seven 2025/01/23(Thu)15:04 No. 1102741 ID: 4a0685
File 173767347193.png - (847.32KB , 1040x944 , Behemoth1.png )

You stare guiltily at Gramps, your wolf-like ears flattened against your head. The empty bean sacks are scattered around the kitchen.

"You ate ALL the biodiesel beans, Daniel?" Gramps growls, his lupine face burning that stare into you. His fur-covered hands grip his walking cane tightly, before raising and slamming it into the farmhouse's precarious floor. "Those beans were our ENTIRE trade crop for the month! How are we supposed to buy supplies now?"

"I'm sorry," you mumble, looking down. "I can't help it. I'm starving all the time." You gesture to your body, muscles bulging impossibly. Your biceps look like oversized watermelons, far beyond what a normal human - or half-beast - should have. Not only that, your nether region had gotten ridiculous too, testicles like pumpkins and a cock as thick as a young tree trunk. The second-hand pajamas you're wearing can barely hold on, you've even had to tie a bedsheet around your waist to stay decent.

"See? This is why you need to stick to farming," Gramps says, switching tactics. "Reliable work. It'll keep you fed - always. Not like that other bullshit you keep talking about."

You lift your head, a spark of defiance cutting through your meekness. "T-The world isn't as... isolated as it was in your time! They're rebuilding! There's need for a-!"

> A) Mechanic
You know how to build and fix machinery beyond basic maintenance, to an advanced amateur level

> B) Apothecary
You know how to make primitive drugs and treat basic illnesses with them, to an advanced amateur level

> C) Mathematician
You're familiar with maths in general, such as statistics, techniques for large calculations, etc, to an advanced amateur level

Gramps cuts you off. "Need? And who's gonna trust a half-beast[i] for it, eh?"

He sighs, his beret slightly askew. "Look. You just need to control yourself, Daniel, OK? Just eat normal portions and you'll be fine."

"H-how do you [i]know that?" you stammer, embarrassed and desperate. "This isn't normal. Look at me!"

[1/3]

seven 2025/01/23(Thu)15:05 No. 1102742 ID: 4a0685
File 173767353696.png - (715.57KB , 1740x1074 , Behemoth2.png )

...This morning, you had woke up and your muscles had grown again. Impossibly large. And your cock and balls kept swelling bigger and bigger, growing like a mad bee sting. Your body felt like it was eating itself from the inside, demanding more, and more fuel as it kept growing quicker, and quicker. This wasn't puberty - it couldn't be. You were well past that, in your 20s. This had to be something else entirely.

It wasn't all bad though, at least you got to look fucking amazing. And you kept getting stronger, and stronger. And not only that - the little scars here and there you had earned from your hard farm work? Gone. You hardly got blisters now too, but when you did - they closed up in hours, not days...

[2/3]

seven 2025/01/23(Thu)15:07 No. 1102743 ID: 4a0685
File 173767363543.png - (363.21KB , 509x509 , Behemoth3.png )

"We should go into town," you suggest weakly. "Maybe someone can help -"

"Help?" Gramps interrupts, hackles rising. "From those humans who treat us like shit, Daniel?"

Before you can respond, a thunderous crash outside makes you both freeze. The ground trembles. Something massive is moving through the bean fields.

You rush to the window and feel your breath catch. A beast - part wolf, part insectoid, towering like a living dinosaur - lurked past the trees that bordered your fields, until it lurched towards the beans - its mandibles suddenly chewing through the biodiesel plants with terrifying efficiency.

"We should get the gas gun," you say, guilt making your voice tight. "Protect what's left!" It always had its tank full of biodiesel for situations just like these.

Gramps shakes his head, grabbing your shoulder. "Daniel, you're more important than any beans. We're leaving, get in the truck."

"We can shoot it, Gramps!" you insist. "It's huge, easy to hit! If one of us reloads as the other shoots, then-"

"Daniel!" Gramps yelled. "It's too fucking huge to kill, understand?! How many shots do you think you're going to fucking need, eh? It'll be right in your face before you get enough in 'em!"

"Fuck, they didn't use to be this big!" you exhale.


> A) Get into the truck with Gramps and drive away to safety, leave the beans behind.

> B) Get into the truck with Gramps and drive down to town to warn the humans of the beast.

> C) Tell Gramps to cover you with the gas gun, and charge at the beast with a lumber axe.

> D) Write-in

[3/3]

C: PUNCH

C)We clearly have the mind of a mathematician, even if the rest of us isn't

C)These muscle gotta be good for something.

B) hopefully one day you'll develop a drug to control your body.

C) what else are muscles for?

C- And we can see the math Beautiful Mind style in real time so we can better fuck white up!
C- GET' UM! IF BULLETS WON'T KILL IT WE CAN JUST RIP IT'S HEAD OFF!!!

>>1102742
Yeah thats fucking insane you look like you cant even touch your own nipple or bicep how the fuck are you standing up why is your waist so narrow how can you possibly eat enough??
Gramps is right you literally need to eat barely anything just enough to fit on a plate that is not a tall pile or you will be impossible to move more then now

Suggestion 2025/01/25(Sat)09:03 No. 1102860 ID: 4a0685
File 173782459176.png - (1.88MB , 2054x2054 , Behemoth4.png )

In moments like these, you sometimes wished you could be back to your childhood, when things were easier. You didn't have to think about rationing the beans. Being set aside by humans. Lending money to survive. Paying rent on your human landlord for the farmland you toil on. Having no friends.

...You had your books. Your books on recreational maths, little puzzles that you could spend hours staring at and figuring out. It was something that you could enjoy alone, or while mindlessly doing farm work; it was perfect. And fun. Beautiful. Comforting...

[1/3]

Suggestion 2025/01/25(Sat)09:03 No. 1102862 ID: 4a0685
File 173782463904.png - (771.94KB , 1550x1550 , Behemoth5.png )

"Take the gun! I’m going in with the axe!" you yelled, your voice cracking with urgency.

Behind you, Gramps swore, his voice rough with both anger and desperation. "Goddamn it, Daniel! Get back here!" His words faltered, choked by the beginnings of tears, but his hands still moved on instinct, grabbing the rifle and cranking open the gas tank valve.

"Stay alive, Daniel!" he shouted as you stormed out of the house, your enormous frame feeling clumsy and alien, like you were trapped in an overinflated balloon suit. Reaching the tool shed, you grabbed the lumber axe - then a gunshot exploded, followed by Gramps’s panicked yell.

"It's coming!" he roared.

"I’m on it!" you called back, gripping the axe as you sprinted toward the hulking creature. It was massive, taller than the farmhouse, its skin a churning mass of segmented plates and sinewy muscle. Its huge round eyes glinted with a sick curiosity as it turned its gaze toward you. Even the bullet that had lodged into its forehead earlier seemed just an inconvenience, the wound knitting itself back together in seconds.

You raised the axe, adrenaline screaming through your veins.

The first strike hit true, sinking deep into the creature’s leg. It let out a guttural screech that pierced the air. Another shot rang out, exploding one of its eyes in a burst of translucent fluid.

You didn’t stop. With every swing, you hacked away like you were splitting logs for winter, each blow hacking through flesh and bone. When it tried to shove you back with a clawed limb, you tanked the hit and retaliated with a furious chop. Gramps’s gunfire kept it disoriented as you drove your strikes deeper and deeper.

Finally, the monster collapsed. Blood - both yours and its - streaked the ground, and the air oozed with the metallic perfume of fresh blood. Your wounds stung, but very, very slowly were closing on their own.

[2/3]

Suggestion 2025/01/25(Sat)09:04 No. 1102863 ID: 4a0685
File 173782468106.png - (717.44KB , 905x675 , behemoth6.png )

God. S-so... so... much meat. You were so, so hungry now too. You could almost feel your stomach try to eat itself.

"Daniel, you motherf - are you listening to me?" Gramps snapped, dragging your focus back to reality.

You blinked, shaking off the intoxicating allure of the monster’s scent. The thought of its meat - cooked, tender, filling - made your mouth water.

"Yes. Sorry, Gramps" you muttered, swallowing hard.

He sighed, running a trembling hand through the thinning hair on his cheek. "We’ll argue later. We’re about to meet every goddamn carrion beast around here."

You eyed the monster's bulk. "We have enough meat for weeks... months, Gramps!" you cheered.

Gramps barked a grim laugh. "And not enough salt, lumber, or time to save it all. Hell, even if we could, this thing's too big. What’s the plan?"

> A) Improvise a perimeter with tractors and big farm equipment around the felled beast and let the carrions have it as you wait it out and protect the rest of the farm meanwhile.

> B) Tell the humans back in town that you've got a huge dead monster in your farmland and that if anyone wants some meat from it, it's completely free. Advertise it by bringing its head into the main plaza with the truck.
> B.1) You go down to town while Gramps stays to protect and tend the meat.
> B.2) You stay to protect and tend the meat while Gramps goes down to the human's town.

> C) Tell the humans back in town that you've got a huge dead monster in your farmland and that if anyone wants some meat from it, they can pay a small fee for it. Advertise it by bringing its head into the main plaza with the truck.
> C.1) You go down to town while Gramps stays to protect and tend the meat.
> C.2) You stay to protect and tend the meat while Gramps goes down to the human's town.

> D) Dump biodiesel and lumber over the body and try to just bonfire it all.

> E) Write-in

[3/3]

No idea who between you two would raise less suspicions with the humans, but
C.2) This way you can eat some extra meat without gramps knowing

>>1102863
C1 I think. You'll be too distracted by the MEAT to guard effectively, and the gas gun should be good enough to fend off carrion beasts.

c1. also since you're good with numbers, if there's any parts that are more rare/valuable maybe bring that instead and have them bid for it while keeping the plain meat a flat rate.

you should keep the best parts like the shell for yourself of course.

E): Eat all the meat yourself.

B2.

While Gramps is in town, help yourself to the best part: It's still beating heart. Raw

Suggestion 2025/01/26(Sun)15:52 No. 1102917 ID: 4a0685
File 173793555821.png - (2.08MB , 1962x1972 , Orator.png )

"We could... sell the meat? For cheap?" you suggest.

Gramps eyed you down, his face tight with skepticism and resignation. "You think humans will actually want monster meat? From us?"

"Everyone needs food," you argue, trying to sound confident. "And with prices what they are... even people who hate half-beasts have to eat, right?"

Gramps grunts, then nods slowly. "Fine. But take the spare gas gun. Those fields aren't good for anything." He helps you chop the head and carefully cut out sections of shell - material like this valuable. As you maneuver the huge head onto the flatbed, his voice becomes stern. "And Daniel? One wrong move in town, they'll blame you for everything. Stick to business. Nothing else."

---

You grip the steering wheel, your massive body barely fitting inside the truck's cab. Your oversized muscles press against the dashboard, making driving awkward. Each movement requires patience, your massive frame keeps threatening to bump into some control accidentally. The old engine roar terribly under the combined weight of both the monster's head and yourself. But that wasn't the worst part. The monster meat's perfume was right there, rich and metallic, and it’s very distracting. Meat. The thought consumes you. Real, juicy meat - none of that slop Gramps throws together to stretch supplies. No. No eating. Not now. You had work to do. C'mon.

The plaza stretches before you, dominated by the Town Hall - a monument to Human authority. Around it, scaffolding climbs up half-finished buildings with the sounds of construction. The town is expanding, changing, becoming something bigger than what Gramps remembers.

"M-meat for sale!" you stammer, climbing out awkwardly. Your ridiculous muscles and genitals draws as many looks as the monster's head. "Fresh m-monster meat! Up in the valley! Really cheap!"

Your voice cracks embarrassingly. Mathematics and farm work never prepared you for public speaking. The makeshift sheet around your waist shifts uncomfortably as you move, you were still not entirely used to having balls this huge, and people staring at them.

"Christ, look at that fucking guy."
"He's huge!"
"What sort of half-beast is he?"

"20 credits per kilo!" you announce, trying to sound confident. A loaf of bread costs 100 - surely this price would convince them?

The crowd keeps their distance. Humans whisper. Their half-beast servants eye you with a mix of fear and fascination. "Too cheap," someone scoffs. "Has to be a trick."

That's when you notice him - at the plaza's edge, dressed in an immaculate suit, holding a book, studying you and the monster's head with intense, analytical interest. Dressed like that, he had to be one of them - an Orator. At his feet he had a half-beast woman crawling, her eager eyes never leaving his face - absolutely subservient. Your throat tightens. You've seen what Orators can do with the gift of being Human. You're more resistant than most half-beasts from being less 'beast', but still...

As other traders hesitate, the Orator steps forward. "Fascinating specimen," he says, voice low and controlled. You sweat. "May I examine it?" he uttered.

"Y-yes, Orator-sir," you stammer. "K-killed it myself. With an axe."

Yeah, and it was smelling mighty tasty right now. Your fist tightens. Stop thinking about eating.

The man - obviously knowledgeable about beasts - circles the head, pulling out a slim notebook. He checks the wound patterns, the bullet shot in its eye...

"Very nice" he states, flatly.

His calm is intimidating. When he looks at you, it's with a predatory intellectual curiosity that makes your wolf-ears flatten.

"I want its fur," he states finally. "Name your price."

Suddenly the crowd surges forward, their earlier hesitation forgotten. Where moments ago they kept their distance, now they press close, eager to see what's caught the Orator's attention.

"Oh - uh... fur!" you manage, mind racing. "Uh..."

"500 credits?" you stammer, immediately regretting the number. Too low? Too high?

The Orator's lips twitch with barely concealed amusement. "Certainly," he says smoothly, reaching into his suit jacket. The half-beast woman at his feet whimpers with excitement. "Where shall we conduct this transaction?"

"If an Orator's buying..."
"Could be worth..."
"Hey, you, the big guy!"

---

"Holy shit, Daniel!" Gramps barks, staring at the stack of credits on the kitchen table. There was more money here than either of you have seen in years. "Even after all those bulk discounts and the salt..."

"One thousand, two hundred and fifty credits," you say, still stunned. Your wolf-ears perk up with pride as you arrange the notes into neat stacks. Even after keeping a quarter of the meat preserved in the salt you purchased, the money was insane. A whole lot of loafs of bread.

Gramps's hands tremble as he counts the notes again, his furry fingers brushing each one as if he was making sure they're real. "This..." his voice cracks, thick with emotion. "This is your money, Daniel. You earned it. Every credit."

"We both did this!" you protest with excitement, flouncing. "You were there with the gas gun! Half-half split!"

"Like hell!" Gramps barks, but his eyes are wet. "I just gave some covering fire! You're the one who charged in there with that axe, and..." He trails off, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Then... let me help with the debt?" you suggest softly. "Take seventy percent, use it to clear what we owe? And I'll keep the rest?"

Gramps removes his beret, clutching it against his chest. For a moment, he just stares at the worn fabric, then lifts his head with a proud smile. He extends his hand - not the casual handshake of daily life, but the formal gesture between equals. Between men.

"Deal." he says gruffly, and when you grab his hand, you feel the slight tremor in his grip.

In that moment, you're not just his grandson anymore.

---

You wake up the next day, very, very hungry.

What do you do?
>A) Go down to the human town with Gramps and try to have a good time, eat nice food, explore, buy some little souvenirs. You have money!
>B) Go talk to the Orators and the rest of the local Human's defense force against Beasts, offer your services.
>C) Investigate the woods, try to look for where that monster came from.
>D) Ask Gramps for tips on how to work out to get stronger, and try doing it.
>E) Write-in

How do you feed yourself?
>A) Try to starve out the size.
>B) Eat very big portions, but reasonable ones for your size.
>C) Finally, gorge yourself with meat. Snack constantly.
>D) Write-in

D, B.

B) Explain that you are an experimental genetically-altered war-machine (as far as you know) and you will work for low-grade slop - as long as it's in bulk.

C) You're on the fast track to the Praetorian Guard. Make the nobility's heads turn.

C, C!

Eat your fill then seek MORE!

C,B