From the Archives: Afterlife (Patreon)

“Hold the line!  I think this is the last of them,” Aric cried, a brawny arm flexing as he vaulted the nearby tombstone.  His mud-slick boots slammed into a rotting chest, staggering the zombie long enough for his gleaming sword to swing around and finish it off.  The enchanted blade had cost a small treasury, draining a month’s worth of loot that the russet-haired adventurer had purloined during countless hours of dungeon diving.  Gold, gems, antiques; he’d traded them all specifically for the unassuming blade’s ability to cut through undead foes like wet tissue paper.  He’d heard rumors about the putrid monstrosities lumbering through the gnarled forest surrounding Highmoor cemetery and wanted to be prepared, but instead of exaggerating the problem the rumors didn’t come close to the horrible reality.

Aric and the others had been slashing, smashing, and blasting their way through seemingly endless waves of undead, slowly inching their way up the hillside behind the crumbling remains of Highmoor Manor towards the ancient burial ground.  No one knew what happened to Cornelius Highmoor other than he hadn’t been seen in centuries, a common enough fate for arcane practitioners who stretched beyond their abilities, though rumors spoke of his spirit still lingering around the estate.  But a haunted manor was the least of the group’s concerns.  Practically speaking, after having been abandoned for generations the overgrown terrain served to further hinder their movements, as well as providing perfect cover for a half-buried skeletal arm just waiting to reach out and claw into them.  Though they were mostly barren, the twisting, shadowy branches of the surrounding trees knotted together in a surprisingly dense canopy overhead, obscuring the small sliver of moonlight that managed to pierce the blanket of clouds filling the midnight sky.  It was more like fighting in a cave than a forest as the moss-covered stumps of fallen trees jutted up like stalagmites around them, each one a potential stumbling block for an unwary warrior.

They’d attempted to scout the cemetery during the day but came up empty.  All the stories they’d heard involved creature sightings or people going missing at night, so, with no other choice, the group waited in the ruined mansion at the base of the hill until just after sunset.  Amonar’s scrying indicated that the source of the disturbance was the mausoleum next to the large lake at the center of the cemetery, but having a destination and reaching it were two very different things.  They’d inspected the small stone structure during the day and had found nothing but an empty tomb.  No secret doors, no hidden passageways; nothing.  But as soon as they’d started up the hill that evening the undead had come rushing down to meet them like a foetid avalanche.  Skeletal remains, bodies covered in rotting flesh, forms that were humanoid, animal, and twisted combinations thereof had all been vomited forth from the nocturnal woodland, as if not just the cemetery but the entire hill was packed full of corpses.

Though their pace had been glacial, Aric, Durgolin, and Amonar were finally nearing the epicenter.  None of them were doing particularly well, but turning back wasn’t an option.  The fourth member of their party, Brugo, a hulking, half-orc warrior, had fallen at the cemetery gates under a particularly heavy onslaught, which, for Aric, meant the remaining trio would either find vengeance or be reunited with their friend in death.  They’d watched in helpless horror as Brugo’s emerald frame was buried beneath a writhing pile of gnashing bodies, his insistent cries for them to leave him and carry on echoing above the wordless, undead moans.

They’d done as their friend wished, but the rush of fury that accompanied the half-orc’s demise had been a short-lived fuel.  Aric’s ample muscles ached, his athletic frame teetering on the edge of exhaustion, Amonar’s magic was nearly spent, and Durgolin’s hammer hit with less force each time the stocky dwarf swung it.  They were fighting a war of attrition, and it was doom for them all unless they could choke off the seemingly limitless supply of bodies.

“The last of them for now, you mean,” Durgolin panted, his mountainous shoulders heaving beneath the heavy plates of his armor.  The normally gleaming brass was covered in all manner of mud and ichor, matting the young dwarf’s chocolate beard and covering his flat, square face.

“We should run while we can.”  Amonar’s tall, golden frame trembled beneath his embroidered navy robes as he leaned on his staff for support.  The slender elf’s lean build was deceptive, Aric knew his friend could swing the intricate metal rod with enough force to remove a head when the need arose, but now that wiry muscle seemed as spent as the wizard’s magic.

“No.  Not after what they did to Brugo,” Aric grunted.  He wiped a sticky layer of grime from his face, partially revealing the rugged features that had made as much of a name for the handsome mercenary as his sword arm.  His crimson tunic was darkened with blood and thin rivers of the warm liquid ran down the sides of his face like strands of his ruddy hair.  He held up the sword which was no longer illuminated but once again flat, dull metal.  “Look.  There aren’t any more of them around.  Maybe we finally exhausted their supply?  We’ve come too far to turn back now.”

“You know I’m always up for a fight,” Durgolin said, his mountainous arms flexing as he reached around and refastened his shaggy mane with a fresh hair-tie.  “But we’re not going to stand a chance against whatever sent these…things…if we charge in half dead to begin with.”  He kicked at one of the corpses with a metal boot, a fresh look of disgust crawling across his face.  As they’d worked their way up the hill the undead forms had grown increasingly unique, appearing less and less human with each wave.  The bodies trying to claw them to pieces had started off as standard zombies, if there was such a thing, and though they were fighting animated corpses, those corpses were at least recognizable as human or animal.  But as they progressed further into the forest, elements of animal and human features began to merge, and as they battled their way to the heart of the cemetery those amalgamations had become abominations.  The last horrid surge had consisted of unrecognizable monstrosities, shambling nightmares in all manner of impossible shapes and sizes.  They’d fought creatures with too many limbs and heads, as if several people had been mashed together, and there had been towering, twisted frames alongside broad, squat lumps of teeth and claws.  The four of them had fought their fair share of trolls, giants, and ogres, but the terribly familiar faces made it clear that these things had once been people like themselves.  “We have a better idea of what we’re facing.  Let’s go get some help and…”

Durgolin was cut off when Aric’s sword started glowing once more.  The faint illumination quickly became blinding, accompanied by the sound of churning water from the lake behind them as a colossal hand reached up from the depths.  The ground shook as the rotting fingers slammed down and clawed deep into the mud, consuming several tombstones in the process while another emerged from the inky surface and blindly clutched at the slick terrain, trapping the group between the gigantic palms.  The middle of the lake seemed to rise in a growing bubble before the water spilled away to reveal the top of a massive, decaying head that was already considerably larger than the mausoleum that stood nearby.

It was the last thing any of them saw before the light from Aric’s sword gave out.  The blazing blade flared, then shattered, in the ginger fighter’s stunned grip.  His vision overwhelmed by the unexpected flash, he tried to bark out orders above the sound of churning earth and water, but no sound came.  He roared until his throat was raw and swung wildly with his stump of a blade in the darkness, wondering if he’d been deafened as well as blinded.  He couldn’t hear Durgolin or Amonar nearby, and his fear that he’d been deafened turned into a question about whether or not he was even still alive when he realized that he couldn’t feel the slick ground beneath his feet, either.  Nor was he being held in the giant hands as was his next thought, but seemed to hover in a dark void, unable to will himself forward or speak or do anything other than float in the empty space.

Aric didn’t know how long he bobbed in the emptiness.  It was long enough for him to calm down and begin to question his life’s choices, specifically whether his shunning of higher powers had been a wise decision.  He’d always resented the idea of some far off deity dictating his actions, but now, faced with an eternity of nothingness, a little oversight seemed like a small price to pay.

That thought grew stronger when the void began to glow around him, a piercing light cutting through the nothingness and stabbing to the core of his being.  All at once the gentle bobbing turned into a full-body ache, and as his eyes fluttered open Aric found himself no longer hovering in a void or standing in a nocturnal burial ground but instead laying on a comfortable bed in a well-appointed room.  He struggled upright, blinking in a daze at the luxurious tapestries hanging from the stone walls and at the plush rugs that warmed and softened the hard ground.  Looking down at himself, Aric was both relieved and surprised to see his bare, chiseled torso clean and unmarred beneath its wiry dusting of russet hair.  The caked on mud, blood, and undead remains had been washed away, and the fit warrior felt a slight flush of embarrassment when he saw the outline of his semi-hard cock beneath the thin sheet that covered his lower half.  He wasn’t shy about his strapping body, but the thought that his naked frame had been manhandled by strangers while unconscious was an awkward one.

That embarrassment grew stronger when he finally noticed the grinning, dark-skinned stranger sitting in one of the plush chairs next to the fireplace at the far end of the room, watching him sleep.  The man appeared to be middle-aged, with short-cropped salt-and-pepper hair and a body that was notably broad-shouldered and well-built.  Obvious muscle could be seen straining against the sleeves of his cream colored silk shirt, and Aric noted the deep valley between the man’s powerful pecs through the unlaced opening at his chest.

“Not too fast,” the man said, his voice unnaturally smooth and deep.  “That was quite the beating you and your friends took.”

Aric’s instincts kicked in, a practiced composure keeping the alarm from showing on his otherwise calm features.  He flashed his most charming grin as he scooted back against the padded headboard, letting the sheet ride precariously low.  It came to a stop just above the obvious lump of his cock, a tantalizing strip of ginger bush showing.  “Do I have you to thank for keeping us alive,” he said, purposely emphasizing the word “us” as he let the other man drink in the sight of his battle-built muscle.  Man or woman, Aric knew how to use his impressive body to get what he wanted without always having to swing a sword.  Not a metal one, at least.

The man returned a devastating smile of his own and nodded.  “Unfortunately, you also have me to blame for putting you in danger to begin with.  Usually my guards are able to subdue any trespassers relatively quickly, but you and your friends proved quite the challenge.  When the big guy started to stir I figured it was time for me to step in lest any unintentional harm come your way.”

Aric bristled at the phrase “unintentional harm,” the image of Brugo being swarmed by the horde having been burned into his memory.  He hoped it didn’t show as he met the man’s unwavering gaze.  “And you are…?”

The man stood and gave a slight, flourished bow.  The sturdy legs filling out his burgundy pants appeared just as well-formed as the rest of him, as did the obvious bulge that easily dwarfed the ginger’s own impressive endowment.  “Cornelius Highmoor, at your service.”

Aric couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at that.  “THE Cornelius Highmoor?”  He motioned around the opulent room with a quick laugh.  “Your manor seems to have been tidied since I saw it last.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Cornelius shrugged.  “Don’t worry…all will be explained in due time.  For now, you’ve been hovering between the slumbering and waking worlds for days and must be parched.  We’ve been giving you a healing draught to tend to your wounds, but since you’re awake I think wine should suffice, yes?”

Aric watched as Cornelius picked up a small golden bell from a nearby table, its light tinkle followed by the sound of feet padding down the corridor outside.  The other man never broke his gaze, and as soon as the servant entered the room Aric knew why.  Cornelius’s smile grew wide at the red-haired hunk’s look of shock when the naked young man walked in holding a tray.  Based on the blonde’s fit, well-muscled build Aric guessed him to be one of the local guards that had gone missing, but it wasn’t the newcomer’s lack of clothing that he found shocking.

Instead of two legs, the man had four.  From the waist up his brawny torso appeared average, if a bit more well built than most, but things quickly changed at the blonde’s lower half.  Where a set of trim hips should have been, his abdomen appeared to bend and thrust backwards while a pair of legs had sprouted to support the warped posture.  The elongated midsection traveled for a few feet before terminating at a round, ample rear and another set of legs, and though the limbs appeared human in size and shape, the heaping package that hung between the back legs was much more equine in scale.

“Ah, thank you, Justin,” Cornelius said, reaching down to rub the flat patch of stomach between the front set of legs.  Aric watched the blonde beam while his oversized cock twitched noticeably, seeming perfectly content with his warped shape.  “Stick around, please.  You can help us give Aric the tour in a moment.  I’m sure he’d like to check in on his friends.”

“Yes sir,” Justin nodded, his four, bare feet padding on the smooth stone as he turned in the stunned red-head’s direction.

“No need to be so alarmed,” Cornelius said, his tone as casual as ever.  “As I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, Justin used to be a fighter like yourself until he wandered onto my grounds one evening.  But he’s much happier now than when he was a lowly member of the royal guard, aren’t you,” the dark-skinned man asked, giving the blonde’s bare cheeks a light pat.

“Oh, yes,” Justin said, nodding eagerly.  His pendulous cock was almost fully hard now, and Aric couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of such a beast.  “This is so much better than fighting all the time.  I think you’ll really like it here,” he smiled, his tone dripping with sincerity.

Aric started to ask what the four-legged man meant by his last statement but he didn’t get the chance before his world turned upside down.  As soon as Cornelius took a step forward his vision seemed to telescope, the chamber suddenly growing in size around him.  Aric’s heart started racing when he quickly realized the room’s set up was a clever optical illusion, that his surroundings were much larger than they first appeared and that the other two were farther away.  The panicked man tried to deny what he was beginning to suspect as the pair grew larger upon their approach, but by the time they were within a few feet there was no getting around it.  Aric wasn’t lying on a large bed in a normal sized room, he was on a tiny bed in a very large one.  And considering how he filled the mattress, the only remaining outcome was that he wasn’t the size he should have been.  “What…what’s happening?  What is this…” he sputtered.  The spell finally broken, he registered the higher pitch to his voice for the first time and drew back instinctively when a large hand reached down and tousled his hair.

“Apologies.  I couldn’t resist a little fun,” Cornelius said.  He guided the chalice to Aric’s lips, grinning at the way the shrunken man paled when he needed both trembling hands to grip the regular-sized cup.  “And to answer your question, a little more than half your previous size is what you lost.  But don’t panic, what’s left is all in the same place.”

Aric gasped when Cornelius tore the sheet away, revealing his naked frame in full.  As promised, at least from his own perspective, nothing about the redhead’s body appeared altered.  It wasn’t until Cornelius reached down to squeeze a thigh, demonstrating just how much of a size difference there was, that Aric’s stomach dropped.  If what the wizard said was true, that meant he’d be lucky to come to most peoples’ waists, let alone stand a few inches taller than them.  He wouldn’t even be able to wield a sword anymore as now a dagger would seem large in his tiny hands.  And worse still, his formerly impressive endowment was now pitifully small by comparison, the tiny organ surging confusingly at the bigger man’s touch.  “What did you do,” he managed to squeak, his heart racing for entirely different reasons.

Cornelius stepped back and rubbed his chin as if inspecting his work.  “Creating zombies and twisting the undead gets so boring after a while.  Don’t get me wrong, it was fun for a few decades, but once I got the hang of things it occurred to me that living flesh would make a much better canvas.  Don’t you agree?”  The shrunken man yelped when Cornelius reached down and scooped him up, his stomach fluttering at the way he was so easily manhandled.  Aric’s cock throbbed as he was lowered down onto Justin’s back, the blonde feeling absolutely massive as he wrapped his arms around him to keep from slipping off.  The diminished fighter’s balance was still thrown off by his new perspective, but he knew it was more than support he sought as his stubby fingers clutched at Justin’s firm muscle.  Aric was embarrassed at the way his churning balls and rigid cock dug into the blonde’s back as he straddled him with his shortened legs, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.  “Believe it or not, I really don’t want to hurt anyone,” Cornelius continued.  “That was the whole point of my studies; an end to pain, not the creation of more.  In my haste I thought that I could create an army of the undead to enforce a kind of peace, but when I saw how they clung to those violent impulses even in death I knew I had to start earlier than that.  So I left.  An army of aggressive undead tends to draw attention and I needed a place to work.  We’re still at the Highmoor estate, only one that’s been moved a half-step out of sync with the rest of the world.  It’s quieter this way, and I have room to expand and experiment without being disturbed.  My previous creations now serve to bring people here if an unwary soul ventures this way at night.  I don’t send them out looking for trouble…they only grab those that trespass where they don’t belong.  And only after sundown, which is quite a small window when you think about it.  After midnight is when we’re closest to the original reality, as your wizard friend guessed.  The gateway actually is in the mausoleum, but that’s why you didn’t find anything during the day.”

Aric’s chest heaved, both from panic and the painful lust surging through him as Justin began to trot behind Cornelius out of the room.  The shifting of the blonde’s muscle unintentionally kneaded his aching balls, and the shrunken stud couldn’t help but occasionally grind his oozing little cock into Justin’s back.  In response, the former guard would only look over a shoulder and grin while reaching down to give Aric’s tiny feet an encouraging squeeze.  The dazed redhead tried to focus on where they were headed, but the stone corridors all looked the same in his addled state.  Colorful tapestries and sconces on the walls, the occasional side table, and rugs down the center, repeated over and over as they walked past countless doors.  “How…how many people have you done this to,” he stammered when a bald, four-armed mountain of muscle cheerfully walked by.  The naked, beefy man simply smiled and waved at Aric, his fat log of a cock making the shrunken warrior’s mouth water.  Already the little fighter wanted to know what it would feel like to be held in those burly arms, to have all of those large, rugged hands on him at once while the bulky brute towered over him.  He whimpered and blushed at the thought, the pace of his humping against Justin’s back picking up speed.

“Don’t feel embarrassed,” Cornelius said, giving Aric’s shoulder a light pat.  “What you’re feeling now is part of the gift.  All those violent, aggressive impulses turned into something much more pleasant for everyone.  My hope is that soon I’ll be able to extend the reach of my sculpting, but until I can turn whole cities into my glorious creations you can count yourself amongst the lucky few.  Hundred, that is.  This version of the manor is much larger than it looks.  A bit uninspired with all the recreations, but I’m a necromancer, not an interior decorator.  You’ll find it’s quite comfortable, and you’ll learn your way around in time as you meet everyone.  I know you’re probably wondering about your friends, so why don’t we start with them?”

Aric braced himself as Cornelius opened one of the arched wooden doors, but he still couldn’t hold back a gasp at the sight of Amonar.  The golden-skinned elf was as naked as he and Justin, propped up against the back of his bed while he cradled an impossibly massive cock against his whipcord body.  The room around them appeared to be the exact same as the one Aric had woken up in, save for the size of the furniture, but he was more focused on his friend’s altered endowment.  The thick, rigid organ was nearly the size of Aric, a pair of equally hulking balls causing a steady stream to ooze like a fountain as the lean wizard stroked and licked at the monstrous member with a dazed grin on his sharp face.

The lapping elf paused at their entrance, his smile growing when he saw the tiny redhead.  “Aric?  Is that you?  You’re so little,” the wizard giggled, running his hands along the underside of his fleshy pillar.  “Look at my new staff!”

Cornelius shrugged at Aric’s puzzled expression.  “As far as wizards go, your friend had more or less reached his potential.  I thought it was fitting to let him focus on his body instead of his mind after so many years of study.  He seems to agree, don’t you Amonar?”

The golden man nodded excitedly, his matching hair matting with cum as the flowing locks brushed against the slick organ.  There seemed to be a similar residue on everything nearby, but Amonar didn’t appear bothered in the least.  “It’s so fun,” he cheered.  “Wanna come see?”

“Aric can play with you soon,” Cornelius said, taking a step back when Amonar’s inflated cock began to ooze in earnest.  “Let me finish showing him the others first.”  The shrunken man didn’t know what to say as Justin trotted back out into the corridor.  He hated that the sight of his formerly shrewd friend in such a state turned him on the way it did, but he was already eager to clutch the wizard’s cock against him the same way he clung to the blonde’s torso.  “I believe the other two are in here,” Cornelius said after stopping a few paces down the hall.

In his overwhelmed state, the door was already open by the time Aric registered the use of “two.”  His heart leapt at the sight of a green-skinned figure waiting in the now-familiar bedroom, but quickly dropped when he saw Brugo’s new size and shape.  Where he’d once been a towering wall of granite muscle, the burly half-orc was now slight and slender.  Like Aric he’d lost a chunk of his height, now standing at shoulder-level to most others, but unlike the redhead his proportions had changed significantly.  Brugo’s arms were long and slender, his torso thin and shapeless, while a plump, round rear matched his soft, supple new thighs.  Even his face had changed, his rugged, square features becoming refined and almost exaggeratedly pretty.  The only lingering sign of his former size was the girthy beast that looked jarringly large against his petite new body.  “Bru…Brugo?  Is that really you?”

“Aric!  We’ve been so worried,” the green-skinned beauty chirped in an equally softened voice.  His pendulous cock and hefty balls swung as he scampered over and put a hand on Aric’s thigh, the formerly calloused palm now incredibly soft.

The tiny man couldn’t help but lean into his friend’s embrace, his head spinning at the lack of muscle on the former giant’s new body.  “Thought we lost you back there,” he finally said, a fresh wave of crimson blossoming from head to toe at the way his friend eyed his tiny new cock.

“Same.  Imagine my surprise when I woke up here.  Hell, guess you don’t have to imagine, do you little guy,” Brugo laughed.  He flexed a thin arm, showing how even his tusks had refined when he flashed a broad grin.  “I know it’s a lot, but Cornelius isn’t lying.  This place is great.  Isn’t it, Durg?”

Aric had been so focused on finding his friend alive that he hadn’t noticed the other figure in the room until the massive shape lumbered forward.  Though he bore the brunette Dwarf’s face, the rest of the heaping body was foreign, seeming to have gained all the excess flesh that he and Brugo lost.  Instead of being the shortest of the bunch, Durgolin now competed with Amonar for height, all while retaining a body that was nearly as wide as it was tall.  The formerly squat man was a waddling mountain, with shoulders so broad and arms so thick that they hung at an awkward angle against the round, lumpy boulder that was his muscle gut.  Thighs bigger than Aric’s entire body pressed together as they supported the imposing bulk, with a set of comically round cheeks jutting out behind. The stocky brunette’s cock was as wide and girthy as ever, but even at three times its original size it still looked small against the surrounding bulk with its ample coating of chocolate hair.

“About time your tiny ass woke up,” Durgolin grunted, scooping Aric from Justin’s back.  The shrunken man whimpered when his enlarged friend hefted him as if he weighed nothing.  Durgolin’s beefy pistons felt like they were made of steel as they clutched Aric against the heaping slab of a chest.  It was all too much.  As worked up as he was, the sensation of Durgolin’s soft pelt caressing every inch of his shrunken frame pushed Aric over the edge.  With a squeaky grunt the diminutive hunk blasted a surprising amount for his size, launching load after load up into Durgolin’s beard as he spasmed helplessly in his friend’s oversized arms.  “Some things’ll never change,” the towering dwarf laughed, giving Aric’s perky little bottom a squeeze while the other man finished.

“I don’t know…someone found you attractive enough to cum.  That’s pretty new,” Brugo laughed.

“Don’t forget you’re not the big one anymore,” Durgolin countered, hefting Aric over so that he was supported with one arm.

“Beg to differ,” the slender half-orc purred, thrusting his hardening monster in their direction.

“Eh, the wizard’s still got you beat,” the brunette giant shrugged, wringing the cum from his beard with his free hand.

Aric tried to keep his thoughts together.  He tried to ignore the bliss coursing through him, and to shut out the sound of his friends’ usual banter.  He knew it was all wrong, that they’d been warped and were experiencing an imposed contentment as a result of the wizard’s machinations, but that did nothing to dull the pleasure that he felt.  He knew that Cornelius was planning something big, that if he wasn’t stopped the whole world would become his twisted, carnal creations, but Aric didn’t actually want to go anywhere or try and flee to warn anyone.  He wanted to finally get a chance to see what his shrunken body could do.  Even after his release he practically hummed with desire, as if his reduced frame couldn’t contain his oversized libido.  His fingers laced in Durgolin’s curly chest hair, he shook his head and looked over at Cornelius, trying in vain to muster something akin to worry.  “So…what now?”

The older man smiled and gestured at Justin and the three friends.  “More of this.  As much as you want.  Consider it a reward for your participation in my experiments.  You’re free to roam the manor and get to know your new family, and if you want something to do like Justin here you’re always able to help out.  And if you get curious about a new look, I’m sure we can make something happen.”

Aric could feel himself slipping.  “But…but what about the cemetery?  What about all the zombies we…”

Cornelius waved a dismissive hand, cutting the little hunk off.  “Nothing to worry about.  They’re already glued back together and prowling the grounds.  Shouldn’t be long before you have some new friends to play with.”