Author: [YttriumDervish] Stories~collected

[YttriumDervish]

 

Stories in this collection:

Just One Wish

The Making



An old story of mine. I haven't written anything good in years, but I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things. Hope you enjoy!

Just One Wish
by YttriumDervish


The Set-Up

"Dude, this is ridiculous," exclaimed Dean as he shoved his papers back into his backpack, "I quit. You're going way to far with this."

"Don't act like that. You knew the consequences when you cast it; it was only a matter of time before it came back to bite you in the ass." From behind his screen, Ethan's words came as law. "You can't cast Wish to mimic a Permanent Bull's Strength that continues casting without severely negative side-effects."

"But making it so my character can't even move because he's too muscular's ridiculous!"

"Dean, sit back down, we'll keep playing, and I'm sure our friendly neighborhood DM will let you cancel your Wish." Richard, protagonist of the story, looks at Dean carefully, "That was an outrageous one anyway."

With a sigh, Dean complies, unpacking his D&D gear and arranging it on the table once more, "Fine. But only this time. You're such an asshole, Ethan."

Smirking, Ethan rolls his d20s, "That's what the DM's for, Dean. Now, everyone roll a spot check."
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Richard, valiant knight and fledgling wizard, mounts his noble steed, Schwinn, and pedals home, waving to his fellow D&D-ers as he goes. Twenty-years old, and a third-year Freshman at Cyrus Griffin University, he had decided long ago that the scholarly pursuits offered by a school in Fishington, West Virginia might not be the best for him. So, he dallied around, engaging his time with many a great quest; evading the Ogres who guarded his favorite taverns and spell-binding many a wench to his bedchamber.

Of course, he thought as his inner monologue continued, she's usually named Rosy and tends to be at my side most of the time...

Hitching his steed to the well-defended Stables of Buffington, he-

Seriously, bro, how long are you going to continue this?
You're...not supposed to ask, remember? The whole "fourth wall" thing?
You're making us look bad! We're not -this- dorky! Besides, no one cares about this part! You'd be skipping over it right now, wouldn't you?
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Ahem...some time later that evening...

"For about me flames the pentagram, and above me shines the six-rayed star!"

Clasping his hands, Richard walks about his small bedroom, keeping ever in his mind the visualizations of the Archangels at the four cardinal points. For the magic to work, he couldn't falter. Everything must be perfect, for tonight was the only night in the next six months that the conditions would be right for the summoning.

Approaching his make-shift altar, Richard raises his hands to the ceiling, chanting, "Ajinna Mussa! By the powers of the Archangels, I invoke thee! Come upon this place, in the name of Ahura Mazda! He Who Beget Thee! Come; be it so!"

He stood there, arms thrust upwards, head tilted back uncomfortably, for a solid minute. Absolutely nothing happened. His will was wavering, and, given that the Will is the only real tool of the magician, he relaxed, arms dropping, and sighed.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered to himself. It should have worked; he did everything right; WTF. Shrugging and shaking his head, Richard turned around, ready to take off his robes...

And was face-to-face with the most frightening creature he'd ever imagined.

A hugely-muscular humanoid, barrel-everythinged with horns sprouting from it's goateed head, was grinning at him. Its eyes were aflame with a sinister light, and it's skin was...well, red. Picture a human who suddenly had all of his skin sloughed off. That color red. Needless to say, Richard was both elated and scared shitless.

"So," the creature spoke, in a horrid tone oddly-reminiscent of Christian Bale's "Batman" voice, "You are the one who summoned me. I am Azjal-Dimuss al Shebulba, djinn of the infernal plane of Archeron! I demand that it be made known why I have been brought to this place!"

Oddly enough, Richard smirked, and couldn't suppress the slightest of chuckles. "I want my wishes. You are a djinn, you grant wishes. Why else would I want you?"

"By the fires of the desert of Abraxas, I'll-"
and the djinn was interrupted by the outright laughter emanating from Richard.

"You have got to be kidding me. Look, I respect your power, and I do understand that I'm probably in a lot of danger here, but you're making things up, aren't you? 'The desert of Abraxas, the plane of Archeron?' Joss Whedon could come up with better names."

Despite his visage (which had begun smoking, apparently in anger), the djinn grinned again, "I tried. The name's Murphy, and I'm actually from Brooklyn. I got conned into this job about three years ago. Long story. Anyway, let's get down to business."

Chuckling, Richard sat on his bed, looking at Murphy, "Well, let's see...for my first wish, I'd like-"

"Doesn't work that way," interrupted Murphy, "you only get one wish."

"Just one wish? Hmph. Should've read the fine print. And I suppose that I can't do the Aladdin-thing and trick you into a freebie?"

"No. And be careful. You're wording means everything. Any loophole, and I'll exploit it. Be warned."

"Murphy, I don't think you're supposed to tell me that. But, whatever. I wish I had the ability to change the physical characteristics of human beings to any extent that I so chose, and in a manner which will rewrite the memories and events of the involved parties such that only the target and myself will have any knowledge of the way she or he used to appear. Likewise, all possessions will be altered to match the new appearance."

Murphy blinked, "Wow, kid. Sounds like you practiced that one. So be it. Ashatha namamanta shaharamati-"

"Wait!" Richard interjected, even rising to face Murphy, "And I will have full knowledge of how to use this ability."

Chuckling, Murphy nodded, and, crossing his arms over his chest, he nods once, a small action-sound being heard as he does so. "It is done." And with a poof, Murphy is no more.

"You have got to be kidding me. That was the lamest djinn..."

Looking down at his out-of-shape form, he begins to concentrate. Stomach receeds into abs, biceps swell, yada yada...until he is satisfied with his new, handsome look. "Cool."

From every part of his body bursts a blast of blue brilliance, traveling outward at a rapid pace. Shocked, Richard looks around. His clothing is different, pictures of himself have changed, all of the stipulations of his wish seem to have been granted.

Wow...it actually worked. I can't believe it actually worked! Lingster'd be so jealous right now...

Grinning, he picks up his phone, and rapidly dials, "Hey Caitlin, what's up? Can I come over tonight? I've got something to show you..."

[YttriumDervish]

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[YttriumDervish]

Part 2: Caitlin's Transformation

During the reasonable drive to Irongrove, Richard pondered just how to go about turning his best friend/love interest into a voluptuous amazon.

She does have Greek in her, continued his inner voice, but still, this is my story. I have to find a way to be unique, otherwise my life's just a plagiarism.

He took a brief moment to gasp in shock; there he was, on a billboard for the local gym! This was certainly an unexpected, if not unwelcome, turn of events. I guess I never realized just how far these alterations would go.

After all, he was still driving his nigh-broken down Santa Monica, still lived in the same house with the same people, still (as far as he could tell) had the same friends.

I guess this body had to come from somewhere.
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Pulling into her driveway, Richard was elated to see that Tyler wasn't there, too. Caitlin's boyfriend, whom he tolerated more than he liked, had taken up nest at her house almost a year ago, and just recently became employed. Though no trust-fund millionaire himself, Richard was still annoyed at Tyler's "beach bum antics."

Stepping inside, he was once again shocked when Caitlin jumped on him, hugging him hello in a much-more-affectionate manner than he had ever been greeted.

"Hey Rich! Good to see you! What's up?" Caitlin was positively bubbly as she extracted herself from their impromptu embrace, "It's been too long!"

It's only been a bloody week! I like the new me...

"I'm good, Cait, how 'bout you? Enjoying your new promotion?"

Small talk thus ensued, with Caitlin rambling on and on as she was prone to do, Richard smiling and nodding, listening but not that interested in how so-and-so's husband's brother came by the store or whatever she was talking about. He kept mulling over in his head how he was going to make the change happen, and, in fact, how he was going to change her.

Bigger breasts, for sure. The "B's" look nice on her, but "D's" would definitely be better...

And it happened. As she was chatting away, Richard noticed her breasts swelling ever-outward against shirt, distorting the lettering. Slowly, they crept outward, so that after about five minutes, they had reached somewhere in the large-C range.

An odd look came over her face, and she clasped her hands behind her back and stretched. It was then, chest thrust forward as it was, that she finally took notice of her inflated busom.

Eyes widening, she let out an 'eep' and quickly crossed her arms in front of her. "What the fuck? What's happening?! Rich, can you...do you...what the fuck!?"

Richard, to his credit, had the appropriate expression on his face, a mix of shock and arousal, and he blinked a few times, "Um...Cait? Did your boobs just, like, balloon?"

Blushing, Caitlin sprang from the couch to run into the bathroom. Halfway, the blue light burst forth from her, spreading outward in the expected fashion. She stopped abruptly, looking around, and back down at her chest, which were now fully D's, maybe D-and-a-half's. Her clothing had changed, too; whereas before, she had been wearing a blue "Sod Michigan" t-shirt and jeans, she was now wearing a halter, of the same color, contouring nicely her new assets and dipping low enough to show generous cleavage, much more than she'd formerly been able to flaunt.

"Rich, did...did you do this?" Cait stares at Rich, hefting her globes in her hands, a seductive pose whether she means it or no.

Richard, once again to his credit, crosses his arms and stares back, "How, Cait? How in the hell do I get blamed for this? Not that I mind...but seriously, me?"

"Well, you're just sitting there, NOT FREAKING OUT!"

"When do I freak out? You know me, Cait, I've never been a terribly emotional person. My approach to life is: if it's happened, it can't be impossible, right?"

Thank you Marknew, Richard thinks, and a smile crosses his face.

Slowly, Caitlin nods, hands at her hips, as she observes Rich on the couch. "There's just something weird about you right now. How can you be so cool about this? And...you didn't always look like that, did you?"

Alarm bells go off in his head. After all, Cait shouldn't know that he looks differently. Given his natural knack at BS, however, Richard decided to play it off.

"Of course I didn't always look like this. I used to be a baby, and then I started to grow, and soon I was a toddler...I'm sure you know the story."

"Cut the shit. What am I going to do about these?" gesturing to her gazongas, "I don't know how I'll explain this! What will Tyler think? What will my parents think?!"

"Calm down! And look around you; see?" Richard moves over to the refrigerator, removing a picture of Caitlin at a homecoming dance, "Look at this; the picture's changed. You've been this big for years, apparently."

"No! That's when I put two of those strapless-bra things in, remember?"

"Well, according to your fridge, you've always been this chesty," commented Richard, "So I don't really know what to make of it."

"I don't either. I can't say I'm too fond of them, " replied Caitlin, "They're giving me back problems."

"But, Cait, honey, they're lovely! Maybe you're only getting back pain because you're not strong enough to handle boobs that large."

Caitlin hefts her chesticles once again, smirking, "Maybe you're right. I mean, I guess I could get used to them being this big, if I were only strong enough to handle them."

Awesome! She's going for it! thought Richard, just as Cait's phone rang.

"Hello? Oh, hey Elizabeth. What's up?"

[YttriumDervish]

I realize the format isn't copying; I'm on mobile as I post this; I'll clean it back up when it's easier.

Part 3
"Oh my gosh, you won't believe what just happened to me! Rich's over here, and we were just hangin'. Mmm-hmm. Anyway, my boob are, like, freakin' huge now! Seriously! You've got to come see! No, really, right now!"

As she chatted on and on, Richard sat on the couch, pondering his next move. Cait had been on the 'phone for months...er...minutes now, giving him ample time to analyze Cait's figure, deducing just how, well, ample he wanted to make her.

I've got to be careful, though. If I give her -too- much, something could go wrong. This feels like that sort of tale...

Lost in his own thoughts, as usual, he didn't notice Cait's final hundred-thousand or so words to Elizabeth, and was startled when she moved in front of his eyes, staring at him with intense eyes. Blue eyes.

Uh-oh...

"So, Rich, are you going to tell me what's going on here? I've known you for, what, fifteen years? After all this time, you think you can hide something this big from me?"

Richard swallowed, hard. Somehow, he'd already messed things up. Looking into her eyes he feels powerless, helpless...and so, Richard decides to tell her the truth.

"What are you talking about, Cait? You know I've never lied t-"
His sentence interrupted by a large, stiff object. Gesturing as he usually did when bullshitting, he'd struck some protrusion emerging from his lap. At which point, he begins to blush profusely, and looks back to Cait, embarrassed.

Cait's grinning, now, and squeezes her arms together, making her new cleavage pop out even further and eliciting a twitch from Lil' Richard.

I really need to rethink that name...

"I knew you liked me, Rich!" Cait was practically cheering as she jumped to a seat as near to Richard as her plump ass would allow. An ass which, without meaning to, Richard had already ballooned with muscle, so now was it not only plump, but hard, luscious..."I just never thought I'd be you're type. After all, with your body, you can get any girl you'd want. Why in the world would you want little..." at which time Cait pulled off her top in a swift, practiced motion, setting her large breasts free with a pleasing bounce and showing off a nicely toned torso, "...ol'..." sliding her breasts across Rich's tool while bringing her face just inches from his, "...me."
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She's lighting a cigarette...she's actually lighting a cigarette.

Of all the strange and delightful occurrences of the day, it might seem odd that Rich's first thought, post-coitus and post-coitus with Cait no less, was that of her cig. But, picture with me if you will, a young man, nerdy at best, who's never had more than a BJ in his life (something which he was never quite proud of), laying next to the girl of his dreams, well, almost, after rattling her bones for nearly an hour. Hell, he was actually laying with his hands behind his head!

"Thinkin' of you's workin' up my appetite..." Rich muttered, and began to laugh. Cait, a concerned look on her face, glances in his direction.

"So, Rich, want to tell me how I got these tits now? And this ass...it was never this nice before."

Shocked, again, Rich looks over at her. Damn, I knew she knew! I was just hoping...

"Richard, stop stalling. What's going on here? You didn't look that way before, and I certainly didn't look this way until you showed up, no matter what the pictures say. Now, elaborate, or I'll kick your ass." And with that proclamation, she flexed her free arm. An Alyssa Milano-sized bicep popped out, bringing Rich his seventh-odd shock today.

"Well...um...I...uh..." Richard, apparently having lost all of his eloquence, was just stupefied. The only thing that could save him now would be-

A knock on the door. Perfect. Sighing, Cait rose and slid on Rich's T-shirt, hanging down low enough on her small frame to cover her modesty, even if she was proceeded by a more-than-ample chest. "Hold it right there, Rich. That's Elizabeth. You're not finished explaining this yet, and I'm sure she'll want in on the fun."
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The man in black traveled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.

No, dude, this is MY story, remember? And -that- is the first line from a copyrighted book by a very famous author. Stop.

No, dude, it's the beginning of your dream sequence. Let -me- write the story, and let's let you...I don't know...be written? How's that?

...Go on then.

As it were, the man in black traveled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed. Although this gunslinger was named Richard, not Roland, and the world, rather than the gritty I'm-going-to-die feeling of a desert, had a more dreamlike quality to it? Okay?

Making his way at a measured pace, Richard followed the faint trail of the man in black, someone whom he had been chasing for a very long time. The unchanging wasteland was taking its toll on Rich, and he felt his time was near.

For hours he walked, not a change in the scenery to indicate a proper trail, but a trail Richard followed nonetheless. It was an intuited trail, a touched path more of the mind than of blazings. He had, some time back, spotted a glittering object on the ground, and he was now near enough to bend over and observe it. It appeared to be a coin, weathered to a sheen by the constant shifting of the desert sands, and Richard grasped for it. Almost touching it, a sudden bright light blinded him.
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"Wake up, asshole!" cried Elizabeth, having recently turned on the bedroom light. "I want boobs like Cait!"

Grumbling, Richard opened his eyes not on the harsh desert sun but on the equally harsh light of Cait's bedroom, a frowning (but still very attractive) Elizabeth standing over him.

"Men. Why do you have to fall asleep after sex, hmm? We like to cuddle, to talk, but nooo, you go to sleep!"

"Lay off him, Beth," Cait chimed in from beside, "He's had a long day, so it would seem."

Rising, covering himself with the bedsheet, and glancing at the two of them, Richard swallowed yet again. Somehow, his wish, despite his lawyer-esque wording, had gone awry, and Cait had discovered his secret. And now, it seemed, she was going to exploit him to her benefit.e

Well, so long as I keep getting benefits, she can exploit me all she likes.

"Okay, girls, let me get this straight. Both of you, for some reason, have this crazy idea that Cait didn't develop the chest of a still-enhanced Pam Anderson years ago, and that I had something to do with it? Lay of the reefer, girls."

At this comment, Rich is struck with another bright light; this one stemming from the very powerful slap Cait delivered to his face.

"Enough, Rich. Enough. Now, either you tell us what's going on..."

Shaking his head, and feeling a lump already beginning to rise on his cheek, Richard regards the two of them again. Elizabeth looks gorgeous, as always: dark hair curls about her shoulders, and her naturally dark complexion accentuated to an even-darker degree by regular trips to the tanning bed. Although small-chested, Elizabeth naturally possessed an athletic build, and her arms rivaled Cait's aforementioned bicep.

That is, her bicep before Richard's nap. Now, even relaxed, Cait's musculature was pronounced. Her chest was even bigger and higher than before; Richard, of course, realizing this development stemmed from enlarged and strengthened pectoral muscles. Her sandy blond hair hung loose, and was midway down her back, but it did nothing to disguise her large trapezius muscles. Her biceps, while not yet stretching the sleeves of Rich's shirt, were nearly there, and certainly would be were she to flex. Her behind had also apparently grown and firmed, as the lower portions of her cheeks were now exposed. And the legs attached were phenomenal. Strong, powerful quads bulged even in their relaxed state, and large calves jutted out, defined despited her flat-footed stance.

What the hell is going on here? Rich quickly pondered, careful not to delay too long for fear of another slap, She's built now! I didn't do that...did I?

Cait smirked, as if sensing Rich's chain of thought, and flexed, looking over at her bicep whilst pulling away the shirt sleeve and stroking it. Flexed, her arm was the size of a softball, even bigger than Rich's own! "Now, Richard. We'd like to hear your story now."

And so, Richard recounted the details of his story up to that point, including his thoughts of Cait growing muscles while they were doing the horizontal monster mash, leaving only the details of his dream out. Even so, rehashing his day this way, he still couldn't determine how Cait grew muscular. Every other time, including with himself, he was concentrating on making the changes. With her musculature, he had only been fantasizing, not concentrating.

"That's...I'd say crazy, but look at me." Cait smiled, and flexed her arm, which had grown by what appeared to be an inch again. "I can't say I don't like it."

"But it's my turn now, right Cait?" Elizabeth was beaming at the thought of becoming an amazon, "I want big titties and muscles, too!"

Grinning, Cait looked at Richard and, folding her arms across her chest. She takes a deep brea-

Stretching her t-shirt to near transparency and revealing her six pack abs, right?

*Sigh*

"Richard, I believe you heard Beth. She wants to be an amazon, too. I don't need to make you, do I?"

Richard chuckles, "Clearly, I enjoy this sort of thing, so why would you have to make me? Although, apparently, I'm not as good as I thought I was, since you know about my power AND seem to be growing without my influence."

Not finding the least bit of humor in his statement, Cait makes to slap Richard again, then drops her hand and grins, "Actually, I think I have a better idea, and I'm sure you'll enjoy this one, Richard."

Suddenly enveloped in a blue glow, Cait begins to grow, and rapidly. Not wearing much to start with, there's very little impediment as her height increases, muscles grow, and breasts swell outwards. The t-shirt finally rips, tearing about the shoulders, biceps and chest nigh-simultaneously, and flutters unceremoniously to the ground. Her growth completed, Cait stands somewhere in the area of seven feet tall, her head nearly brushing the low ceiling of her room. Starting from the bottom, her calves have swelled and hardened, to the extent that her feet probably couldn't touch, and were defined to a high degree. Her upper legs fit the picture, and quite frankly frightened Richard, as they appeared to be as large as his own muscular chest. Each. She had abs, too, power-gutted and striated so that every single abdominal and oblique were readily visible and powerfully deep. Richard doubted very seriously if he could throw a punch hard enough to even tickle such a stomach. Her breasts, now supported by inches of visible pectorals, were huge. No seamstress, he couldn't fathom a guess at a cup size, but it would certainly have to be custom ordered.

Never mind that, we'd never be able to manage the hooks. Let's kee-

ABOVE HER BREASTS...were shoulders wide enough to impede normal doorway travel, capped with deltoids that were insane. Her traps, too, would almost reach her ears. And her arms...she raised them into a double bicep flex, following Richard's eyes, and they exploded from her arms, bellied by deep triceps so defined you could clearly make out the three muscles.

Richard gulped. And outwards from Cait went the blue glow. Richard was cognizant enough to notice that it sort of folded over him, rather than enveloping him as it did everything else.

"Uh-oh."

[YttriumDervish]

Part 4: It's the Final Countdown

The blue enveloped him, surrounded him, but did not touch him. All that he could see, hear, and sense was blue, and nothing else. Richard was frightened; what had Cait done to him? The last of his recollection was of her using Richard's own power to make herself grow into a muscular powerhouse, her body releasing the blue light once the transformation was complete.

He had lost all sense of spatiality; it was as if his consciousness, held together, was all that had withstood the onslaught released by Cait. Floating, drifting in the void; these sensations were felt by Richard, yet with no point of reference, it was impossible to admit that he was moving at all.

For eons (or perhaps milliseconds, Time seemed to have to place here, either) Richard drifted in the blue void. He had experienced many thoughts, but, as in a dream, this could have transpired rapidly or painstakingly slowly. He was certain of one thing, however. Somehow, Murphy (the ill-written djinn that had originally given him such power) had managed to find a loophole in his wish, and exploited, as indeed Richard had been warned would happen.

None of it mattered, either. Thoughts came and went, but these thoughts were pure, containing no hint of emotion of any kind. Meditative consciousness at perfection.

Richard could feel one thing; power. It was as though the universe was constantly being rewritten, destroyed and rebuilt eternally. Yet, great power though this took, Richard's only notice of it was a tingling on the back of his neck and on the tiny hairs on his arms. Or, what he perceived to be his neck and arms, as he had long ago lost any real sense of his body.

After thousands of eternities of drifting, there was a change in the endless miasma of electric blue; an island of blackness, terrifying in its difference from the planar landscape yet oddly comforting to Richard. It was the first sign that he wasn't the only thing in this desolate place.

With all of his will, he propelled his self towards that island; it did not take him long to reach it, now that he had some sort of reference to use. He found it to be an inverted half-sphere, a flat surface at the "top" on which to land. And land he did, though this was still a relative term, as Richard no more had a physical body than a storybook character had.

On this island of solidity was another entity, and one that appeared human, much to Richard's delight. The figure had no obvious sexual characteristics, but Richard knew it was male. How he knew was beyond him, but he knew nonetheless; he also knew that this being wielded great power, but was not (fortunately) overtly hostile.

It was wearing a green fedora, ringed with brown. A green trench coat fell to its knees, and matching green pants adorned its lower body. A black shirt, with a blood red Omega, contained its upper body. And it was tall, rising at least six and half feet above the surface of the island (which Richard understood was created just for this meeting). The most remarkable thing about this being was its face; it had none, or, more precisely, it had all faces simultaneously. It was as if the face of every human being was translucently projected one after another atop the blank void where a face should permanently reside.

"Greeting, Richard. I am pleased to meet you."

Around Richard's consciousness, a body was formed; masculine, but vague, and made of what appeared to be the blue essence around him. Richard's feet settled on the island, and he regarded the man before him carefully.

"Who are you," Richard inquired of the being, "And why have you done this to me?"

Chuckling, the man responded, "I have many names but only one nature. You may call me Joshua, or whatever you wish."

Well, that's not very helpful, though Richard, still regarding the man with a bit of suspicion.

The man chuckled again, "No, I suppose it wasn't. Perhaps you will get a better understanding of my answer as we palaver further."

Richard stood, mouth agape, at Joshua's apparent mind-reading. The awareness he had gained when first reaching the island was slowly fading, as though the body in which he was encased was limiting his access to the Blue. "I...I don't understand."

Smiling, Joshua regarded Richard with a warm, almost loving look, "Dear Richard. You understand far more than I had intended you to. I never meant for you to reach this place; it appears you have evolved into something greater than I created."

Richard still stood, still with mouth agape. He...had nothing to say, it would seem. What he was being told was, well, unimaginable. Is this God?

Joshua smiled, "No, I am not a god, Richard. You, in fact, are closer to one than I shall ever be. I am merely an architect, a designer. But, my power extends only into worlds that I create; I can no more manipulate my own world than any man. You, however, have a remarkable gift. You are able to transform your world, thanks to your wish. But, something went wrong, didn't it?"

Finally able to speak, Richard agreed, "Hell yeah something went wrong! Now Cait's got my powers, and who knows what she'll do with them?! Apparently, she already killed me; now no one will be able to stop her!"

"You're wrong, Richard. You are not dead. I had to bring you here, now, or you soon would be. Murphy, the djinn who granted your wish, is a manifestation of the One for Whom All Things are Neither Possible nor Impossible. A manifestation which is an embodiment of Chaos Itself, and Chaos has indeed ensued, thanks to your summoning of him."

The more Joshua spoke, the greater the realization of just who he was came to Richard. At the end of this last statement, Richard was almost certain he knew who this being was.

"You're another character, aren't you? For some time now, I've felt like a character in someone's tale. I've even had conversations with the author; but, I had thought that was just my imagination. It's not, is it? I'm just a character..."

Joshua smiled, and Richard could see great knowing in that smile, "We are all characters, Richard, in someone's work. Just as Superman is a creation of Jerry Siegal, or Rorschach is a creation of Alan Moore, so are you and I creations of our writers. And even they are creations of some other mind."

Richard shook his head, "But Superman's a comic book character! I'm real! I have memories, history, and thoughts of my own!"

"And how do you know Superman doesn't?"

Richard pondered this. After a while, he nodded, "So, what am I supposed to do?"

Again, Joshua smiled, the smile of a patient father answering the question of his three-year-old, "Live, Richard. There is more work to be done."
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The blue light passed, extending into eternity as all the others had. Caitlin was grinning down at the prone Richard, still laying naked on her bed, "Wow, that was a rush! I think I'm going to enjoy this new power of yours, Richard!"

Richard was stunned. Wasn't he just...somewhere else...talking to...Cait?

Richard's memory of what had transpired in the Blue faded rapidly. All that was left was a Zen-like peace, an ease of mind which Richard had never felt in all of his life. It was as though everything was as it should be, even though there was a massively-muscled woman standing in front of him who had been created using magic powers. Richard was blank in mind and face, and apparently Cait did not care.

"Richard, Richard, Richard. I can not thank you enough for this power; I'm going to have so much fun with it. You'll see...if it pleases me to allow you such." Cait grinned, a sickening look in her eyes.

Next to her, Elizabeth was staring, slack-jawed, at her friend. The once petite little girl had grown into something...amazing.

"Caitlin...can you make me look like you?"

Turning to Beth, Cait looked shocked, almost as if she'd forgotten her friend was in the room. "Oh, Elizabeth! I'm so sorry, I guess I got carried away! Of course you can! Stand still, let me concentrate..."

And as Elizabeth stood, arms at her side, Caitlin began to concentrate. Elizabeth began to grow, slower than Cait had. Her limbs began to lengthen, pant legs and shirt sleeves slowly creeping upwards. At the same time, her clothing began to noticeable tighten as her muscles grew underneath.

After a few minutes, Richard decided to try and stop Beth's growth; one uberbuffed crazy chick was one more than he needed around. Beth's growth did indeed seem to slow as Richard exerted his power over Caitlin's. It didn't take long for Cait to realize what Richard was doing, however, and quickly snatched up her computer monitor (an ancient, huge CRT seriously in need of an upgrade), which she proceeded to hurl at Richard's head with frightening speed. He'd only enough time to move a few inches before the monitor collided with his temple, sending him rolling across the bed and onto the floor. Dazed beyond all belief (he'd also had foresight enough to strengthen his skull before the impact), Richard could do little more than lay on the floor, watching the transformation of Beth as blood oozed from his head.

Infuriated, Cait accelerated her transformation of her friend. Elizabeth's height and muscularity grew at an exponential rate. Her jeans shred around her as her quads and ass ballooned outwards with muscle. Her feet burst through the sandals they had been shod in as her chest and back simultaneously rent her blouse. She steadily grew in height and muscularity until she reached Caitlin's shoulders, and then her growth stopped.

Whereas Caitlin had the look of a supermassive bodybuilder, Beth's physique held to the appearance of a large fitness competitor, only much taller than the norm. Her large breasts were no where near the size of Cait's sweater puppies, but stood proud and firm on her chest. But the most impressive thing about Elizabeth's transformation was an intangible quality; she seemed to ooze raw sex.

Caitlin was a beautiful creature now, it was true, but Elizabeth, though smaller in every aspect, made Cait almost appear plain by comparison. The flair from her broad shoulders to tiny waist and back to round, firm hips was enough to give any Playboy lover wet dreams for years to come. Her complexion was beyond flawless; her bronzed skin glowed with it's own unearthly light. Her face was beyond all description; her eyes were radiant pools of green rimmed with gold, and her dark hair cascaded in ringlets down her back. If Van Gogh had painted the Vitruvian Woman instead of Man, Elizabeth would certainly have been it. She was an embodiment of pure sexiness.

Richard, semi-conscious next to the bed, was anything but flaccid. At the mere sight of Elizabeth, he was instantly hard, and, had he not been incapacitated, he would have lunged for her then and there, desperate for any pleasure he could derive from her. Her scent drove him crazy despite his predicament.

Caitlin, noticing Richard's condition, became angry once again, and was on him like white on rice. Grabbing him by the throat, she held him aloft and regarded him with sinister eyes.

"Well well, Richard. What should I do with you now?"

Richard, using the little bit of power he could muster, managed to make his neck just strong enough not to be crushed by her grip. Still, breathing was becoming difficult, and talking was impossible.

"I think we're done with him, Cait," Beth interjected, "Why don't you just take care of him, so he won't get in our way any longer?"

Caitlin grinned maniacally, "That's a good idea, Beth. You know Richard, we've known each other for a long time. I'm honestly surprised you hung around me; I've never really liked you. I've tolerated you more than anything else, keeping you around only because you were so easy to manipulate. And you've given me the ultimate gift now, Richard. I don't think I need you here anymore."

And with that, Cait slung Richard around, throwing him through the opposite wall with enough force to send him through it and crashing into the couch in the living room. She propelled herself forward, creating an even bigger gap in the wall, and threw a punch into Richard's gut, making him vomit all of his stomach's contents onto the floor and nearly killing him. He quickly repaired the most serious of the damage, keeping himself alive, but little else could be done before Elizabeth, coming up behind him, wrapped his arms behind his back and held him off to one side.

Such proximity to Elizabeth's astounding beauty brought another great erection out of Richard, which only seemed to disgust the two women. Elizabeth moved to just in front of him, and, positioning her hips, drew back her fist, aimed at Richard's face.

Another moment of Zen came over Richard, and he smiled in spite of himself. Elizabeth did not take this well, and she spit on Richard, "What the fuck is so funny? You know you're about to die!"

And Richard, looking calmly at the fist powering down on him face, kept the smile, and said simply, "Roger," before Cait's fist obliterated his face.

Disgusted again by the blood and other parts that now covered her, Elizabeth dropped what was left of Richard on the ground, "Eww, Cait! That was nasty! Why'd-"

Before she had the time to finish, all parts of Richard (including the parts on Elizabeth and the room, no longer technically "part" of Richard any longer) began to glow a familiar electric blue.

With a burst of light, localized this time but blinding in intensity, all parts of Richard vanished as his molecules separated into their individual atoms. This wreaked havoc on Elizabeth's beautiful face and side; any part flecked with Richard was burned horribly as a mini-thermonuclear reaction occurred. Her face was most blemished, and nearly half of it suffered greater-than-third-degree burns. She screamed in agony and dropped to the ground, Cait trying her best to mend the damage with her power and finding herself wholly unable to do so.

"That bastard," Cait snarled, "it's a good thing he's already dead."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Viewing the scene from the Blue, the entity with many names but one nature nodded. It hadn't turned out exactly as he'd planned, but Richard had managed to take something away from their meeting. And perhaps that something had been enough. His creation, his world, was about to be dominated by a maniacal woman with powers meant to be Richard's alone. The One, the being called Joshua's antithesis, had intervened in Joshua's private world, and that was unacceptable. But, short of getting into a losing confrontation with such as She, the being in the green trench coat and fedora would have to assert greater influence over his world, affecting change enough to stop The One from destroying his creation. If Richard had taking what was necessary from the Blue. If not...the story indeed was at an end.

Hope you liked it!

[NinjaStar]

That was unsatisfying. Why do women always turn into psychopaths in growth stories?

[tdg]

That was unsatisfying. Why do women always turn into psychopaths in growth stories?

Yeah, the evil nature of the women ruined this story.

[YttriumDervish]

I had thought the exposition by Joshua in the final chapter gave enough of an indication that none of the involved parties were truly acting under their own influences; that, and providing a segue for the girls to appear in another few story arcs, was the express reason I wrote it in the first place. The other stories appear incompletely elsewhere; I never brought them to a conclusion, as I  lost interest in the complex undertaking I had outlined in my notebooks.

Negative though they are, thank you anyway for your opinions. I'm sorry there was nothing good for you to take from this; when I do post further works, you're welcome to stay away from them, since they will clearly hold little interest for you.

[NinjaStar]

Oh. So you're one of those authors. Thanks for the heads up.

The reason why I responded so was because I was legitimately enjoying this until the typical "woman gets muscles, woman turns into a violent psychopath and her first impulse is to torture and kill all men" thing that appears in 99% of every story. If that's the kind of stuff you write, then goodbye. It's a shame, really.

[iome60]

I had thought the exposition by Joshua in the final chapter gave enough of an indication that none of the involved parties were truly acting under their own influences; that, and providing a segue for the girls to appear in another few story arcs, was the express reason I wrote it in the first place. The other stories appear incompletely elsewhere; I never brought them to a conclusion, as I  lost interest in the complex undertaking I had outlined in my notebooks.

Negative though they are, thank you anyway for your opinions. I'm sorry there was nothing good for you to take from this; when I do post further works, you're welcome to stay away from them, since they will clearly hold little interest for you.

then I hope, I really hope, that future developements of the plot will restore the usual, sunny behaviour that the girls had before their powerful transformation.
I read this with pleasure too, until the senseless cruelty began (cruelty may be fit for the plot, but I hate it anyway).

dark times have come, now let's hope they will soon end;
sir, I think I will read the next chapter with hope, and at least I will gie the story another chance to become healthy and meaningful: keep up a GOOD work!

[tdg]

I had thought the exposition by Joshua in the final chapter gave enough of an indication that none of the involved parties were truly acting under their own influences; that, and providing a segue for the girls to appear in another few story arcs, was the express reason I wrote it in the first place. The other stories appear incompletely elsewhere; I never brought them to a conclusion, as I  lost interest in the complex undertaking I had outlined in my notebooks.

Negative though they are, thank you anyway for your opinions. I'm sorry there was nothing good for you to take from this; when I do post further works, you're welcome to stay away from them, since they will clearly hold little interest for you.

Yeah, sure. Don't absorb legitimate criticism. I'm sure that will be a very smart move as an author 

[YttriumDervish]

I was just a bit peeved. I took the criticism to heart, largely because there was no mention of any good points, simply "well this sucks." I appreciate the input on the violence and their attitudes, but I certainly would've been less snippy had the original comments come with any note of positivity. There is, or rather was since this is nearing on 10 years old, a reason for them to have gone batshit nuts. Mostly so there could be a villian in my other arcs, which I had planned to be much more detailed and story-oriented than your typical masturbatorial aid. For there to be good guys, there have to be bad guys, and I simply introduced them first.

So no, I'm not one of those authors who'll write about a woman eating a man, defecating them, and then smashing them with their foot, or somesuch other nonsense. Richard changed reality at his whim, and the then-changed Cait got that ability. They might one day be redeemed, but I can assure you that they remain the only villians (well, there's a third, and some henchwomen). No further additions increase the sadistic characters. And I do apologize for being angry, but never in my life have I critiqued someone elses work without offering what I liked about it as well. It just got to me.

Also was not aware that I could not edit my posts with my membership level, so the spelling errors and janky formatting on this story will unfortunately stay for the time being. Now that I know, I'll make sure to run it through the wringer before putting it up here; I hate reading those as much as I hate putting my name on it.

[YttriumDervish]

I had thought the exposition by Joshua in the final chapter gave enough of an indication that none of the involved parties were truly acting under their own influences; that, and providing a segue for the girls to appear in another few story arcs, was the express reason I wrote it in the first place. The other stories appear incompletely elsewhere; I never brought them to a conclusion, as I  lost interest in the complex undertaking I had outlined in my notebooks.

Negative though they are, thank you anyway for your opinions. I'm sorry there was nothing good for you to take from this; when I do post further works, you're welcome to stay away from them, since they will clearly hold little interest for you.

Yeah, sure. Don't absorb legitimate criticism. I'm sure that will be a very smart move as an author 

If this violates the sites posting regulations, feel free to report this post, but I do want to respond to you directly. You did not offer legitimate criticism of my work as a whole.

Here's an example: this story is riddled with typos and grammatical errors, and the lack of proper formatting really makes it difficult to distinguish between the narrator consciousness and the story character. Some of the best tongue-in-cheek moments are easily lost as a result, and the story would've been better served if I'd just taken the ten extra minutes to check each post before I pressed submit. Additionally, the sadism at the end really changed the tune of the story to an undesirable degree, and it was enjoyable up to that point.

What you did instead was shit on the only work in this genre that I have ever been proud of, based on the very end of it, with no regards to what had been presented beforehand (which was of a substantially greater amount than that bit at the end). I know this is the internet, but a little bit of courtesy goes a long way into not sounding like a complete dickhead. At the very least I produced something to share with the community at large, and whether it met your tastes or not, that itself is worth recognizing.

[YttriumDervish]

 

[NinjaStar]

I was just a bit peeved. I took the criticism to heart, largely because there was no mention of any good points, simply "well this sucks." I appreciate the input on the violence and their attitudes, but I certainly would've been less snippy had the original comments come with any note of positivity. There is, or rather was since this is nearing on 10 years old, a reason for them to have gone batshit nuts. Mostly so there could be a villian in my other arcs, which I had planned to be much more detailed and story-oriented than your typical masturbatorial aid. For there to be good guys, there have to be bad guys, and I simply introduced them first.

So no, I'm not one of those authors who'll write about a woman eating a man, defecating them, and then smashing them with their foot, or somesuch other nonsense. Richard changed reality at his whim, and the then-changed Cait got that ability. They might one day be redeemed, but I can assure you that they remain the only villians (well, there's a third, and some henchwomen). No further additions increase the sadistic characters. And I do apologize for being angry, but never in my life have I critiqued someone elses work without offering what I liked about it as well. It just got to me.

Also was not aware that I could not edit my posts with my membership level, so the spelling errors and janky formatting on this story will unfortunately stay for the time being. Now that I know, I'll make sure to run it through the wringer before putting it up here; I hate reading those as much as I hate putting my name on it.

I don't believe I said "this sucks" or "you can't write for shit" when I first commented, merely that I was unsatisfied by how the story ended. I realize I could've said that I liked it to a point, but I wasn't delivering a criticism, but rather my opinion. I'm not going to apologize for stating what I thought so bluntly. I honestly didn't care about the grammatical errors because compared to other people who just slap together a wank-fest solid-wall-of-text type story, anything with actual decent formatting will automatically get a read from me. I abort reading as soon as I see huge, unbroken paragraphs, or two or more people having dialog in the same line, or generally bad grammar, etc. Drives me nuts when I see that.

I understand and appreciate your willingness to world-build and establish characters because nobody does that and that takes guts. But aside from the open ending, there wasn't any real indication that there was going to be more. For all I knew, that was it. With Cait turning into the bog-standard muscular psychopath as is so fucking common in stories and you more or less ending it there, perhaps you can forgive me for being so jaded and assuming the worst in a new author that I haven't come across before. Admittedly, she at least lost her abilities to infuse power to others, so the whole 'turn all women in the world into evil amazons, subjugate the men' thing was thankfully averted, but she's still evil and didn't really get any form of comeuppance aside from losing the power she stole from Richard (women never have to deal with karma at all in FMG stories). When you name dropped the likes of Lingster and Marknew, this also caused my pessimism to flare up because I don't like their stories either.

I just don't like stories where women are unrepentant evil, or even just bullies. It doesn't make much sense for me to live in mortal fear of the very women I find sexually attractive and being abused/raped/killed/humiliated or all four. What is the appeal of that? And like I said, these evil women never have to deal with the consequences of their actions because the authors don't write characters. The purpose of 99% of every story that passes through here is sex and muscle, and distressingly almost as common, violence and gore. I don't have a problem with justified violence, like self-defense, or trying to stop the bad guys, but most violent stories are violent for the sake of it and fetishize it in lieu of plot or characters. Women hurt and kill men just for the fuck of it and get away with it. Sometimes the men are made out to be horrible, but it really doesn't matter because their characterizations are so shallow and stereotypical it's readily apparent they exist to be beaten up or killed and the women would've beaten up and killed them anyway. Again, I don't see the appeal of being beaten up or killed as violently as possible.

Look, you obviously have passion and are a talented writer. I should've said as much in my first post. If you're willing to post the rest of the story arc, I'll read it. I'm sorry for writing you off so quickly, but maybe you can at least understand why from my point of view.

[magnusmagneto]

Whew, looks like there's a heated discussion here!

First, I'll offer my view on the story:  It was well-written, comparable in its prose and delivery to most modern American fiction authors.  An interesting setup, and a world that draws you in.  Ultimately though, I have to agree with the others - I came away unsatisfied.  Not so much because the girls became evil, but because it ended so violently and abruptly.  I think you could've done a lot more with the premise - really explored Cait gaining more and more power over time while Richard loses his; a slow duel for magical supremacy.  This could have even extended to the characters warping various attributes of reality itself as they 'battled'.  (And of course, the longer the battle goes on, the more power flows from Richard into Cait)

I personally understand how difficult it can be to sit down and write out a story, but man - you've got a really neat concept here.  Maybe it'll inspire a story of my own..!  (reality warping powers transferring from a male to a female is one of my favorite sub-tropes in the genre, I just haven't actually written a story like that yet)

Also it's possible I overlooked something (I often miss things), but I couldn't actually figure out how Cait stole his power.  Feel free to explain in case it was something obvious I missed!


As for the topic of criticism:  As I've experienced first-hand, morality is a hot-button issue for readers of this niche.  To bring up my own stories (since I know you're a reader Yttrium, though how much you've read I'm not sure)  I never really considered Tara to be immoral in the original Mother Knows Best, yet a few people raised some very sharp pitchforks towards me as a result of that series.  I even received notes and anonymous You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login messages about "I hope you burn in hell" and the main instigator has a journal comment saying he wishes he could blow up my computer,  LOL.  My transfer story B+K alternate was met with a fair bit of criticism too, one guy telling me that Kelly in that incarnation was the most abhorrent character ever written, or something to that degree.

On the flip side, I sometimes visit anonymous message board threads about this fetish, and people have actually gone out of their way to tell me that they really want me to make some truly evil girls.  A few notes have also indicated this desire, and a previous poll had a huge majority asking for a "truly evil babe" to star in a tale.

Ultimately, I think that most people in general have difficulty giving criticism.  Most comments on my stories tend to either be "This was great, loved it!", pointing out a single typo, expressing dislike, or even something completely non-sequitur.  Sometimes I do receive really great critique though, and I try to take it to heart.


But yeah - cool concept that really got my mind whirring, but unfortunately the ending didn't do much for me.  If you ever do revisit the idea, I'll definitely be watching - and maybe someday I'll make a story of my own inspired by it =)