and the façades of houses. . . . the goods in the windows, Vehicles . . teams . . the tiered wharves, and the huge crossing at the ferries; The village on the highland seen from afar at sunset . . . . the river between, Shadows . . aureola and mist . . light falling on roofs and gables of white or brown, three miles off, The schooner near by sleepily dropping down the tide . . the little boat slacktowed astern, The hurrying tumbling waves and quickbroken crests and slapping; The strata of colored clouds . . . . the long bar of maroontint away solitary by itself . . . . the spread of purity it lies motionless in, The horizon's edge, the flying seacrow, the fragrance of saltmarsh and shoremud; These became part of that child who went forth every day, and who now goes and will always go forth every day, And these become of him or her that peruses them now.

Sarah Rae

Brian Minter: New perennials that can add magic to any shade garden

Last week I wrote about some of the trees and shrubs that add quiet charm to shade gardens. There are, however, many new perennials that can add magic to any such garden. I’m a huge fan of year-round beauty, and this is where perennials make such a great contribution.

In coastal areas, evergreen euphorbias, with their unique foliage, are just now coming into bloom. Their vibrant, hot lime flowers will last for weeks. Euphorbia characias Glacier Blue (rated Zone 7) has those much-coveted blue-toned leaves edged in white. Ascot Rainbow is one of the hardiest, and its green, yellow and red-tinged new growth is particularly attractive. One of my favourites is Shorty, a compact, pure-blue-foliaged variety with lime flowers that pop in spring. Euphorbias prefer dappled or lighter shade, and they’re also a great choice for containers.

Evergreen heucheras provide, by far, the widest range of colours. From the hottest limes and the darkest burgundies to beautiful caramels and everything in-between, they’re the colour stars. The more native heucherellas are a little tougher (hardy to Zone 5), and they develop magnificent colour patterns on their foliage. The darlings of containers, heucheras and heucherellas flower in spring with tiny, spiky, white or pink double flowers on long stems, and remarkably, all their foliage changes colour throughout the year, especially when temperatures fluctuate from warm to cool. Also part of this same family, hardy native tiarellas (foamflower) tolerate Zone 4 climates. Current breeding programs are developing beautiful colour patterns on the foliage of new tiarellas. All these plants need well-draining, light soils with a little bark mulch worked in. They don’t perform well in heavy, clay soils.

Folks often forget about using grasses for shady locations, which is a shame because the huge carex family will provide year-round beauty. Some of the most popular varieties have been branded appropriately with the term Evercolor. Growing 18 inches wide and tall, in winter the hot lime foliage of C. Everillo glows like sunshine. Evergold, with its soft yellow and green-edged leaves, is the most well-known variety, and C. Everlite has cream coloured leaves with dark green edges. These grasses are hardy to Zone 5, and like heucheras, are best planted in groupings of three or more. They also make fabulous container plants.

Although not evergreen, Japanese forest grass (hakonechloa) is in a class by itself. It grows 18 inches tall and wide, is hardy to Zones 5 and 6, has a soft flowing habit and performs well in dry shade and even in quite dark situations. Hakonechloa All Gold and H. Aureola add golden colour to lift shady areas. Sunflare, discovered in B.C., has rich golden foliage with burgundy tips.

Columbines have a long history in shade gardens, but they’re also more sun tolerant than most folks realize. The tall, older varieties have been replaced with more compact (14 to 18 inches) options. The Aquilegia Winky series offers exceptional, longer-lasting double, semi-double and single blooms, and the colour range and number of bicolours is outstanding. My other favourite is the Kirigami series. It’s more compact (12 inches), comes in double, single and bicolour upward facing blossoms and blooms far longer. Pollinators are highly attracted to these new varieties.

No old-fashioned English garden would be complete without the magic of foxgloves (digitalis). Today, they too are changing. Growing anywhere from two to three feet, the Dalmation series, an introduction from Kieft Seeds, has won top awards in German trials for their strong habit, long flowering and distinct pure colours. Candy Mountain, with its speckled rosy-pink blossoms, is the first foxglove from seed to have upward-facing flowers. This year there are lots of new varieties.

Bleeding hearts are another old-fashioned charmer that has come a long way. I love the golden foliage of the pink flowering Gold Heart. The new Dicentra spectabilis Valentine, originally bred in B.C., has puffy, pure red, heart-shaped flowers with white dangling tips. King of Hearts is one of the new sun and heat tolerant varieties, but it’s still quite at home in partially shaded areas. Dicentra Luxuriant, D. Fire Island and Dicentra eximia all have beautiful fern-like foliage to enjoy once the flowers have finished. A collection of different varieties makes a wonderful addition to shady or partially sunny locations.

I’ll never forget the late-renowned British gardener Christopher Lloyd coming to our garden and making the statement that he, unequivocally, didn’t like astilbes. Unfortunately, it was June, and we had hundreds of them in bloom throughout the garden. I was quite relieved and delighted when, at the end of the tour, he said, “You’ve changed my mind on astilbes.” Today, with so many varieties, sizes (from ground covers to tall forms) and differing bloom times, astilbes are a must for shady spots, where they will perform longer if they get lots of water. I particularly love the Visions series for its compact growth (15 inches), its Zone 4 hardiness, its light fragrance and its very full, robust clumps of flowers in many colours.

Brunneras are some of today’s hottest shade plants. From the original B. Jack Frost, with its speckled silver and green foliage, and the vibrant silver of B. Silver Heart, many new introductions continue to impress. Last year’s new introductions (both hardy to Zone 3), B. Jack of Diamonds and Queen of Hearts, with their enormous, impressive leaves, have really changed the game. These dry shade jewels, with their early flowering, blue, forget-me-not type flowers and silver leaves, add vibrancy to shade gardens.

Our grandmothers had old-fashioned pulmonarias in their gardens that had speckled green and silver leaves and bloomed early with pink and blue flowers. Unfortunately, they were susceptible to mildew. New varieties, like P. Majeste, Pretty in Pink and Mrs. Moon, are mildew resistant, hardy to Zone 3 and keep their impressive foliage all summer.

Another forgotten favourite is barrenwort or epimedium. One of the best collections I’ve seen is at Van Dusen Gardens where it’s used as an underplanting to accent many of their shade-loving shrubs. Hardy to Zone 5, they have tiny, starlike flowers in pink, red, white and yellow, and beautiful foliage that turns a lovely bronze later in the season.

If it’s a showpiece you need, the larger ligularias, with their huge leaves in green or burgundy and striking yellow flower spikes or clusters, are ideal candidates. Hardy to Zone 3, they make a spectacular wow display.

One of the shining beacons of colour in any shade garden is the 2020 Plant of the Year: Aralia cordata Sun King. Growing up to three feet and hardy to Zone 3, Sun King is a huge, tropical-looking, golden foliaged wonder that lights up any shady corner.

As we move into late summer and fall, we tend to lose a lot of the colour in our gardens. That is when Japanese anemones play such a key role. Hardy to Zone 4 and coming in shades of pink and white, they begin to flower in August and continue well into frost with massive displays of colour. The older varieties grow three to four feet tall and are still one of the best garden plants. More compact varieties are available, but the larger varieties carry the day. Pure white A. Honorine Jobert is my favourite.

This is just a partial list of the many stunning perennials that will light up any shade garden. The old concept that shade can be challenging is dispelled by these and many other magnificent shade-loving perennials. All the pollinators, butterflies and hummingbirds will be grateful if you can add these special plants to your shade garden.

Brian Minter: New perennials that can add magic to any shade garden published first on https://weedkillerguide.tumblr.com/

To save Appalachia’s endangered mussels, scientists hatched a bold plan

The emergency surgery took place in the back of a modified pickup truck in a McDonald’s parking lot in Pikeville, Ky. This scrappy plan to rescue a species of mussel on the edge of extinction made perfect sense: Meet somewhere between Indian Creek in Virginia, where the last known wild golden riffleshells lived, and Kentucky’s Center for Mollusk Conservation in Frankfort, where they would be saved.

The strategy was a malacologist’s version of a Hail Mary pass. One scientist would gingerly pry open three golden riffleshells and remove their larvae to be nurtured in his lab. The other would return the three mussels to Indian Creek, and wait for the day he could introduce their grown offspring to the same habitat. If the plan didn’t produce enough offspring to sustain a new population, the mussels would probably vanish.

Five years ago, Indian Creek was the only known remaining habitat for the golden riffleshell (Epioblasma florentina aureola). And like many other mussels, this bivalve’s future looked bleak. Biologists estimated that only about 100 remained in the wild. “They were the next species on the list for disappearing from the face of the Earth,” says biologist Tim Lane, who leads mussel recovery efforts at the Virginia Department of Wildlife Resources’ Aquatic Wildlife Conservation Center, near Marion. “We were literally watching the last of them.”

Seeing a species vanish in real time is difficult, he says, and is in some ways worsened by the mussels’ near-invisibility beneath the surface. “They’re not charismatic like, say, the northern white rhino,” he says. When mussels go extinct, almost no one knows — or mourns them.

The survival of mussel 6420 and thousands of its siblings started with an interstate rescue plan hatched by biologist Tim Lane.Gary Peeples/USFWS

An avid amateur photographer who takes pictures of mollusks, snails, fish and various other small critters in the wild, Lane spends much of his time floating facedown in Appalachian waterways, suspended over rocky riverbeds like a float in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. He came up with the plan and carried out phase one: delicately prying the bivalves from the Indian Creek river-bed and laying them in a cooler filled with pebbles, dirt and river water for the 90-minute trip to Kentucky.

A full-grown golden riffleshell is about the size of a small biscuit, with a yellowy, fan-shaped case. Like other mussels, it anchors itself in gravel with a fleshy foot and rarely moves more than a few meters during its lifetime, which could last 15 years or more. The sedentary creatures have been listed as a federally endangered species since 1977.

Malacologists, like Lane and others who study mollusks, are accustomed to championing underdogs. More than two-thirds of all identified North American freshwater mussel species are extinct or endangered. North America has the greatest diversity of freshwater mussels — with a heavy concentration in the Southeast. Tennessee’s Clinch River hosts about twice as many species as all of Europe.

In every locale, the mussels’ problems arise from a mix of factors. Until about a century ago, enormous mussel populations thrived in the Midwest and Southeast, and mussels were often harvested to make shell buttons. But the construction of dams in major rivers divided these populations and separated the creatures from the fish that carry their larvae. “The dams suffocated the huge mussel beds in the most productive habitats,” says Paul Johnson, who runs Alabama’s Aquatic Biodiversity Center, in Perry County.

Adding insult to injury, rampant pollution from industrial dumping and chemical spills led to massive die-offs before the 1972 Clean Water Act led to cleaner waterways. The animals have faced other threats, too, including microbial pathogens and predators.

Just last December, more than 150 kilometers downstream of the confluence of Indian Creek and the Clinch, biologists with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service reported a massive die-off of pheasantshells (Actinonaias pectorosa) where the river passes through the town of Kyles Ford, Tenn. The researchers suspect some pathogenic fungi, bacteria or parasites are to blame. Myriad species in Europe and the Pacific Northwest, including the freshwater pearl mussel (Margaritifera margaritifera) and the depressed river mussel (Pseudanodonta complanata), have experienced similar die-offs.

Against that backdrop of known and unknown hazards, researchers around the world are combining in vitro propagation, months of tedious observation and exhaustive laboratory trial and error to save these animals. But none of these evolving methods offer a quick fix.

“It took us 100 years to get into this mess,” Johnson says. “It’s not going to take 10 to get out of it.”

A small group of biologists is getting creative to save freshwater mussels, animals that do a yeoman’s job of cleaning rivers.Gary Peeples/USFWS

River cleaners

Those who study and try to save mussels feel an irresistible calling, says Jessi DeMartini, a biologist in Illinois who works on mussel conservation in the Forest Preserve District of DuPage County. “It’s an addiction … that becomes a passion.” They see mollusks as the uncelebrated heroes of the world’s rivers.

Mollusk shells stabilize riverbeds and create habitats for other creatures. The bivalves provide food to raccoons, muskrats and other critters. Most importantly, mollusks are nature’s water filters, able to clean up big messes.

A single mussel can filter more than 50 liters of water per day, removing algae and pollution, including toxic substances dumped into rivers as industrial waste. Some researchers suspect that the ability to sop up toxic metals is contributing to the animals’ decline. Like canaries in coal mines, if a mussel population suddenly plummets, it’s a sign that something’s gone foul in the water. (Malacologists describe the smell of a living mussel as rich and sweet, like the river it comes from. But find a dead mussel and the stench is so bad you’d wish you had been born without a sense of smell.)

50+

liters

Amount of water a single mussel can filter in a day

By observing the health of juvenile mussels and analyzing tissue samples, researchers can effectively monitor water quality and acute die-offs, Monte McGregor, director of Kentucky’s Center for Mollusk Conservation, and others reported in December 2019 in Freshwater Science.

The effort to save mussels has implications far beyond the rural and rugged riverways of Appalachia. More than two-thirds of U.S. homes get their drinking water from rivers, Johnson notes. Mussels provide an inexpensive way to safeguard that resource and do some of the work of water treatment plants. “Mussels allow us to provide cleaner water on a less per-cost basis,” he says.

For all these reasons, conservation biologists keep returning to the rivers and take hope where they can find it. The golden riffleshell has been particularly vexing. To even begin the process of mussel propagation, which has a high rate of failure, biologists typically need to start with larvae, also known as glochidia. The golden riffleshell’s dwindling numbers mean that finding a gravid female — one filled with glochidia — is a rare occasion. But on an April morning in 2016, hope came with a find by Sarah Colletti, a mussel-loving biologist also at Virginia’s Aquatic Wildlife Conservation Center. Colletti had joined a small squad of biologists who donned tall rubber waders and spent hours hunched over viewscopes, which look like toy telescopes, pointed down into water to make it easy to tell rocks from mussels. Colletti was scanning the bottom of Indian Creek as part of what’s become an annual ritual, the search for the last remaining golden riffleshells.

Biologist Sarah Colletti found three gravid golden riffleshell females in Virginia’s Indian Creek in 2016, setting off a chain of events that might give the endangered species a chance at survival.G. Peeples/USFWS

It’s a monotonous pursuit, she says, and “you’re second-guessing every rock.” When a mussel comes into view, “it’s kind of shocking.”

Through her viewscope, Colletti spotted three golden riffleshells nestled among the rocks and silt. All were females displaying their lure, a section of tissue that resembles a tasty meal. Those exposed lures meant the mussels were gravid, ready to release millions of glochidia. Finding three gravid females was unusual. The biologists saw an opportunity — maybe one of the last — to help.

Alluring display

Just getting to the larval stage is an accomplishment for these bivalves. Eggs become fertilized only when females filter sperm released into the water by upstream males.

Glochidia, each the size of a grain of salt, can’t survive on their own. They have to clamp onto the gills of a host fish and become parasitic passengers, embedding themselves in the gill tissue and thriving on a mix of nutrients in the water and in fish blood until undergoing a kind of metamorphosis.

As mussels grow their first shells and become juveniles, they swell to the size of a well-fed deer tick, then drop from the fish. For each species of mussel, there’s often only one — or at most, a few — species of fish that can ferry larvae to the next stage of life.

Mussels have evolved a staggering array of methods for infesting fish; almost all involve deception. Some mussels disguise their glochidia in alluring packages that look like minnows; others unspool wormlike appendages tipped with packets holding millions of larvae. The rainbow mussel (Villosa iris) has a lure that looks like a crawfish skittering along the river floor. When a fish tries to eat the minnow or worm or crawfish, the fish gets a mouthful of glochidia, released like dandelion seeds. With the fish’s next gulp of water, the glochidia wash over the gills and stick.

What looks like a tasty, spotted minnow is actually part of a Lampsilis mussel. When a fish goes in for a bite of this lure, it inhales a mouthful of mussel larvae that attach to the fish’s gills and grow into juveniles.M. Christopher Barnhart

Members of the genus Epioblasma, including the golden riffleshell, have perfected a tactic that earned them the nickname “fish snapper.” The ritual begins when a mother mussel sends out a short thread, the end of which looks like a bug. When a hungry fish swims in for a bite, the shell snaps shut around the fish’s head and holds tight with short, sharp teeth just inside the shell’s rim. As the fish chokes, it inhales the glochidia, which install themselves in the gills. After a few minutes, the mussel relaxes and releases its captive. The fish that survive are stunned; smaller fish (which aren’t good hosts anyway) may die, their heads crushed by the mollusk’s snap.

The handoff

All the pieces of this choreographed sequence — fertilization to glochidia formation to infestation of a host — have to happen in just the right way, says McGregor, who with fellow Kentucky biologist Leroy Koch was waiting at the McDonald’s for Lane to arrive. “There are lots of strikes against these mussels,” he says. “The glochidia have to hit the right fish at the right time.”

Ideally, mussels would reproduce on their own and people wouldn’t have to intervene. Malacologists step in when a species looks like it’s on the brink of extinction.

A snuffbox mussel snaps shut on the head of a rainbow darter, giving the snuffbox larvae, or glochidia, enough time to attach to the fish’s gills.M. Christopher Barnhart

A closeup photo shows nearly clear glochidia of an oyster mussel attached to the pink gills of a logperch.M. Christopher Barnhart

That morning in April, Colletti marked the location of the mussels in the stream with three large stones and a bright orange flag. She phoned Lane, who had spent much of graduate school studying the diversity of life in Appalachian rivers. The golden riffleshell always seemed to be foundering. In previous years, when they found gravid females in Indian Creek, Lane and colleagues had attempted streamside infestations: catching host fish and manually transferring glochidia from the mussel into the fish gills. But the approach didn’t work.

Lane called McGregor, who was well-known in the close-knit malacology community for having pioneered in vitro approaches to bring bivalves back. Biologists have sent him glochidia in test tubes via UPS and FedEx; he’s also been known to drive for hours to secure the larvae. At Kentucky’s Center for Mollusk Conservation, he closely monitors the temperature and quality of the water that flows through the lab, and he makes his own food for the mussels — often customizing a recipe to fit the needs of a species. After Lane called and proposed the plan, McGregor agreed to meet in Pikeville and carry out the glochidia-removing procedure in what he calls his “mobile lab” (the topped bed of his Ford F-250 super duty crew cab).

Surgery took no more than 30 minutes per mussel. McGregor pried open the shell about five millimeters with his fingers, and used a silicone wedge to keep it open. Then, he filled a syringe with sterile water and flushed out the glochidia from the mussels into a lab dish. All the while, he had to pay attention to the patient and keep it cool.

 “You have to handle the mussel properly,” McGregor says. If the animal gets too warm, that could imperil both the larvae and the mother.

Once the procedure was over, Lane replaced the mussels in the cooler and drove east to return them to Indian Creek. McGregor drove west, escorting thousands of golden rifflleshell larvae over 260 kilometers of twisting mountain roads, to the mussel recovery operation with the longest track record for propagating mussels in the lab without host fish. This would be the golden riffleshell’s best chance at survival.

Take me to the river

For nearly 20 years, researchers at the Kentucky facility have worked on bringing mussels back from the brink of extinction. The small collection of buildings sits near Elkhorn Creek, but McGregor says the water is often too polluted to use for the tanks that hold mussels during the most sensitive part of their development. The pollutants include raw sewage. “We can’t grow mussels in raw sewage,” he says.

If such a thing as “artisanal algae” exists, it’s surely the stuff grown in this lab. Researchers grow algal cultures in giant incubators. McGregor has grown many algal varieties and has spent years matching the right algal slime to the right mussel.

Biologists have developed methods of propagating endangered mussel species in the lab, even without the host fish. To remove glochidia, scientists first pry open the shell.T. Lane

Then a scientist holds open the mussel shell with a silicone wedge to flush out the larvae with sterile water.T. Lane

McGregor learned the basics of in vitro propagation in 2004 from Robert Hudson, a malacologist at Presbyterian College in Clinton, S.C. By 2016, McGregor had spent more than a decade improving his recipe, finding the right mix of algae, nutrients and rabbit serum to feed glochidia. Although he prefers to use host fish to grow mussels — and the lab contains dozens of tanks that hold fish as hosts for some other species — scientists have so far been unable to identify the fish that can carry golden riffleshell larvae (which is why streamside infestation doesn’t work).

So McGregor had to grow the larvae without a host. After 18 days in an incubator with McGregor’s custom-made mussel-growing cocktail, about 1,600 larvae survived to become juveniles. They were transferred to silt-lined raceways with cool flowing water to simulate a river. Within a few months, the glochidia had grown to the size of nickels — large enough to survive in the wild.

McGregor divided the spoils. “It was too risky for me to keep them all,” he says. He sent groups of mussels back over the mountains to two facilities in Virginia. One is the Aquatic Wildlife Conservation Center, where Colletti and colleagues have been studying and cultivating the bivalves. In a typical year, researchers there release up to 10,000 lab-grown mussels into the wild, representing up to 10 species.

Colletti says she sees signs of hope for the golden riffleshell. Today, the progeny of those three mussels she found in 2016 are producing their own glochidia in the lab. “They were able to become gravid in captivity,” she says. Lane recently sent photos of those larval grandchildren to McGregor. Colletti and Lane hope the young mussels released into the river will do as well.

There are other, scattered success stories emerging from recent mussel projects. Johnson, in Alabama, has spent years studying the pale lilliput (Toxolasma cylindrellus).

After more than two years of work, Johnson pegged the northern studfish (Fundulus catenatus), which looks like a larger, prettier version of a minnow, as the pale lilliput’s host. Once he made that connection, Johnson began to infest a host fish to cultivate new populations of the endangered species.

There are also big risks. Last year, Johnson propagated about 5,000 juveniles of the rare Louisiana pearshell mussel (Margaritifera hembeli). But just before he was going to release juveniles into a Louisiana river, disaster struck. On an unusually hot spring morning, the temperature of the water streaming into his facility’s raceways soared, killing thousands of the mussels before a researcher could close the valve. “One bad day can literally wreck several years of work,” Johnson says.

He was left with only about 100 animals to return to nature. But those animals have been thriving in the lab. Johnson has grown new batches and plans to restore them to their natural habitat next year. It’s too soon to declare victory, he says, but he’s hopeful.

This gravid golden riffleshell began as a larva in Indian Creek, grew up in a Kentucky lab and is now in a Virginia lab. Its parted shell reveals pouches containing tiny larvae ready to infest an unwitting host fish.T. Lane

The ultimate goal in mussel conservation, Johnson says, is to propagate animals that can complete an entire life cycle. That means glochidia get to the host fish, survive the tumultuous juvenile years and mature enough to reproduce. In the wild, the whole process takes a few weeks to a few months. In the lab, the timescale is bigger. “It’s a decadeslong effort,” he says.

Hundreds of the next generation of golden riffleshells are now back at home, with two populations in the Clinch River and one in Indian Creek since 2017. These mussels now measure about the size of a quarter, though some are bigger. Of the 700 that Lane, Colletti and others installed in the wild, many have died and some are unaccounted for, but the researchers estimate that about 300 are still alive.

The scientists placed transponders on about 100 of the mussels, and every year Lane and Colletti return for a census, waving a device that looks like a metal detector over the water surface and waiting for the satisfying chirp that indicates a lab-grown riffleshell is found.

For now, the rescue of the golden riffleshell remains a good news story, but Lane says malacologists have to remain vigilant. “This gives us some time, but it’s not like we can pat ourselves on the back and stop.” To ensure the survival of the species, biologists will need to continue harvesting glochidia, shepherding mussels to the juvenile stage and returning them to the wild, year after year. The ultimate goal is to build a population that can sustain itself and reproduce without human intervention, rabbit serum or emergency surgery outside a rural McDonald’s.

from Tips By Frank https://www.sciencenews.org/article/endangered-mussels-appalachia-rivers-biologists-conservation-plan

The yellow-breasted bunting songbird (Emberiza aureola) is in danger of extinction. Research published in 2015 by the scientific journal, Conservation Biology, shows the yellow-breasted bunting population plunged by nearly 90 per cent from 1980 to 2013. The journal drew parallels between this migratory bird and the North American passenger pigeon which became extinct in 1914 due to industrial-scale hunting. A bird that was one of the most abundant in Europe and Asia is falling victim to diners and traders due to unchecked poaching in southern China. 

According to the Hong Kong Bird Watching Society, only 60,000 to 300,000 of these birds remain in the wild. The current ban against hunting the birds in China dates back to 1997 yet the demand for consumption of the birds has increased with economic growth and prosperity in China and the region, with an estimate in 2001 claiming 1m buntings were consumed in Guangdong province alone. Known in the country as the “rice bird,” its natural habitat is in rice paddies and fields where it helps to control pests. The birds breed north of the Himalayas and spend their winters in warmer southeast Asia, passing through southern China to rest on the way. As they gather in huge flocks at night-time roosts, they become easy prey for farmers and trappers using nets. The result is that many of the birds fail to return their breeding grounds across eastern Europe, Siberia, and Japan.

Sources: The Guardian, South China Morning Post, Quartz, Birdingbeijing blog

huge aureola

Part.1 The Demonic Realm is quite straightforward. Think of it as a firm whose aim is to rake in as much sin as they can. It's their currency. And yes their direct competition is a Divine Realm thriving on benevolence. The agents of both realms blend in with human society and meddle with the lives of everyday people to serve the interest of their own kind. Not to bore you with the details but here is a quick overview of the Demonic Realm: There are Major, Superior and Inferior Demons which indicate their potential for harm (there is also the supremes but you're unlikely to cross paths with one. They can not manifest physically in the human world, least they destroyed it). They assume various functions, pretty much like the human society (and yes they have demonic IT guys… If you have ever dealt with an IT service you don't need any proof). And there are seven main branches. One per deadly sin, obviously. You'd think gay clubs and bar would attract Lust demons and you'd be right. But what Landon was looking that night was a Greed Demon. And he couldn't tear his eyes from it. It was a Hunter Greed Demon to be precise. A Bloodhound trained to track greed in men's hearts and nurture it to cash in a much sin as they could. Think of it as a demonic salesman. There's an army of them trying to feed of our worst traits (just like ad there's an army of Hunter Angels trying to turn us into self-righteous dicks. Yes, they both suck). The demon seated at the bar had picked Greed because it was fun. One day you'd be messing with traders in the finance district, the next you'd be taking care of a fat bastard at all you can eat buffet. Greed was so deeply rooted in mankind and took so many forms that it knew it would never get bored and that it could find more exotic forms of greed to have fun once in awhile. Landon was seated alone at a small table in a corner of the bar. The demon had smelt his greed a few weeks ago while bursting a few speculative bubbles in the financial district (resulting in five bankrupt firms, two burnouts and one jumper, that would earn him quite a nice bonus this month). Landon was a trader, 32 years old stag fag, cute though unremarkable. What interested the demon was Landon's recently found obsession with growing muscle. He fancied that getting more muscular would make him loveable. Or at least more fuckable. Over the last few months he had started working out, dieting, supplementing and he was wearing what meager gains he had achieved as a badge of honor. The demon immediately took an interest in him. Not that he would get much sin out of Landon but it would be fun. It had assumed a form specially designed for Landon. And it worked. Landon had his eyes glued to it from across the room. Eye fucking the demon, drinking in the sight, recording the images for later fantasies. It was stunning. In his late thirties, 6'4 tall, around 230lbs of muscle with just a tiny bit of bodyfat to make it look comfortable and powerful. The mass was sumptuously distributed. It wasn't an athletic body, it was a pure porno body, sculpted for sex. The worn out jeans were skin tight, putting the emphasis on its powerful legs and huge round ass. The tight waist flared into a powerful torso with broad shoulders and almost disproportionately huge arms. The white t-shirt was hugging every inch of it and highlighting the massive pecs. Two fat nipples clearly visible pointing downwards, the dark wide aureola contrasting through the flimsy white fabric. A bull-thick neck stretching the collar supported a face that had Landon totally engrossed. It was clearly modeled to look like an Arabian man. The deep olive skintone, thick jet black hair with a few grey ones buzzed short on the side with a short fauxhawk on the top. Square features enhanced by his perfectly styled stubble, wide smiling mouth with a plump lower lips, strong nose and eyes like polished onyx adorned with dark lashes and crowned with extra thick perfectly shaped black brows. It was looking at Landon with a sly smile. Landon was comparatively small and unremarkable. 5'9, 185 lbs, mousy brown hair, dirty green eyes. Though he was definitely a handsome man he didn't stand out in crowd. He also wasn't used to be noticed, so when he realized the Man he had been staring a was looking back and smiling he panicked and looked down. He felt beads of sweat form on his forehead and his sweat levels go through the roof as he was flushed with embarrassment. When he finally lifted his head to look up, the Demon had crossed the room and was standing on the other side of the table. Landon was staring directly at the Demon's obscenely bulging fly. Landon dried, as all the moisture his body could generate was currently in his briefs. He looked up, the generous pecs partly hid the magnificent face but a predatory smile could still be seen. He gracefully moved around the table and sat right next to Landon invading his personal space. Its gorgeous face going to his ears, its juicy pecs brushing against him, its heat radiating on his skin. “Hello cutie I'm Damon" Its voice was deep, warm and husky. Landon hesitated for a moment, not sure he heard its name right. The first syllable sounded off. But his brain quickly shoved that thought aside. “I'm Landon." he said. Damon smiled, looking tenderly atLandon. He could taste the man's greed. An exotic greed, fresh, newly formed. An obsession for muscle and size. A compulsive need for more. More muscle, more food, more cock, more manliness, more sex, more size. A bottomless pit. A perpetual motion machine. Whatever little gains made calling for a bigger one. It wasn't just the grueling workouts, the overeating, the race for calories. Now that it was close, Damon smelt other things. Landon had recently botoxed his scrotum and gotten hyaluronic acid in his dick. He had skipped a couple months of saving for retirement to get penile enhancement. Landon's greed was phenomenal. Damon had hit jackpot. It was easy for Damon to lure Landon to it's den. A few flirty words, an ushered invitation and Landon was ready to follow the hunky demon anywhere. Just two streets away from the bar, Damon pulled out a key and opened the entrance of an apartment building. Had Landon not been starring at the glorious massive ass of Damon, he'd have noticed the key looked too old and didn't match the modern keyhole. Or that the entrance they stepped through was too large to belong to the building he thought he had walked in. He might have even noticed that he had entered an alternate dimension. Damon was amazed at how easy that was. Lust Demons really had it easy. Be attractive enough and humans will throw themselves off cliffs without even giving it a second thought. Plus having a sexualized body was feeling nice. It usually assumed the unremarkable appearance of a average human male or female, not bothering with details like nipples or genitalia or body hair. The body it was wearing tonight was designed to be seen and desired. Though it was mostly a facade, the muscle mass made it feel dynamic and strong. The way it bounced and flexed was addictive. A big fat cock with a set of extra large balls was nestled in its briefs between its thick thighs. It was the first time he gave himself genitalia, and to be honest he'd have to do it more often. Especially having a dick. It felt ridiculously good, and it realized the bigger it made its dick the more satisfying it felt . It had to reel in and keep itself in check to avoid being too much of a freak. Damon's apartment was gigantic (space is much more malleable in the underworld) it looked like a French Haussmannian interior (just look it up) everything was the same shade of clinical white. Like some 3d designer carefully sculpted the whole thing but forgot to put a texture on it. He led Landon to the living room dominated by a huge lush sofa on which Damon was sprawled. Its powerful legs opened to put its massive basket on display. He patted the spot next to him inviting Landon. Landon sat a respectful foot away from Damon, visibly ill at ease, stiff on the edge of the sofa. "Aw for fuck sake" Damon growled rolling his eyes. He closed the distance between it and Landon grabbed the back of the man's head and french kissed him. Landon was overwhelmed by the soft lips of Damon, its scruffy stubble and powerful tongue. His hand slowly found Damon's body and he started caressing the big muscular demon. It was his first time with someone this size and it felt (ironically) like heaven to him. He loved it, he wanted to be like this himself so much. The experience was pleasant to Damon too but what was getting it off was the Greed inside Landon. It just needed to enter a pact with Landon and it would soon be rewarded by a tsunami of greed. Abandoning any subtlety, Damon got up. Its 13'' boner was leaving a serious dickprint on its jeans. It took off its shirt and threw it away revealing his powerful torsos glorious pecs. Its mouthwatering pecs ever so slightly dragged down by their own obscene weight toward the perfectly carved abs. Landon was looking at him overcome with disbelief, joy, lust and envy. He couldn't function anymore, he needed to be as muscular, no, more muscular than Damon. "I know what you need" rasped Damon. “ I know you want to get bigger. You need to. That's why you're killing yourself in the gym. Why you got injections in your dick. Because you want to look like this!" it said, flexing. "Or this!" he added grabbing his dick through its jeans. Landon was about to cry, his face burning, feeling humiliated, anger and jealousy rising inside him. Damon looked down on the human sitting in front of him and chuckled. "Don't get all worked up baby. I'm here to help." Damon cooed, unfastening his fly. “Tell you what... You worship me and I'll give you all the muscle you want, all the dick you want. You want to be a freak? Sure baby I'll make you a freak. Just worship me." It had its jeans around its ankles, a 13 inch wrist thick rock hard uncut cock jutting from a perfectly groom pelvis. Landon was still mistruful of the cocky hunk in front of him, but greed took over. He leant on grabbing the glorious penis, unsheathing it. "Do we have a deal?" said the demon? "Yeah..." Landon said before stuffing his face with as much dick as he could. Damon, growled and felt his knees buckle. He had underestimated Landon's greed. They were just getting started and it was already exceeding what it had anticipated. Plus he was getting head for the first time and he fucking loved it. It could feel the energy flux going both way. Its demonic energy leaving it, fuelling Landon's growth and Landon's greed filling it making its power greater. Like a river flowing in two directions at the same time. He tried to focus back on Landon. Damn his clothes were stretched tight. He was already starting to look like a fitboy. It forcefully pried its dick from Landon, pushing back the man's head with little ceremony. "Undress." it simply ordered. Landon complied, eager to get more from Damon. Landon was already looking like he had been hitting the gym for years. Faint abs showing, little pancake pecs emerging, the hint of a V shape. A decent 6'' inches cut dick was painfully hard and leaking. This was going much faster than Damon planned. Damon shook its jeans and shoes off, it fell back on the couch, lifting its thick slightly hairy legs in the air and spreading them to expose its hole, magnified by the lovely shape of its muscular ass. "How about we take it up a notch?" Damon said. Landon, positioned himself, caressing the powerful legs of Damon and rubbing his cockhead on the demon's hole. It was unlike anything Landon had ever felt, clean, silky, warm and slick like it was already lubed. Landon kindly pushed himself inside Damon. It was unlike anything he had ever felt, the insides of the demon were deliciously smooth and warm, the muscle rings were applying the perfect amount of pressure on his dick. Damon was perfect, flawlessly designed for sex. The intimate connexion between the demon and the greedy human opened, unleashing a tidal wave. Landon's greed making the demon more powerful than it would ever have imagined and Damon's power growing Landon at a worrying pace. Landon's body was starting to resemble a gymrat's. Unbelievable muscular definition,wide shoulders rounding up, bulging biceps, striated triceps, thick forearms, nice thick pecs bouncing up and down as he fucked the demon. Damon felt the strength of the plowing he was receiving augmented as Landon's ass became more muscular and defined. The demon was delighted to feel Landon's penis grow inside it, the stretching feeling was utterly amazing. It reminded Damon how it had wanted to give itself a freakishly big dick. It let its own penis fattened and lengthen beyond what was humanly possible. Landon looked in disbelief as the magnificent uncut dick reached the thickness of the demon thighs and a sufficient length for him to suck on it it while he fucked the demon. He obviously obliged giving the demon a blowjob while he pounded his ass. Landon adjusted his stance, his thighs were getting too thick and his balls too fat and hanging too low. His 10'' dick wrecking the now distended demon hole, making obscene wet noises with the piston motion and the gallon of pre coating its insides. Landon was almost as big as a bodybuilder. His thick pecs casting a shadow on his rock hard abs. His shoulders striated and overblown with muscle, arms now too thick to bend entirely. He was constantly shifting and changing his stance to accommodate the mass that added to his frame, his bones were stretching to accommodate the onslaught of mass packing on his body. It was all too much for him, for both of them. Landon started pumping his load in the demon. Thrusting harder, harder and harder trying to pour his seed as deep as he could. Meanwhile Damon's mind exploded as it's power reached that of a Major Demon. As new powers and knowledge flooded its mind Landon semen flooded its inside. Its mind was wrapped in a warm lush blanket and as it experienced human male orgasmed for the first time it drifted into a deep much needed blissful sleep. On the other hand Landon who had been prone to sleep immediately after orgasm, resisted the hormonal tide quite well. Despite feeling week in the knees and hisdick softening, he was still mostly awake. He pulled out from the demon, the gross suction noise it made was accompanied by a ungodly amount of cum cascading from the demon distended but rapidly recovering hole. Had it been awake it would have regretted choosing a white sofa. Landon was still reeling from all the muscle and power he had filled with. He was monstrous 6'8 (2m7) and 328 lbs (149kg). He had 20'' arms(51cm) and his glorious pecs got his chest to a glorious 55''(1m40) while his waist remained barely thicker than his arms at a mind boggling 25'' (65cm). He was in a haze, like he was severely drunk, and answering to his automatic habit of dressing up and leaving after hooking up. He grabbed his underwear,vaguely aware his 9'' softy and lemon sized balls would never fit. Still he was surprised to feel them rip and disintegrate in his hands as he yanked them to pull them over his now gigantic quads. He discarded them and tried to pull on his jeans and T-shirt. The waist of the jeans resisted despite several threads popping, the seams of the quads and calves burst open as soon as he moved and his tee ripped on both sides, on the back and the sleeves were purely destroyed as he awkwardly put his clothes on. He stumbled toward the exit of the flat with just tatters on his back. A few minutes later the front door of the building spat him back into the real world. It was well past noon when Damon woke up. A reddish sunlight bathing the surreally white living room. Its 2ft morning wood dripping a steady trickle of warm pre on its chin, it shifted, stretching enjoying the feeling of its hard dick and its sore rectum. A satisfied smile on its lips Damon got to its feet, thinking it might keep this body for while(though he'd have to get his penis to a more manageable size). He rummaged through its discarded jeans to check its phone. It had received a shitload of messages. Damons smile grew wider as it went through countless messages congratulating him on becoming a Major Demon. In the middle of all those message was one from the Central Demonic Administration (CDeA not to be mistaken with CDia which is the Central Divine Administration). It requested Damon to register its familiar. As the pieces of the evening fell back in place its smile faded. He realized that Landon left its place leaving just a destroyed pair of briefs behind. It had its incubus on the loose. It was accountable for him. It was supposed to register him to CDeA and it was potentially responsible for a risk of exposure to humans. It was in deepshit trouble. "hu..fuuuuuuck" Damon whined. Part.2 A common misconception about incubi is that they are beings transitioning to demonhood. They are actually power reservoirs for demons, sin generators if you will. They are beings generating massive amount of Sin naturally that get enhanced by demonic energy, turning them into Sin factories to which demons tether to grow their power. They fall in the familiar category and as such they have to be declared to the Demonic Authorities and removed from their homeworld to be safely stashed into the Demonic Realm. ________________ Landon awoke a little before noon, still sticky from last night trade. Grossly comfy rolled in his blanket curled in a ball so that his feet didn’t dangle from the bedframe (which was unusual for him). His dick was rock hard, rubbing against his abs. He absentmindedly rubbed himself and was soon rewarded by roughly 3 cups of hot spunk, spreading on his belly, soaking through his blanket and mattress. Landon immediately regretted his orgasm as he realized he had ruined his bed. He tried to stand up and discard his blanket at the same time. He had a moment of vertigo as he stood up his full 6’8 (2m7 almost a foot taller than usual). He stumbled to maintain his balance, his rapidly deflating monstercock now free from the blanket burrito swayed between his legs sending fat drips of cum crashing noisily on the floor, carpet and nightstand. -”Fuck” he groaned looking at the mess he made. Landon was breathing hard, everything felt smaller than used to. His body was feeling heavy and stiff. His arms were pushing against his lats to go to the side of his body, his pecs were heavy on his torso, his genital weighing heavily from his crotch. He was too panicked by those new feelings to register how nice they felt to him. He made his way to his bathroom, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor, his pecs bouncing up and down, his fat slick cock slapping on his thighs. As he turned on the light of the bathroom, his reflection became visible in the mirror. His face was more or less the same, with a very bad case of bed hair, but underneath that, his body was one of a gigantic competitive roided out bodybuilder with a tight waist and heavy cock and balls. The surreal events of the past night resurfaced. The insanely hot middle eastern man, the crazy steamy sex, the growth. It all felt impossible yet the memories were crystal clear and his body was proof enough. Landon was halfway between panic and ecstasy. He had a body he would never have dared dreamt of having but the change was so violent. He explored his body, awkwardly flexing, feeling himself. It wasn’t exactly like the man he fucked last night, Landons was more massive, more ripped, when relaxed it felt firmer and denser. He flexed, it was rock with a soft skin layer on top. As he cupped his pecs, lust took over. His cock inflated, reaching its hard footlong state, his balls dropped an inch lower swelling with seed. Landon stepped in the shower, his wrist-thick hardon leading the way. As he drew the shower curtain he realized how cramped it now felt . He bent as best he could to turn on the water. The sensations were so different from usual. He was so tall and wide that his body blocked the hot water from pouring over both side of his body. He had to turn around to get his back wet. He then grabbed his soap and started worship himself a he cleaned himself. He soon realised he could no longer reach his back, he had to contort to get to his ass to clean it. He was musclebound and it felt amazing. He stroked his dick while he rinsed himself and soon enough he orgasmed in his shower. Pumping a literal gallon of thick cum in his tub. It took him a solid minute to reel in from his earth shattering orgasm. He has basking in the hormone induced bliss occasionally giggling and shivering at the sensory overload. ________ -”What do you mean he’s gone?” She said. She was gorgeous, today she had the appearance of a flaming redhead in her late twenties, long slick deep red hair neatly parted on the side framing a perfectly regular heart-shaped face on which shone two emerald eyes adorned with a sixties’ like trait of black eyeliner. Her body was straight out of a retro pinup calendar and so was her black snakeskin faux vintage dress. She was Damon best friend and one of the most renowned Major Lust Demons, Lamia. -”He left while I was asleep” Damon said. He was feeling embarrassed, Lamia had dropped by his place to congratulate him. If anyone could help get his hand back on Landon it was her. So he had to tell Lamia the whole embarrassing story, and it wasn’t helping that after almost 24h of being in a sexued male body he was starting to think in terms of hes and shes. He hated those simplistic human genders but for now he’d have to roll with it. -”And this is why you leave Lust to Lust demons.” she said flatly after listening to the whole story. “Though I confess you did quite an amazing job creating your body, that is quite the honey pot.” she said with professional appraisal. “I‘d vouch for you. Should you ever apply to a position in the Lust departement… though you’d have to be able to handle an orgasm to work with us.” she said with a wry smile. -”Thanks for the compliment, but if I don’t find Landon fast I won’t be unemployed. I’ll be dead.” -”Landon?! Calling your pet by it’s name! That’s sooooo cute.” she roared with laughter. Damon felt himself blush. One more thing to hate about human bodies. -”Well, that’s quite simple.” she said. “Ignore the CDeA messages for now, they are slow. It’ll take them weeks to notice you’ve lost your unregistered incubus. Assuming he doesn’t make a mess nor does he pose an exposure threat. You’ll just need to retrieve him quickly and bring him back to the underworld with you.” -”That’s all fine and dandy, but how do I find him?” Damon said -”For fuck’s sake, you’re a hunter demon! Finding an incubus in the real world is like hunting a fucking blue whale in a bathtub. The hard part will be getting to him before another hunter demon does...” _________ Towelling up had been an ordeal for Landon but it was nothing compared to dressing up. Landon spent an hour going through his wardrobe before accepting that none of his clothes would decently and/or comfortably fit. None of the clothes that weren’t destroyed in the process of dressing up that is. He ended up wearing an old pair of black lycra pants he bought for the gym but never dared to wear and a grey tank top. The lycra pants were stretched to their limit, his skin was visible through the thinned out fabric. The waist would have been comfy enough if it wasn’t for his huge package pushing at the front. He had to go commando and he was giving major dickprint. The tank top was simply ridiculous, stopping a few inches under his pecs, it looked like a 90’s crop top. But he couldn’t do any better with only his own clothes. Making a phone call wasn’t exactly easy either. Landon managed to make his boss’ number after 5 attempts, his enlarged fingertips pressing multiple numbers every time. He then found out that thanks to his biceps and shoulders he couldn't comfortably get the phone to his ear. He had to put it on speaker. -”Yes Landon, what is it?” came the annoying voice of his boss -”Er, hey Jeremy. Yeah… I might be a bit late this morning.” stuttered Landon “I have a little health issue I need to take care of this morning.” -”You ok? You sound terrible.” said jeremy flatly -”Well I need to get a few things sorted ASAP. But I’m ok, I’m not contagious or anything. I’ll be there mid morning. I’ll catch up those hours.” -”Yeah don’t worry, take your time. See you later.” Jeremy said as he hung up. Landon was relieved, that went better than expected. Given the fact that his boss was the kind of toxic tyrannic power crazed psycho rigid asshole, it definitely went better than expected. As soon as he left the house to go clothes shopping, Landon became conscious of how exposed and obscene he was looking, but also of how hungry he was. He decided to go to his favorite coffee shop on the corner of the street. He was grabbing coffee and breakfast there almost every morning and had a crush on the cute guy taking his order. He was both scared and excited to show his new body to the cutie behind the desk but in the end hunger prevailed. Turned out the cute guy didn’t even recognized him and worst than that, he wasn’t impressed by Landon. Ill at ease, slightly disgusted but definitively not impressed. Landon was sitting on a corner of the coffee shop with a huge ass bucket of coffee and a tray full of pastries (3 cinnamon roll, 4 cream filled donuts and 2 deep fried apple pie pockets) stuffing his face and trying to ignore the off put faces of the patrons and staff. He had polished off his tray in a just few minutes and left in a hurry. His belly had slightly rounded outward with all the food but he wasn't satisfied. All the greed inside him making him want more food to feed his body. On his way to the store he stopped by a fitness and bodybuilding supplement store. As he walked in the guy behind the counter gawked at him. He made his way to a fridge where protein bars and drink were stocked. -”Can I help you dude?” ask the cashier. -”Yeah,” answered Landon “Just had breakfast but it wasn’t really enough. I’m looking for something to get my fill with”. He said rubbing his little belly. -”Well those are non dairy protein drink made for slow absorption it’ll help you feel satiated. And the chocolate peanut butter bars just there are super tasty and will give you a bit of sugar and fast absorption proteins.” said the guy. Landon was looking at the items and at the young guy from the store. His name tag said Garry. Not exactly handsome, or pretty, or cute. Rather ugly actually but the sort of ugly guy that groomed and styled himself thoroughly and hit the gym religiously hoping that beefing up would get them laid. An excellent strategy Landon thought, he had a soft spot for that kind of guy. He guessed Garry was around 190 lbs of shredded muscle. He felt himself start to chub. -”Sounds cool, I’ll have both.” he said while grabbing a gallon of the drink and dozen of chocolate bars. They proceed to the counter, Garry literally drooling over the massive Landon. Landon paid while chewing on two protein bars at the same time. -”Mind If I drink a bit now? I really need it.” Landon said uncorking the gallon of protein drink. The cashiers shook his head as Landon started chugging down the thick sickening vanilla flavored drink. Garry had come around from behind the desk and was standing next to Landon watching in awe as the muscle giant’s belly stretched further. He laid his hand on Landon unable to resist the god in front of him. Landon looked down on his little worshipper and raised and flexed an arm. Garry moaned and suddenly he was aware of the monster tenting Landon’s lycra. He stared mouth agape. Landon chuckled stuffing 3 more bars in his mouth while pulling on his lycra to free his monster cock. Gary started massaging Landon, his muscles, his cock. Kissing the foot long monster, the muscles. Garry who had always identified as straight was ecstatic to feel all those muscles all that manliness. Landon finished the drink and tossed the empty bottle while stuffing the remaining bars in his mouth one after the other. He was stuffed. It all felt so good, he let himself go and rewarded his worshipper with a copious load of cum (while garry blew a little wad in his own pants). His gut receded as his body spasmed, dispatching all the matter in his belly toward his muscles. According to the pact with Damon, his greed was being rewarded with more muscle. And as he reached 363 lbs (165kg) his lycra finally tore giving way to his 34 inch quads (83cm) and his tank top ripped as his pecs grew until his chest reached a whopping 63 inches (1m58). Garry was so engrossed into worshiping the massive monster that he didn’t even realized Landon had grown right in front of him. -”I’m gonna need some gym clothes too.” said Landon still catching his breath “the biggest baggiest you have lil dude”. ________ Damon felt the orgasm like it was his. It actually was his orgasm too, he had a copious sticky mess on his jeans crotch to attest it. He had connected with Landon as the man climaxed. He had seen it all. The store, the fit worshipper, the ruined carpet… and he knew exactly where Landon was at that very moment. -”Got you.” he said to himself. He rapidly changed clothes and left for the real world, hoping to catch the trail before it got cold. ________ Landon was looking into a mirror in the big and tall store. The mood wasn’t the same as in the supplement store. The clerk beside him was nervous and having a hard time hiding how offput he was by Landon massive body. Landon was equally uneasy, his new size made him very self-conscious. He was so obvious, so sexual and he had no idea how to deal with it when people weren’t worshiping him. Which would be most of the time given the nasty stares he got since this morning. The new outfit wasn’t really helping, he had ditched the oversized shorts and string top bought hastily before leaving the supplement store for a more professionally appropriate attire. And though it was the best that could be done it was hardly professional and hardly appropriate. The light blue shirt had to be open to the middle of his pecs preventing him from wearing a tie, it was clinging to his body, making every muscle painfully obvious. The dark blue slacks were comfy though stretched over his massive legs like yoga pants. The outfit was complete with black leather shoes the clerk had to tie for Landon because he couldn't reach his feet. -”That’ll have to do.” Landon said. -”We can have the extra shirts and pants by Wednesday.” said the clerk “They’ll fit your frame better and you should be able to close the collar for a tie. By the way we do have safety ties to clip on the collar, it might helpful since ...errr…. you can not… reach.. Your neck…” he ended awkwardly as they walked (swayed in Landon’s case) to the cash desk. -”That is a good idea. Can you get me three in different colors?” Landon said blushing. He paid for his order, collected a paper bag with his gym clothes and made a beeline for the subway to get to work. It was a rather unpleasant trip. Everything felt too small and cramped. People were staring disapprovingly, muttering nasty comments and avoiding him. To make thing worst he broke his phone. He’d griped the thing a bit too strong while trying to answer a call. The damn thing got crushed like an empty beer can at a frat party. Probably his furious boss anyway. ________ The smell of semen was still lingering in the store, despite the efforts of Garry to mop the floor with a liberal amount of bleach. He was sweaty from the worship session and from all the cleaning afterward. He was pondering on what this morning’s session meant about his sexuality when a man barged in the store. The already sexually confused Garry felt himself get hard as he watched the middle eastern guy that had just came in. He was big (though nothing like the man this morning), gorgeous and so magnetic. -”Hello sir.” he said with a deep soothing voice “I’m looking for an unusually large man that visited your store today”. He produced a police badge and showed it to Garry. He looked thoroughly at the fit clerk, a look that meant “I-know-he-was-here-and-I-know-what-you-did”. The man radiated charm and authority. Garry was painfully hard and wet and his brain starting to play fantasies of being dominated by this man. He gulped hard, trying to focus to answer the man in front of him. -”Y-yes… d-did he d-d-do anything b-bad?” Garry stuttered. -”No but I need to find him quick for his own safety.” -”He-he d-did f-fill a-f-f-f-form fo-f-for a loyalty c-card.” Garry said. Proud to obey and be useful, he went to his computer searching for Landon’s entry. The man moved right behind him; much closer than necessary. Garry could feel the guy’s sizeable package nestle right above his own perky ass. The guy was looking past Garry’s shoulder at the screen. Garry could feel the guy hot breath on his neck. The big guy put his hand on the one Garry had on the mouse, browsing the form by using Garry’s own hand. -”Good. That’ll help me a lot. Thank you” he purred in Garry’s ear. He left leaving Garry out of breath and ready to burst behind his desk. Once in the street the guy took out his police badge. It shifted form and became a phone, he searched for Lamia in the contacts of the phone and send her the coordinates of the store and a message: Check that place for a nice beefy closeted submissive bi guy ripe for harvesting. Have fun ;) Still smiling to himself he dialed Landon’s number. It rang a few time, there was some commotion and then it disconnected. He re-dialed, but the call ended straight to voicemail. Damon sighed, he still had Landon’s address. ________ The security guys at the entrance of the building had looked at him suspiciously, the receptionist couldn’t hide how disgusted she was when he greeted her, and his colleagues simply gasped and stared. Landon didn’t even make it to his cubicle after reaching his floor. Landon wanted to rush to his cubicle and hide there but he was intercepted by Jeremy. Jeremy wasn’t very much wider than one of Landon’s legs. Not very much taller either. Yet Landon felt his heart sink as his boss did a double take seeing the recently overgrown Landon. -”Landon, glad to see you’re doing fine and you’re finally with us.” Jeremy said without breathing and with an absolute disregard for punctuation. -”Morning. Yeah sorry I had…” -”Can you come to my office? Now.” Jeremy interrupted. He had a blank stare, lost way behind Landon, his smile automatic and utterly out of place on his otherwise closed face. That wasn’t good. Landon sheepishly followed his boss toward the glass office at the other end of the floor. He was now seeing the cubicles from above and that new point of view was particularly depressing. His colleague were looking at him with worry, disgust, disbelief or a mix of all three. Part of him was amused to allow the monster he was to be bossed around by the puny asshole in an ill-tailored suit strutting in front of him. They entered Jeremy’s office, he closed the door and the blind behind Landon and gestured for him to sit in the chair facing his desk. Said chair creaked under Landon’s weight and much to Jeremy’s annoyance he was almost eye level with Landon now that he was seated. Jeremy half sat nonchalantly on his desk trying and failing to look relaxed and assertive. -”You know why you’er here Landon.” Jeremy said. -”I took too long this morning?” Landon asked as innocently as he could. Jeremy let an annoyed sigh escape him. His face was contorting trying not to show how offput he was by Landon. -”Listen, I’m gonna have to let you go. We can’t have you roaming around the office like… *annoyed gesture in Landon general direction* that!” -”Ha. Yes.” Landon answered. “I’m sorry about the outfit, I can’t find my size off the racks. But I’m getting tailored outfits later this week so...” -”Don’t…” Jeremy interrupted. “I don’t want to hear any excuses. I don’t care about you getting outfits to cover *another indescriptible gesture toward Landon* this! We can’t have you around the office like that, period. Have you seen the commotion you caused when you arrived? No one inflates over night like you did. Need I remind you that we got a very strict no-drug policy that you signed when we hired you. So you can leave now or we can have a mandatory drug check before kicking your freak ass out of here.” Landon slowly stood up and took a step forward jeremy. He was towering over Jeremy menacingly. Tilted his head down to look his boss in the eyes, his wide shoulders rolled forward forming a closed space around his boss and his pecs bunched up giving his body an intimidating shape. Jeremy felt his heart sink, Landon smiled softly. God he was gonna love that . -”Bring the cup that I need to pee in buddy” he said softly almost seductively “Make that a bucket actually cause you got that freak part right. Guess what? You won’t find any drugs or shit in it. You think I’m high on roids? Bad news buddy, I’m not. I wouldn’t be growing that fast if I was and yes buddy, I’m probably not done growing. I know you already find me disgustingly big.” Landon loomed closer to Jeremy “but more than disgusted you’re frightened. Frightened that the illusion of power you had over me is gone. Now, it’s just you versus me with raw physical force. And, buddy, it ain’t looking that good for you.” Landon leaned further in, laying his palm on the desk each side of Jeremy. Bringing his muscular body just a few inches of his boss. The power he had at this moment was intoxicating. He wanted more. ”If you’re scared and grossed out now buddy, just wait till I grow even bigger. Maybe you’ll even see it with your own eyes. Actually… I think I’m about to make an example… unnnnghh” The greed inside Landon swelled up Landon’s speech was rewarded by the weirdly recognisable sound of a grown up pissing himself. That wet cascading muffled sound of a pint of piss soaking through business slack and dripping on a cheap office carpet. Landon straightened himself taking a step back, looking triumphantly down on Jeremy. -”I think I’ll take my afternoon then.” smiled Landon “You cover me for skipping work and I’ll cover you for pissing yourself. See you tomorrow morning boss and don’t forget the bucket, I would hate to further ruin your office carpet.” Landon left the glass office with a big smile on his face and spring in his step. His heavy pecs bounced in rhythm. It felt so good he was oblivious to all the stares he got from his coworkers. Going home seemed like the best course of action. He wanted out of his clothes, to maybe rub one out, or ten and rest. He was pondering last night, thinking he shouldn't have left Damon’s place, that guy ought to know what happened, he might have even helped Landon get more. But Landon had been beside himself after sex and the end of the evening still felt surreal and blurry. As he entered his flat he had made up his mind, he’d go back to the bar he was in the night before and try to find Damon. He was so into his head that he didn’t notice straight away the muscular figure sprawled on his couch. -”You’re home early honey. Lucky me.” purred Damon. -”hehehe. Lucky you indeed.” growled Landon. Not bothering to understand how and why Damon was in his living room, Landon pounced on the hunky demon, kissing him deeply and ripping his clothes from his body. ________ Garry was closing his store, he had waited for this moment the whole day. He had noted Landon’s phone number from his loyalty registration form. He dialed the number and was crestfallen to end straight on voicemail. Before the recorded message ended he felt someone grabbing his phone from him, softly but firmly, irresistibly. He turned around and was suddenly facing a man as massive as Landon was. Impossibly tall wide and muscular. He was a Gorgeous red hair with emerald green eyes.He was so stunning, his crisp white t-shirt emphasizing the volumes of his chest and his tight raw jeans hugging his monster legs and cupping an obscene bulge. Garry didn’t notice the odd and out-of-style snakeskin boots the man wore. The muscular giant was looking down on Garry smiling warmly as he hung up the call and handed the phone back to Garry. -”Forget about that Landon dude. He isn’t for you. But don’t be sad cutie. I’d be happy to take care of you.” Lamia said tentatively. Part.3 Damon hadn’t really planned on that turn of events. He had imagined he’d wait for Landon to come home before taking him to the demon realm and registering him as a familiar. Sex wasn’t in his original plan, which he’d now have to amend, since he was now naked and being roughly manhandled by the horny Landon. The display of strength and greed was turning on the demon beyond what he would have ever expected, and his massive 13-inch cock was rock hard. Landon effortlessly lifted the hunky demon, banging his head on the ceiling doing so. He was now mouth level with Damon’s crotch. Damon forgot how much his head hurt as he felt his massive dick pass down Landon’s throat. The man’s tongue massaging the base of the shaft while his neck muscles contracted around the rest of the shaft and the tip. Damon let out a deep howl. Within a minute of this treatment, he blew a massive wad in Landon’s belly. He steadied himself by grabbing Landon’s huge traps. As the fog of his orgasm cleared slowly he became aware of his grip shifting and a faint stretching sound could be heard. Landon’s was gorging himself on the demon’s powers, Damon needed to get him down to demonic realm before the incubus became a problem. Landon carefully pulled Damon out of his throat, slowly revealing the spit and cum-slick thick hose inch by inch. The head finally came out in a wet kiss and Landon put the demon back on the floor. He had a blissful smile on his face. Damon assessed the situation: Landon was starting to get too big to be a regular human, his greed wasn’t even remotely satisfied (could it ever be?). The amount of sin he could generate was unfathomable. Damon could use that to grow his power beyond anything he could ever have imagined. ”Well aren’t you a big boy now,” Damon said. He was caressing the flank of his incubus like some horse in a corral. He barely reached Landon’s nipple height now. Landon growled, delighted from all the attention, still high on his last growth and the promise of more. His dick was around a foot and half semi-hard and dripping on the floor. He looked down tenderly at the demon. Damon sensed the need to act immediately. ”I know you want more, gorgeous,” the demon cooed. “But we can’t do it here. If you come with me I’ll give you all the muscle you want.” Those words were enough to make Landon fully hard and focused again. He wasn’t exactly seeing eye-to-eye with Damon, he wanted more and he wanted it now. He grabbed the demon without a warning. Despite the size difference, odds weren’t in Landon’s favor. Damon looked amused at his power-drunk incubus, the major demon calmly grabbed Landon’s insanely thick and powerful wrist. Damon’s eyes glowed red and little horns poked through his forehead, roughly 3 inches and slightly curved (and cute as hell). Landon froze, his grip around Damon loosened and his whole gigantic body spasmed violently. He let a sharp cry followed by grunts. He was sweating bullets, convulsing ,and then busted the most powerful nut he ever had in his life. His mind emptied as gallons of cum sprayed from his two-foot cock, massive ropes of cum crashing everywhere on his living room. The orgasm was so strong his whole body shut down and he crashed face against the floor, whimpering, his body still shaking, his massive balls painfully empty as he shot blanks. After a few seconds Landon was nothing more than a monumental mass sobbing on the floor. That orgasm had been nothing pleasurable; it was so intense it was painful. It had drained him and shattered the illusion of power he had. It was now clear to him that Damon was the one in charge and that he was the one ultimately profiting from that whole mess. ”You done?” the demon asked. He kneeled next to Landon and grabbed the muscle monster’s jaw with his left hand. The grip was firm and irresistible, but still comfortable to Landon. Landon was still sobbing, his face ravaged by fear, disbelief and incredulity. Drool oozed from his mouth, tears had left streaks on his face, and his nose was running, as he sobbed out of sheer terror. Damon on the other hand was a mask of perfection, and his red irises and little horns only added to the fascination he exerted. ”Let’s get this straight darling. Try that sort of stunt again and I’ll drain all your muscles. Turn you into a pathetic weakling. I might even pour all that muscle into someone you hate. Your boss maybe… Imagine that little prick growing as big as you are while you shrink to be as puny as him. You know, I have a thousand things worst than death in store for you if you disobey me, and I’ll make you live through them all. Spoiler alert: death will not set you free. I’ll make sure your afterlife is hell. Literally and figuratively. “On the other hand, you do what I tell you, obey, and we’ll be best friends. You behave as I say and I’ll make your craziest dreams come true. I’ll make sure you get everything you want and then some.” He leaned in applying his soft lips on Landon’s, forcing his tongue into the incubus’ mouth. Landon gave in to the deep kiss, every ounce of resistance melting, his body relaxing. The promise of more had washed away everything in him. All that was left was the greed, the need for more, and he was happily willing to submit entirely to the demon. Damon broke the kiss, satisfied with Landon unconditional submission. ”There, there. It’s over darling. I’ll take good care of you.” He grabbed the remains of his shirt and wiped Landon’s face clean as the giant stood up. ”That’s better. Now, follow me and we’ll grow you some more.” Damon walked to the door of the flat and produced a key out of nowhere. He inserted it in the keyhole and opened the door. Behind it, in place of the corridor, was a vast open meadow. The sky was a vivid orange and red like a surreal neon sunset, and the grass was a dark green - almost black. Poppies were in full bloom everywhere, red petals flying in the light warm breeze. Landon was staring mouth agape at the weird, twisted, yet fascinating sight unfolding behind his doorstep. ”You like the place? It’s the Seventh Circle Gardens, a virtually endless useless space in hell. You’ll have plenty of room to grow here.” Damon said crossing the door. “Come on.” As Landon tried to go through the door, he realized his body was too tall and wide for the doorway. He tried to squeeze sideways, so impatient to rejoin Damon that he forced himself through, cracking the doorway. And as the doorway broke, so did the spell. The gateway abruptly dissolved, leaving a dumbfounded Landon alone on his destroyed doorstep. On the other side, Damon, mouth agape, stared at the now-inert stone portal of the Seventh Circle Gardens. The whole scene had left him equally alone and dumbfounded, but also incredibly aroused. “Aw, for fuck’s sake...” he muttered ___________________________ Kumquat: Small, orange citrus-like fruit which is native to Asia. Named after cantonese designations: 柑橘 (gam gwat) or 金橘 (gam gwat, literally “golden tangerine”). It also happens to be the safe word of Lamia and Garry’s currently unfolding domplay. ___________________________ Lamia’s bedroom was a vast, lush neo-Baroque place. Everything was in shades of crimson and gold. It looked like a brothel, an expansive one, but it was hopelessly tacky and devoid of any subtlety. Straight Garry was painfully hard, he was doing a poor job at sucking Lamia’s footlong (he had never touched another man’s dick, let alone such a massive one). The massive muscular red-haired demon had been flexing and verbally abusing the young lightweight bodybuilder for the last ten minutes. It was everything Garry never knew he fantasized about--being dominated--but it turned him on so much it didn’t matter if he was getting fucked by another dude. He was realizing how much he loved being manhandled by someone larger than him. Lamia pulled out his dick and used the massive tool to slap Garry across the face with it. ”Stand up boy,” he ordered Garry obeyed eagerly. He was eye-level with Lamia’s collarbone, half has wide as the demon. The glorious red-haired demon must have been 7 feet tall at least, and somewhere around 400 lbs. Garry was no small fry--at 199 lbs he had a competitor physique, but it was nothing compared to the hypertrophied, overly ripped and vascular monster. In terms of dick too, Garry had been a big boy, with a fat ten inches perfectly shaped. He had gotten quite a few stares in the locker room and several girlfriends complaining about it being too big (though many of the complaints were related to him not knowing how to use it). But still it was nothing compared to the extra fat, pulsating footlong of Lamia. Lamia grabbed the back of his head, forcing a kiss in the muscle boy. He then broke the kiss and slapped Garry across the face. ”Thank you, sir,” Garry said. He immediately went back to worshiping Lamia. Caressing, licking and kissing all his muscles. Lamia flexed his biceps and bounced his pecs in the face of his not so little worshipper. He then laid a meaty paw on Garry perky and fuzzy butt, his thick finger sliding in the muscle boy’s crack. ”You’ve never been fucked, have you?” Lamia asked ”No sir.” ”Perfect, I’m going to pop that cherry of yours, boy.” ”No sir, please...” Lamia, grabbed both wrists of his pup and lifted him a few inches from the ground. He was definitely getting off on this session, and so was Garry judging by his rock hard dick. ”Don’t you dare refuse me anything, boy. I’m the alpha here and if I want to fuck you I’ll fuck you. Got it?” This was too much for Garry and he felt he was about to use the safeword he agreed on with Lamia: Kumquat. Getting bossed around, slapped with a dick, grabbed by the hair and humiliated was amazing--but he wasn’t ready for this. At 25 years old, he had always thought of himself as a basic straight bro. And now he had a massive dom top ready to tear him in half. He couldn’t go that far. A few tears escaped him. -”Kumq.... Kum…” he sobbed Lamia eased his grip around Garry’s wrist, putting him back on the floor. He sighed, grabbing Garry’s jaw, forcing the boy to look in his eyes. ”It’s ok, boy. Say it,” Lamia said softly. It was too much for Garry, wilder than any of his fantasies. -”Kum…” he sobbed. “Kum in my ass please, sir,” he finally blurted out Lamia roared with laughter, grabbing his boytoy and throwing him roughly face first on the bed. He then spread Garry’s ass and went down on him, eating the virgin’s hole. Garry howled in delight, now sure he had made the right choice. ___________________________ Landon was alone in his corridor; naked, confused and scared. He had done some serious damage to his flat and was realizing that his neighbors could barge any moment and find his freakish naked self in the middle of his destroyed entrance. They’d call the police, he’d get in major trouble, get evicted, lose his job... As panic rose, he started hyperventilating. Stuck on the spot like a deer in headlights. The sound of a key turning in the lock his neighbor's door made his heart sink. He started sobbing. Despite all his monstrous muscles, he was helpless. Not fitting in the human world anymore. And worst of all, with Damon gone, he’d never get more. The greed inside him would never be satisfied. The door swung open, a warm reddish light flooded the corridor and out of it came the glorious sight of naked, horned Damon. Relief washed over Landon like never in his life. He stood up and walked toward Damon. The corridor was cramped for him now, barely wide enough for his frame. He hugged Damon and kissed him between heavy sighs of relief. ”Aw, hahaha. I’d never abandon you darlin’,” said Damon. “We need to leave quickly before anyone in here notices what’s happening.” Landon put him back on the floor. Damon closed the door he emerged from and locked it. He started walking toward the elevator, unphased by his nakedness. Landon followed, clearly not as comfortable as the demon. ”Do you have a garage under the building?” Damon asked. ”Yes.” ”Good. It’ll have a door big enough for cars. We’ll use that.” Next to the elevator was the door to the stairs. It was the same size as Landon’s apartment door. The demon sighed. ”You’ll have to burst through that one too.” He got into the staircase, it was narrower than the corridor but they had no other option. The elevator wouldn’t do. He turned and watched Landon squeeze himself through the doorway once again, tearing off chunks of wall as he did. It was as hot as the first time. Damon moaned at the sight and gave his dick a quick squeeze. With Landon finally in the staircase they moved down to the garage, the demon was alert and rapid, but Landon was having a hard time. Not only was his mass complicating his movement in that narrow space, it was exhausting him to carry it all. He was breathing hard, drenched with sweat, his body trying to cool down. When they finally reached the underground garage level, Damon went through the door leading to a wide hallway where large white garage doors lined up. He sighed with relief before realizing Landon couldn’t cross the doorway separating the staircase from the garage. It was as small as the others before, but the walls around it weren’t the flimsy partitions from upstairs. It was thick concrete. “Damon, I can’t!” Landon cried. He was desperately trying to worm his way through, but it wouldn’t work. He was starting to hurt himself trying to cross the doorway. Damon felt something weird inside himself, Landon’s cry, his struggle and the scratches and bruises appearing on his body were making him feel desperate. He couldn’t stand to watch that happen to Landon. Compassion and attachment were new things for him, and they prompted him to action faster than anything before. He turned to the garage door facing Landon, jammed the key in and lifted the white tin panel, unveiling the surreal meadow once more, basking the whole garage in a reddish light and a warm breeze. He then rushed back to Landon and kissed him deeply, forcing his power inside the succubus. Landon’s exhaustion from the descent disappeared, his wounds healed and his muscle swelled again. It lasted just a few second but it was enough to make Landon significantly bigger and stronger. Damon broke the kiss and took a few steps back. ”You can do it,” he rasped. Landon was in a second state, high from all the power he just had been infused with in so little time. With one mighty push he destroyed the concrete frame of the door, his newly enhanced frame unfolding in the vast hallway as concrete dust and chunks bounced off it. Cracks formed on the walls, the whole building groaned following the destruction he caused. With a surprising speed, he picked Damon off the ground, cradling him against his gigantic torso, and ducked to cross through open garage door. Once on the other side, he let himself fall flat on his back, giggling like a maniac, coming down from his power craze. He felt the surprisingly light weight of Damon climb down from him. Landon sat watching the demon move to the stone portal and close the gateway between worlds. He had reached a new level of freakishness. He was over 8 foot tall. His back muscles and traps had swelled so large they had amalgamated with his neck, putting his lovely face atop an obscene mountain of sculpted sinewy muscles. His torso was framed by gigantic shoulders, making it 4 feet wide. His arms were so massive they collided with his lats. The muscle then tapered to a powerful waist on which abs were carved in an hypnotic pattern. And then the massive legs--each quad as thick as the waist, an intricate assemblage of hypertrophied muscle fibers. And his monstercock draped across his legs, ridiculously fat and two foot long soft. Balls the size of footballs hanging low in his large sack. Damon on the other hand was looking smaller and thinner. His horns had receded back in his skull, his eyes were circled with black, like he had been sleep-deprived for days. And the once-magnificent piece of dick jutting from his groin was now just above average. Without receiving Sin in exchange for the energy he had pumped into Landon, Damon was weakened. Landon looked concerned at Damon, closing the distance between them and taking the worn out demon in his massive embrace. ”You ok? You look terrible.” ”I might have overdid it a little. I’ll be better in a minute.” Landon smiled mischievously and started caressing the demon, nuzzling his neck. He needed Damon to be powerful enough to grow him, and it was easy for him to give the demon what he needed. ”I need you strong, Damon. I need you to make me bigger. Please.” Landon growled. Landon didn’t have to fake anything, his greed was genuine. He needed more, and the thought of more made him so horny... and being horny made him want more. His greed was soon in full gear and he felt the demon feed on it immediately. Damon was unmistakably growing thanks to his ministrations. In a matter of seconds, his body was restored to it’s former glorious thickness. The hard mass behind the supple skin forcing his generous nipples to face the ground, his ass thickening into an obscene rump, his shoulders widening. The warm olive color returned to his skin and his horns grew back. He was still small compared to Landon but he felt so thick, maybe thicker than he ever was. Landon was so turned on by the sight of the growing demon and the promise of more. ”Yes, make me bigger please. Now…” Landon pleaded, still worshipping the demon. Damon growled in delight. Ready to please his incubus. ___________________________ Garry was on all foor, Lamia had taught him how to arch his back so that his wide shoulders and phat ass stuck out. His tight, brand new pink hole exposed. He felt weak, humiliated, dominated, and it made him hard. All he cared about was to be used for someone else’s pleasure. That someone else was currently lining up a slick footlong wrist-thick penis with Garry’s hole. The soft silky cockhead pressed ever so slightly against Garry’s virgin hole. He was equally excited to be used, and scared to be hurt. ”Do you sacrifice your virginity to me in exchange for a lifetime of pleasure and power?” Lamia asked solemnly Garry thought the phrase was weird but he was definitely enjoying that power play. He genuinely craved abusive sex, and he’d go to great lengths to satisfy that new need. ”Yes, sir. Take what you want from me,” He said his voice trembling with anticipation. ”So be it,” Lamia smiled. The red-haired sex demon pushed his dick inside Garry. A slow, implacable, unwavering trust, sealing the pact that had just been made. Garry went into a trance state immediately. His hole offered no resistance, opening just enough to welcome the behemoth’s dick and apply the perfect amount of pressure. It wasn’t only a dick forcing its way into him--it was power, knowledge, demon energy turning him into what he had always wanted to be: the perfect, obedient human sex toy. Part.4 Mammon was slowly running his gilded hands on his golden shaft. The Greed Demon Lord was a seven foot tall Adonis, with a generous and powerful musculature, and the face of a gorgeous man in full bloom from which stemmed long platinum horns. He was made of pure gold, living pulsating gold, with diamonds eyes, his big footlong cock was dripping liquid pearls. He was sprawled on a vast pile of gold coins and jewels, decadent treasure was amassed everywhere in his throne room, gorgeous males and females, humans, demons even an angel where enslaved, chained to the demon with opulent jewels and lock. A shiver ran across the golden demon. Something wasn’t right. Something was being taken from him. __________________________ Landon stood almost 10 feet tall, his body even wider than he was tall. Thick muscles piling on top of each other. Veins snaking all over his body feeding the growing muscles. His back muscles reaching higher than his head, massive pecs jutting several feets forward and casting deep shadows over ridiculously ripped and bulging abs. His legs were monumental, each one almost as wide as his torso. His skeleton had been twisted and deformed to accommodate the mind boggling amount of hypertrophied muscle stacked on his body. His dick was a 4 foot long 2 foot wide tube of pulsating flesh plunged deep into Damon, feeding on the ever growing demon power. Though less impressive, Damon’s appearance had drastically changed. His skin was a surreal dark olive tint, slick with sweat, his hair was an absolute black, eyes burning like embers, magnificent horns proudly coming from his forehead and coiling in an intricate manner. His body was massive. Almost as much as Landon used to be but it wasn’t striated ripped muscle. It was smooth, voluminous, bloated muscle, voluptuous looking, powerful and inviting. His massive pectits hanged heavily on his mighty chest, fat dark areolas slightly stretched by the muscular mass pushing under the skin. His globular ass filled by the monolithic growing dick of Landon. The huge cockhead could clearly be seen under the smooth silky skin of the demon, stretching him more and more with each passing second. The power the two were generating was off the charts, their symbiotic dynamic was nothing any realm had ever seen. Landon was the most visible part of that ever expanding power cell but it was only the tip of the iceberg. The real power surge was with Damon. The demon was reaching levels of power he’d never had thought he could reach. It was only a matter of time before he’d surpass the demon lords. He’d be powerful enough the overthrow the seven of them without even breaking a sweat. But first he’d have to find a way to hoist himself off Landon’s dick. He wasn’t going anywhere with that much cock shoved in him. __________________________ Lucifer sat upright on his throne, he was naked, displaying a body so absolutely perfect that anyone laying eyes on it would just stare at him forever. There were hundreds of them staring at the Pride Demon Lord , slowly letting themselves die while gazing upon the perfect form of the demon. He was a tall athletic black man with perfect proportions, a crimson velvet cape thrown back to fully reveal his glistening body. Bone curled horns framed his surreal face and a copper crown mocking the angel halos rested atop the magnificent figure. His whole body twitched, something suddenly upset him. Someone would ridicule him... __________________________ Garry’s mind was almost completely gone, only the joy of being used and treated as a sex toy remained. Lamia loved his new toy, it was nowhere near as powerful as Damon’s succubus but he was still enjoyable. He was still abusing the muscle boy’s ass when the words were burned in his mind. I NEED YOU AND YOUR FUCKBOY RIGHT NOW!!! Lamia violently pulled out of Garry out of fear and surprise, the muscleboy cried in pleasure. The demon grabbed his head with both hands, the pain of having another demon speaking right in your mind was almost unbearable. It was something only extremely powerful demons could do and they used it to terrorize lesser demon into obedience. -”Arrg, for fuck sake! That hurts! Why would you do this! Use the fucking phone”. Lamia was scared, If Damon mastered such a power there was no way of telling exactly how powerful he was and how powerful he’d get. But somewhere deep down Lamia knew it was probably best to be on the side of the rising Damon. His telephone rang and he picked it up immediately. -”Sorry, these powers are growing so fast I haven’t mastered them all yet.” Damon said -”Just don’t ever do that again.” Lamia muttered massaging his forehead. -”Yeah, I’ll try to avoid that, but right now I need that fuckboy of yours. As fast as possible. I will make it worth the trouble.” -”What are you up to?” Lamia asked. -”Let’s just say that there’s a hostile takeover of hell about to happen. And if you get both yours and your sex slave muscled asses in the meadows soon enough, you might get a promotion in the upcoming managerial reattribution. Don’t use the portal, I took it down.” Damon hung up. Lamia had never seen him be so bossy, he was definitely up to something and Lamia was definitely going to try to be on the winning side. -”Come on boy, walkies” he said to Garry. The obedient muscle guy climbed down the bed and followed his master out. __________________________ Beelzebub looked stunning at first glance, but should you look long enough at the Envy Demon Lord, you’d feel increasingly uneasy. Stitches ran all over the demon’s body. And each body part was a different tone than the other. His horns were mismatched and so were his eyes, which only made his glare more disturbing. Hard to say which parts of him where originals, he had ripped apart so many things from so many beings to claim as his own… ideas, properties, limbs… He sat in a dark room lit only by the dim light of countless screen on which social media feed rolled on forever. He’d occasionally click on some contents, archiving it, bookmarks for further harvest. He was restless, refreshing tabs faster, something was amiss, something was escaping his scrutiny, something he wanted but couldn’t have... __________________________ By the time the call had ended Damon was almost fully immobile. He was 11 feet of muscle bulging all over th his 15 foot wide frame and still expanding. Damon now had 3 solid feet of dick shoved in him. He needed to get off of Landon before the monstrous incubus turned him into a condom. Damon clamped his powerful ass and contacted his abs. Once he was tight and ready he focused his powers on making his behemoth orgasm, which given his newfound power was easy as pie. The cum blasted inside him created a pressure contained by his powerful abs and ass. Soon it was powerful enough and when Damon relaxed his ass he was propelled off Landon’s dick like champagne cork. Damon crash landed a few feet away. Cum was raining thick on the meadow. He got up, his hipbone fixing himself and his asshole quickly tightening back into pristine condition. __________________________ It was nearly impossible to get anything rational out of Satan, not even a word. The dysfunctional Wrath Demon Lord had been locked away in his castle. The muscular being was an uncontrollable fury, destroying everything and everyone he came across for as long as anyone could remember. His body was covered in bruises and scars. From his buzzed head emerged two broken horns. His eyes were burning with fire, leaving dark burnt trails on his forehead, while his mouth foamed like a rabid dog. While he was a restless storm of destruction to begin with, his fury suddenly amped up to the point he had a seizure. He fell to the floor, and for the first time in centuries, laid still. Crying to himself as he felt the rise of a demon overpowering him. __________________________ Lamia crossed the portal with Garry on his tail. Damon was waiting for them on the other side. Damon was around 7’ tall, thick muscle adorning his wide frame. It had a functional and powerful musculature like an olympic wrestler. He looked both intimidating and inviting. The slick black horns coiled back on his head and his burning ember eyes were a physical manifestation of his newly grown power. Once Lamia and Garry were close enough Damon smiled and shouted to Landon. -”OK darlin you can destroy that portal” Lamia and Garry turned in time to see the inhuman mass of Landon crush the stone portal with his bare hands, giggling like a maniac doing so. -”Good. We don’t anyone reaching us easily.” Damon said. -”Fuuuuuuck.” Lamia muttered. “He is huge… do you think he’s at his max?” -”Nope. That’s why I needed your toy. I obviously can’t take over hell with a mile of dick shoved in my ass. No matter how much I love that, I can’t. But I figured out I could build a proxy with that lil guy of yours… he hasn’t turned into an incubus right, I can possess him?” -”Nah he’s still just a human.” Lamia said -”Great. So here’s the deal, you give him to me, to use as I see fit and in return I’ll make you my second.” Lamia could feel the power emanating from Damon, he could also feel the bottomless pit that Landon was. There was not a single doubt that the seven Demon Lords would fall to Damon before the day was done, with or without his help. So the decision was easy to make. He grabbed Garry and pushed him toward Damon. Damon caught the beefy human with one of his arms and drew him close to his body. Grabbing the muscle boy’s ass with one hand, kneading it appreciatively. -”It’s a deal then.” Damon said, motioning Lamia to get closer. Lamia closed the distance to seal the pact, he reached to kiss Damon and immediately felt the powers of the demon imprint on him. He fell backward breathing hard as he realized the real extent of Damon’s powers. And they were about to grow a whole lot more. -”Now your turn buddy.” Damon said turning his attention back to Garry. Damon kissed him deeply. Garry’s submissive side was happy to give in to the demonic possession, to him it was the ultimate abuse and he loved it. Damon forced his power inside the man like a tide and in a matter of seconds Garry had turned into an extension of Damon. Possession was a way for demon to have several physical bodies, it simply pushed the host of a body in a corner and took it over. When they broke the kiss Garry was now just a spectator in his body. Damon was in full control. -”Perfect.” Damon muttered, “Now where were we?” he said turning to Landon. __________________________ Abaddon tossed and turned in his sleep. He looked like a pretty twink with unruly mousy hair and cute tiny horns. The Sloth Demon Lord opened one lazy yellow eye, pulled his covers tighter and went back to sleep. __________________________ Damon was helping Lamia back to his feet. The red haired demon was still reeling in from the deal they had sealed. Meanwhile possessed Garry was nuzzling against Landon 3’ dick and coaxing it into full erection. -”That’ll never fit in that tiny human.” Garry and Damon said in unison. ”But it’s easy to fix.” Garry’s body grew in thickness and stature. Just like Landon grew of greed, he grew from the delicious abuse inflicted on him. He rapidly reached 8’ tall and the caricature of a morphed bodybuilder. Once thick enough he turned his back to Landon, exposing his phat muscle ass and hole. Landon walked toward the offered body, with great difficulty. Damon grabbed the three feet pole and aligned it with Garry’s Hole. -”He’s all yours.” he said to Landon. Landon pushed himself into Garry. He felt the loose but comparatively small hole stretch against his cockhead. The silky inside encasing the tip of his glans, pushing against the firm muscles of the sphincter. The first ring offered little resistance but did apply some nice pressure on the massive shaft. The second ring followed shortly after and Landon kept pushing, inch after inch and soon foot after foot. Landon was finally reconnected with Damon through Garry who was now an extension of the demon. His whole body shook as his growth resumed. Damon felt his power surge. Soon he’d be unstoppable. Garry was mentally filled by Damon, who used him as a proxy for his powers, and physically filled by Landon whose growing manwood was stretching his midsection ever so slightly. What was left of his mind was in utter delight, and his body kept growing from all that abuse, allowing him to keep up with the ever growing Landon. __________________________ Belphegor was having diner. The Gluttony Demon Lord was always having diner. An obscene banquet with incredible dish succeeding one another. The scene was surreal, the overfed demon was massive, he looked like a muscle bear. A 10 feet tall 10 feet wide muscle bear almost immobile with muscle and chub. All over the place smaller less muscle bound demon were running around taking dished away, setting new on the table. Feeding the demon lord and occasionally massaging his fat penis to milk him. He’d then avidly drink his own spunk before he resumed stuffing his face (or more accurately getting his face stuffed). He was a merry character, but his mood slowly turned sour as an uneasy feeling of being outgrown by another demon crept on him. __________________________ The meadow was once a flat expanse, but now a pulsating flesh mountain was expanding at the center of it. It was almost as tall as Everest, quite wider, and totally made out of muscle. The bodies of Landon and Garry where grotesque masses of muscles colliding with other muscles. Comfortably seated between expanding cords of fibrous muscles, Damon watched the demonic realm shrink. He was growing too, though it wasn’t as fast as Landon or Garry, His physical form was twisted by the unfathomable and ever expanding power he possessed. He was 10 feet tall and weighed almost a ton of muscle. Thick ultra dense, powerful muscle. They were no longer full and inviting muscles, they were lean fibrous hypertrophied ridiculously vascular muscles and sinews. He had developed new muscle that didn’t exist on the human body to sustain his new improved body. Even his 15 inches dick had developed a set of functional muscles covering the whole shaft powerful enough to destroy a whole army. His tall frame had widened to allow him to have his full range of motion. He looked godly and ominous. Lamia was right behind him, looking at Damon with awe. He was also impacted by the tremendous development of his master but to much smaller scale. -”Damon, this power is unlike anything the Demonic realm ever knew. But I think they’re growing too fast. Aren’t you afraid they might be a hazard for the Demonic Realm?” -”Landon’s greed is bottomless. He’s going to grow to a unimaginable size and I need it to grow my powers. But you’re right he might get so big that he’ll change the face of the Demon Realm. But I do have an idea. Let’s get back on the ground.” Damon reached for Lamia in a graceful gesture. The myriad of muscle fiber rippling under his perfect skin. Lamia watched transfixed as the godlike behind grabbed him effortlessly and then leaped to the ground. __________________________ Asmodeus was a sight to behold, he was sort of a touristic attraction in the demon realm. The Lust Demon Lords body was a gorgeously crafted porno, with a glorious face, but the main event was his penis. The thing culminated at 3 000 ft (roughly 300ft taller than the burj khalifa for human reference) and a whole city had been built around it and on the very shaft. Stairs, lifts and railways, ran across it’s surface like veins but instead of blood they carried people living and working here. At the tip, near the urethra a luxurious spa had been built, it used the continuous and massive leakage of precum as a hot spring and you could enjoy bubble baths, massage jets and infinity-edge pool overlooking the city sprawling around the demon’s gonads. Somewhere in the palace at the base of the shaft, Asmodeus, despite being immobilized by his building sized penis was enjoying a never ending orgy with dozens of people. But his pleasure was spoilt as the sensation of not being the most hung anymore slowly crept on him... __________________________ On the ground of the meadow the noise was deafening, earth shoved aside, rock crushed under the pressure and the stretching leather like noise of multiplying muscle fibers. Landon and Garry were almost the same size, turning the once flat meadow into the highest mountain chain ever. Lamia was scared beyond measure of what those two were becoming and Damon’s indecipherable calm was only making things worse. Damon raised a hand toward the expanding mass of muscle, his whole body contracted like he was in the middle of a terrible effort. His body twitching, growing, densifying. The air around him started to burn, the ground under his feet turning to lava. Lamia had to step away from to scorching aura of Damon. The noise of broken earth and rock had stopped. That’s when Lamia realized Landon and Garry where slowly but unmistakably floating off the ground. The ascension of the still expanding muscle monsters accelerated. And within a few minutes they were leaving the atmosphere. The grotesque mass of muscle was nearing orbit of the Demonic Realm. Its growth slowly tapering as Landon became finally satiated. __________________________ The seven Demon Lords looked at the sky as a new moon rose. It was a moon made of muscle, of greed and power. The very sight of it was enough to make them feel weak for they felt that this moon was the work of their new Demon King.

Krueldy

Hyperallergic: Captivated by the Performance of Black Masculinity

Still from Zachary Fabri, “The Big Payback” (2009), 1:58, single channel video (all images courtesy of the artist)

NEWARK — You walk by the black man in an oversized white T-shirt and baggy dark jeans, dancing to James Brown’s “The Big Payback,” strutting, hands on his hips, letting his backbone slowly slip side to side. Then — bam — hip thrust to your face. You can’t help but notice he’s a good dancer. Then you notice there is another man dancing close by, dressed similarly, but he is skinnier, has close-cropped hair, and his movements involve his arms moving in front of his torso and then around his back in time with the music. This man jumps and skips, shouts out phrases from the song, speaking to everyone and no one, and occupying the middle of the block so walkers have to eddy around him.

Watching both of these men dance — especially the first, with his loose braids falling into his face and his powerful hip thrusts skillfully timed to the beat, his crotch suggestively offered to any watcher — I’m embarrassed. I’m embarrassed for him and for some ridiculous reason for myself too. I have walked past these men more times than I wanted to. However, this time I witness the performance on a monitor at the Aljira Center for Contemporary Art, in the video “The Big Payback” (2009) as part of Zachary Fabri’s solo exhibition, From the Wolf to the Fox. Words appear on the screen one after the other in large, sans serif letters: “Buy Black People,” “Free My People,” and “Free Black People,” all terms that shift their meanings depending on the particular intonation given when delivered. And I want to ask which of us are not free, and what would my freedom, Fabri’s, or freedom for the dancing men look like?

Zachary Fabri, from Aureola (Black Presidents) (2012), digital C-prints, one of a set of 9

Right next to “The Big Payback” is a grid of color photos, each 20 by 30 inches, and each of a black actor playing the role of the US President. There’s Morgan Freeman, Sammy Davis Jr., Chris Rock, Dennis Haysbert, and even Richard Pryor in the series, Aerola (Black Presidents) (2012). Most are dressed in suits and look presidential, but their faces are obscured by the glare cast by a light shone into the camera’s eye. The men are mythically beautiful, partly because their characters were created at times when the notion of a black president was still very much a dream. Taken together these photos and the video of the dancers make up a portrait — not of black men, but of the artist’s anxiety, curiosity, and conscious effort to mine the culture around him for images and postures he can use to imagine being for himself. Getting to a sense of what might authentically be is such a tough row to hoe.

Zachary Fabri, “Red Handed” (2010), digital C-print

The work in From the Wolf to the Fox falls into two categories. Many pieces are Fabri’s phenomenological explorations of his body encountering other objects and negotiating space with them; for example, in his piece “Red Handed (2010) he wanders like a pilgrim through a landscape he discovers by walking and accumulating its dirt on his white clothes and shoes. The other set of works here are studies in conscious deliberation on what it is to be a black man, always performing, even when one doesn’t intend to perform, because if there is a viewer, even another black person, we are back under the klieg lights.

As Fabri has said, “My themes and ideas stem from personal experience living as a Black person in the USA and from the community that I live in,” and that his work is, “an exploration of my personal life, local community, and the systems of oppression inherent.” His exploration by way of this confluence of images is subtle, concerned with the cultural and social performance of black masculinity.

When considered in tandem with the marquee on the Aljira’s exterior, one might understand why I felt and feel that the dancing men are somehow representative of me. The sign reads, in huge vinyl letters: “The Condition, Elevation, Emigration and Destiny of the Colored People of the United States, Politically Considered.” In short, the movement of people of color is being politically considered, always considered, watched and assessed, even when we publicly move in exuberance and joy. We are a social grouping whose fates largely hang together, so the performance of black people is meaningful and therefore fascinating to me, but more importantly to Fabri. His intuitive response is to let the images glow in all their shifting, particular tones, including those of pride, fear, guilt, and blazing esteem — and to imagine that he must stay ahead of these images and ideas that are proliferating around him constantly. So Fabri, by way of these men, keeps dancing, always dancing.

Installation view of the front Aljira with the works “lorem ipsum Martin Delany 1877,” “lorem ipsum Martin Delany 1852,” and “lorem ipsum Edward Wilmont Blyden 1887,” (all 2012)

Zachary Fabri’s From the Wolf to the Fox continues at the Aljira Center for Contemporary Art (591 Broad Street, Newark, New Jersey) until January 15.

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