Endemic Evolution - Tumblr Posts
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Endemic Evolution
“As you can see, we’ve quarantined the area, Doctor Simmons.”
The parking lot was completely empty. The garage doors for food deliveries were shut down and the back remained locked with blinds drawn.
Doctor Simmons pursed his dark lips. His carefully shaved scalp shone under the sun. “Then tell me, Barton, why are we in the back of a hotel parking lot, and why is that man by the garage shirtless?”
Barton looked up at the doctor in shock. His paler skin and slanted eyes spoke well of his Asian heritage. “You haven’t been briefed on the nature of the illness?”
“Barton, I was just swept from my home a few weeks before Christmas. I was then promptly shoved on a redeye with an armed escort and a series of highly advanced medical vehicles with equipment to bring he here. And while I do appreciate the warmth Florida has to offer, I am tired and feeling more than a little cranky. I would prefer to get back to my family as soon as possible, so tell me the symptoms.”
Barton flinched. “O-of course, Doctor. This is Joseph Malloy. He’s a newer patient.”
Simmons looked over the subject briefly, then returned his gaze to Barton. “I perceive nothing wrong with him. He appears to be in perfect health.”
Barton cleared his throat uncomfortably. “That’s ... sort of the point, Sir.”
“Excuse me?”
“The course of this illness is different from most. Rather than degrade the body, it enhances it to a rapid degree. Immune response, sight, hearing, heart health, it all improves drastically.”
“And this is a problem because...?”
“Because more than half of my clientele have devolved into musclebound idiots that only care about working out, flexing, and showing off,” Joseph growled. “And I’d rather not join them.”
“Excuse me?”
“Heh ... they’ve devolved into meatheads in every sense of the stereotype, including decreased IQ and a complete obsession with weights, fitness, sports, and their bodies that borders on narcissism.”
“Surely, you’re joking.”
“No, Sir. According to our data, the phenomenon appears to be endemic in nature.”
“Demographic?”
“White Caucasian. Gender: Male.”
“That’s a very large population,” Simmons mused. “Communication methods?”
“Unknown, Sir. But there are certain signs. Restlessness, increased libido, arousal, and a fantastic amount of testosterone.”
“I assume that’s why he’s wearing those compression pants?”
“That and they feel comfortable.” Barton shrugged. “Why not kill two birds with one stone?” Malloy reached down and scratched at his crotch casually. “So, how did you want to start this thing? Were you hoping to feel up my muscles or something? Take measurements?”
“We haven’t even reported as to what this is in the first place. Does it have a name?” the doctor asked.
“We’ve titled it Meatheadosis, after the old urban joke,” Barton explained.
A low moan escaped Malloy’s lips and the pair of physicians turned immediately to face him. They watched as thick powerful veins began to rise up from the skin on his arms. Four abdominals had taken shape in his core and were developing more definition by the second. His eyes rolled in the back of his head as a thin coating of hair grew over his chest.
“Oh, damn. That feels ... this feels....” Malloy groaned as a small lump began to grow slowly and steadily against the crotch of his pants.
“Damn it all,” Barton swore under his breath. “He’s breaking faster than I expected.”
A light stubble grew in over Malloy’s masculine jaw that slowly filled into a proper short beard complete with mustache. “Fuck,” he groaned. “This feels ... this feels ... so fucking good. A light smirk pulled at his lips that soon blossomed into a mellow sort of half-grin. Hands clenched and unclenched. Shoulders heaved and cracked as his torso began to expand. His gaze became glassy as his pectorals began to bounce back and forth, back and forth. “So, uh, we gonna do this or not, Coach?” he asked as his neck gradually expanded with muscle and his voice lowered into a deep bassoon. “I’ve got cardio in like, five minutes.”
Doctor Simmons swallowed heavily. “He just....”
“Yes,” Barton agreed.
“And there are ... how many of them?” “Sixty here alone. We minorities seem to be immune.” Simmons watched as Malloy raised his arms and began to pose. With every flex, the subject’s gaze became more distant. Then came the guffaws. A light flush rose in Simmons’ cheeks as they finished their examination, then sent the affected patient on his way. “Have you identified the bacteria or germ responsible?” Barton shook his head. “That’s part of what’s puzzling us. There’s no sign of them. I’m worried what might happen if the virus or whatever this is mutates into something more.” A light sheen of sweat now reflected the sheen in his brow. Simmons suddenly found himself grateful for his Nubian heritage as he felt the blood flowing through his veins. “We’ll need samples, won’t we?” he asked. “Hm?” Barton’s head jolted up suddenly. “Oh, you mean blood, tissue, that sort of thing.” He smirked. “I’m sure it won’t take long to get those. The others have turned the main lobby into a football field. Simmons’ breath hitched as he gasped. “Ve-RR-y--.” He cleared his throat. “Very well. Let’s see what we can get. “Mmm ... yeah. This is gonna be good.” Barton casually laid his clipboard down over his crotch. “Plenty good.” Simmons started walking. “It will be fun to ... observe the proceedings,” he said, heedless of the tent that was starting to grow in his own crotch. He let out a low chuckle as his lab coat became just a little more snug. “You know, I always wanted to play football....”
Previous Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/635700023353622528/credit-goes-to-musclecorps-is-for-this-image
Next Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181232201117/endemic-evolution-chapter-4-there-you-see-its
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Endemic Evolution Chapter 3
Doctor Lee Chen Barton blew out his mouth like a whale as he surfaced from his breast stroke. They had studied the subjects for the last month with little success in isolating the disease. On top of this, a certain degree of worry gnawed at him. He peered over at the poolside, where Doctor Rante Simmons was just finishing another round of drawing blood samples. A pair of swim trunks hung somewhat loosely against his trimmer frame. The man’s eyes remained rigidly fixed on the vials, but Lee could see how Simmons would pass his gaze over the other men’s rapidly increasing musculature. His hands would squeeze and caress a little longer than necessary, and a bulge began to tent in the man’s crotch, pressing against the fabric. Lee knew what needed to be done. He waded confidently through the pool’s waters, heedless of the splashes that sounded behind as others bellyflopped or otherwise disturbed the waters. The air was heavy with the scent of chlorine and the humidity of the warmer waters. The resistance against his thighs was almost electric as he waded through the shallows and finally mounted the stairs. “Doctor Simmons, I can take over for now. Why don’t you take a dip in the pool? You look like you could use one.” Simmons blinked owlishly and gaped a moment, as if he’d only just noticed his colleague. “Sorry, what?” he finally managed to ask. Lee laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “The pool. You should take a dip. Cool off.” He looked pointedly down at Simmons’ crotch. The man at least had enough decorum to blush. “I’ll finish the samples and get them ready for shipping.” Simmons nodded and cleared his throat. “Right. Call me if you need me. I’ll be just over there.” He strode purposefully toward the pool’s steps and winced as he got up to his thighs in the water. Then he arced under and was lost beneath the surface. Lee sighed and looked up at his next patient, a more recent addition to the ranks. Kyle Lambridge was a former staff member under Malloy’s employ. The young man had been careful to avoid contact with the other men, and Lee had been hopeful the boy could be cleared to leave in due course, perhaps even prove to be a source for an inoculation to cure the disease. Unfortunately, Kyle had proven to the contrary. His reaction when he finally manifested symptoms had been so violent that he practically jettisoned into the Gym Rat stage. As a member of his staff, Malloy had taken full “responsibility” for the boy and now watched over him like a mother bear. He trained him in the weights section. He pushed him to eat more than his peers. And his mental faculties, well.... Lee had managed to catch the two of them chatting in the locker room once.
“It’s not that bad, really, once you get used to it,” Malloy had said. “You just have to sort of accept it, ya know?” “But I--”
“No buts. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” “But I don’t want to....” “Bullshit. Your body wants to, so you want to. It’s natural.” “... Natural....” Lee’s breath had begun to take on a labored tone. “Does it feel bad to you?” “N-no, but--” “What did I say about buts?” “S-sorry, Sir.” “Now listen to me. Your meat’s trying to talk to you. Listen to it.” “I--” “Don’t think. Just do.” A low moan escaped Kyle’s lips. “Just ... do....” “That’s right, bro. Do it.” “Fuck,” Kyle hissed. He grunted and his voice deepened. “Oh, fuck.” “Told ya, lil’bro. Best feeling in the world, except maybe for a good pump.” Kyle chuckled. His voice deepened with every husky guffaw. “Fuck yeah, it is.” “So, you scared about it anymore?” “Fuck no! Huhuhuh....” “That’s a good bro. Finish up. We’ve got a lot of reps to do today.” “Yes, Sir....” He grunted again and chuckled. “Dunno why I was so scared before. I’m such a dumbass. Mmm ... yeah, just a big, burly dumbass....”
Lee had been quick to make his escape. He didn’t want to see what had just transpired, though he could guess only too well the lesson Malloy had taught his new protege. The fact the boy’s body and privates had both experienced a growth spurt less than twenty-four hours later only helped to strengthen those suspicions. He would be remiss not to admit the discussion had caused a certain amount of arousal. That was part of his reasons for spending so much time in the pool. The cooler water helped to shock his more carnal nature and left him clear-headed to focus on their work. Malloy soon approached. A confident easy-going grin was plastered over his face. He quickly wrapped a burly arm around Kyle’s shoulders as Lee finished the last of the bandaging. “Doc,” he acknowledged. “I see you’re doing well today.” He glanced down at Lee’s trunks and the grin widened as knowing eyes gave his expression just a hint of a sneer. “I like the look.” Lee shrugged. “I like to balance modesty with sex appeal,” he said bluntly. “The time we’ve spent here studying you has given me plenty of time to make my body more ... presentable for these.” “Oh, sure. Sure,” Malloy agreed amicably. “What are you up to now, anyway, a hundred pounds?” Lee grit his teeth as the familiar tingle rose in his crotch. “One twenty, if you must know.” “Not bad,” Malloy approved. “Keep at it and you might be as strong as me one day.” Lee nodded as he attended to the next patient. “Perhaps. But then again, I thought a man of your stature didn’t like competition.” “I don’t.” He wrapped an arm around Lee’s shoulders and smirked. “But I always make exceptions for friends. We are friends, aren’t we, Doctor Barton? Or should I call you...?” “Lee.” The word was out of his mouth before he could even think, and a sense of vertigo suddenly assaulted his senses. He grunted as he shouldered the extra weight Malloy forced on him. The man had quite literally become a block head. Every aspect of his jaw and features had become sharpened by angles to mutate into a bizarre parody of a polyhedron. His bristly beard scratched against the side of Lee’s head as he breathed heavily into the doctor’s ear. “Lee, huh? I like that name.” He released his deadly press and choke hold, then turned to Kyle and sneered. “Come on, kid. Time for your protein shake.” He laid a guiding hand on Kyle’s back and steered him away, even as the boy began to bounce his pectorals, just for the sake of the spectacle. Malloy stopped only long enough to turn around and offer his last farewell. “I’m looking forward to seeing more of you, Lee. Much more of you.” He sneered openly. “See you around, stud.” Lee couldn’t tell if it was a compliment, tease, or insult. Then again, it might have been some of all three. He subtly cupped his package on the sly. The effects of his dive in the pool had worn off. “Damn it,” he swore. It had only been a few minutes, after all. He peered over at the pool. Simmons had taken a seat on the edge at the deep end. The water glistened on his dark skin and he rubbed a hand absently over his torso as he watched a trio of Meatheads pose and flex by the hot tub. The desiccated remains of large plastic bags and the red dye on the labels indicated what had once dwelled within those coils. That and the small chunks of ice that had been thrust out of their makeshift ice bath to rest on the floor. He was too far away to tell, but Lee was almost certain his colleague’s crotch was bulging. No more joking. No more mocking. No more mimicry. After the way Malloy had treated him, it was time to face facts. Somehow, some way, they had become infected.
Previous Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181128775917/endemic-evolution-chapter-3-doctor-lee-chen-barton
Next Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181323718642/endemic-evolution-chapter-5-doctor-barton-sighed
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Endemic Evolution Chapter 4
“There, you see? It’s not all that bad, Rante.” The doctor blushed as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. Two black Under Armour wrist bands donned his otherwise bare arms. The familiar Nike swoosh marked the side of his calf and his left thigh for the shorts and compression gear he wore beneath them. “Did you seriously have to give them the keycard to my room, though?” Simmons ran his hands over his scalp again and winced at the sharp scraping bristle his hairs made. The new hair style was a striking difference from his original cut. Malloy grinned. “We had to greet you properly, now that you’re staying as one of our guests.” “By shaving my head and getting rid of my clothes?” “Dude, you were outgrowing them anyway. Did you see how tight that dress shirt was getting? And those lab sleeves wouldn’t have lasted long against those guns of yours.” “I guess they were getting kind of small. And my arms do look kind of nice,” Simmons admitted. “Bro, you haven’t even reached your peak yet.” “I ... haven’t?” “Nah, bro. Here. Try this on. It’ll cover up your head till your hair grows back.” “Oh, uh, thanks.” “No prob.” Malloy sneered as Rante put on the snapback hat. He strode forward and twisted it around, so the brim sloped down Rante’s neck. “Much better.” “I don’t know....” Trust me, Rante. You look like a stud.” He wrapped his arm around the doctor’s shoulders and led him back to the mirror. “Go on. Take a minute. Just look at yourself.” Rante averted his gaze. “I said look at yourself, Rante.” Malloy glared at the man and moved with a swiftness that belied the mass he’d accumulated as an Alpha. His hand was on Simmons’ head almost instantly. His other hand braced his chin as he forced the man to look into the mirror. Rante’s pupils shrunk briefly, then dilated as his breathing came in shorter bursts. “See? Doesn’t this highlight your body so much better than those stupid lab coats? All they do is hide your muscles.” Malloy flexed a bicep as his sneer returned. “And why would you want to hide this, hmm?” The doctor trembled as his breathing became more labored and forceful. “C’mon, bro. I’ve seen you at the pool. I know how much you’ve been watching us, how you flex when you think nobody’s watching.” Rante flinched and Malloy smirked. “Wanna know a secret?” Malloy asked, almost whispered as he struck a double bicep pose and forced a pump into his muscles. A low groan escaped Rante’s lips. Malloy bore his teeth in a vicious grin. “It feels even better when there’s an audience.” A strangled gurgle, a heaving chest, clenching fists and teeth. But, of course, that was his mistake. Clenching meant flexing. Rante groaned. He didn’t try to hold it back this time. It rolled in a grating sort of rumble that faded off into a sigh as his shoulders slumped and his arms relaxed. He stood there silently for a time, just breathing deeply as he stared into his reflection with a vacant expression and it stared back. Then came the twitch. It was the barest hint of motion. His right pectoral trembled. It may have been a trick of the eye. The motion carried into the left, that same trembling. The breathing quickened. Then, slowly, like an engine turning over, his pectorals began to bounce. Right, then left. Right, then left. Back and forth. His skin glowed in the room’s light. “That’s it, Rante. Just like a machine starting up. You know what comes next.” Rante leaned forward and curled both arms in front of his torso. His trapezius muscles flared. His biceps tingled and rose. The barest hints of veins began to show under the skin as muscle strained. The four-pack abdominals sharpened to reveal two more slabs that were slowly being carved from his lower torso. He held that pose for ten seconds before releasing and straightening with a blissful grin on his face that gradually faded into just a hint of a smirk. “Bro....” Malloy ran a hand over Rante’s torso. The sixth pair of muscles hadn’t completely retracted. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you, bro?” “Oh, fuck yes,” Rante moaned. “Just imagine how much better that’ll feel in a whole gym of muscled studs just waiting to watch you grow....” Rante’s shoulders slumped. His jaw went slack. His chest thrust out as he gazed sightlessly at his reflection. His mind was elsewhere. “See you at the gym, little bro,” Malloy said as he made his way to the hotel room’s door. The Alpha chuckled to himself as it shut behind him. He let loose a vicious triumphal grin. “Just try to stay away now.”
Previous Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181232201117/endemic-evolution-chapter-4-there-you-see-its
Next Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/617378326229762048/on-further-review-of-the-original-photo-i-felt-it
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Endemic Evolution Chapter 5
Doctor Barton sighed as the man in the blue hazmat suit tapped his knee yet again. He didn’t even think about it when the muscle in his knee reacted and lifted his leg of its own accord. “Your reflexes have improved vastly from your last physical,” the physician told him through the respirator. It was almost comical how bulky the Grade A suit was. The helmet couldn’t help but remind Lee of Lord Helmet from Spaceballs The Movie. It was all necessary, though, and he knew it only too well. Lee looked down at his briefs and sighed forlornly. “I know.” A gloved hand rested on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Nobody’s blaming you for what happened. We just didn’t have enough data.” “Yeah, but look what’s happened to Simmons. He’s a completely different person now. He’s not even trying to resist this anymore.” “Which is why we have you here in quarantine. You won’t have to worry about the others trying to influence you or force you into something else while we have all the key cards.” The doctor grimaced. “What happened to Doctor Simmons is ... unfortunate, but we’ve learned from that mistake.” “Has ... anyone told his family?” “We’ve told them what we’re allowed.” “So pretty much nothing, then,” Lee muttered angrily. “It’s protocol. Until we can understand exactly what this is, we have to keep it under wraps. Do you have any idea the number of men who would sell their souls to be exposed to this kind of shortcut to a perfect body?” “Yeah, ... I know....” He shook his head. “So, any idea why the disease took so long to manifest in Simmons and me?” “Nothing concrete just yet. It’s possible the initial pathogen was specifically designed for a particular racial background, as you theorized. However, if that is the case, then this virus has proven highly adaptive and mutative.” “Have you checked his brain yet?” “If you mean Doctor Simmons, then yes, we have. His pituitary gland has mutated. The anterior gland has grown and is somehow ... well, for lack of a better word, it’s infecting the rest of the brain.” “Explain,” Barton ordered as he narrowed his gaze. “We’d have to perform surgery to be absolutely certain, but it’s evident that the gland is swollen, not unlike a tumor. However, the remainder of the brain is actually adapting to compensate for this growth, rather than allowing the extra mass to push it against the skull like a tumor. And there are no signs of cancer cells that we’ve been able to detect with the usual means. The increased size would explain a great deal about how closely knit this group of men has become and how easily those who have progressed farther are able to influence those who are not so far along. “Vasopressin and Oxytocin levels rising are among some of the earlier manifestations of the mutation that we’ve been able to document. As you know, increase those two hormones enough, and it’s a simple matter for a subject to bond to one of the other patients. From what we’ve seen, activity in the lateral orbitofrontal cortex has also been slowing dramatically within subjects.” “That’s an easy one to explain.” Lee rolled his eyes. “They’re constantly indulging their libidos. They can’t or won’t stop. I can’t even begin to tell you the number of times I’ve heard someone muttering about how they need to ‘bust a nut’ or how they’d like some ‘pussy to plow.’“ He cut off his narration with a snarl of disgust as the bulge in his briefs responded to the memories. “As you can see, I am not immune to those urges either, though I have maintained strict control.” “It shows.” The doctor peered at Lee’s chiseled torso and the sheer vascularity the man had developed in his arms and thighs. “Curious that the veins are more prominent in locations where main arteries are located.” “Most likely to facilitate spread of the hormones to dull the mind,” Lee theorized. He sighed and ran a hand through his neatly combed hair. “Not to mention the rapid rate of growth in certain parts of anatomy. My body is probably priming itself for the next stage. I’ve been able to slow the process down somewhat, but not stop it.” The doctor peered at the various bottles that lay on a tray next to the bed. “And you’ve been taking your pills?” “Regularly,” Lee said vehemently. “Either these antivirals and biotics aren’t strong enough or this isn’t the result of a biological entity.” “Now you’re just being overdramatic.” “Am I? How many tests have we performed now with no results? There’s no sign of anything that could be deemed responsible. And all the while, we’re becoming more and more like walking factories of testosterone!” He slammed his fists against his mattress and took a few labored breaths. Then the breathing became more steady. “I ... apologize. The lack of progress is frustrating, to say the least, and my ... advancement in this affliction has left me in a more aggressive state of mind.” The doctor nodded behind his massive visor and turned to gather his materials, including the vials of blood he’d just harvested. “I understand. You should try to get some rest.” Lee smiled sadly after the doctor. When he heard his door close, he let out an explosive sigh. “I will, when my body lets me.” He finally released the yawn he’d been holding in and strode over to the coffee machine. He replaced the filter, opened the pouch with the grounds in it, poured, and activated the maker. Then he dragged himself back to the bed as the scent of the blend began to fill the room. He sighed and turned on the television, then scratched at his crotch, oblivious to the veins’ subtle advance with each abrasion. “I wonder how the Patriots did last night....”
On further review of the original photo, I felt it was too risky to show the whole thing. The image was still chaste in nature, but it did show a clear outline of what lay beneath the fabric, even to the extent of showing some veins against it. I wasn’t comfortable with that, so I cropped the image.
Credit goes to @musclecorps for the original image. Thanks for posting images that inspire me to write, man! :D
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Previous Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181323718642/endemic-evolution-chapter-5-doctor-barton-sighed
Next Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/617475185126277120/credit-to-asianhunks-x-for-these-images
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Endemic Evolution Chapter 6
“That’s right, Rante. No shame in taking a selfie. You earned that body. Flaunt it, little bro.”
The camera shutter went off. A grin spread over Rante’s face. “Damn,” he swore.
“See? Told ya. Feels pretty good, don’t it?” Kyle’s deep bassoon carried from the bedroom.
“I ... I didn’t even notice,” Rante said as he stared at his phone’s screen.
“Kinda the point, bro,” Kyle pointed out. His blond hair glinted in the light from the room’s fixtures as a football game on demand played in the background. “The more ya get swole, the more your meat gets swole. Malloy said not to question it, so I don’t.”
“Uh ... question what?” Rante asked.
Kyle chuckled. “Exactly, bro. Feels good being so thick and heavy, don’t it?”
“Yeah ... good....”
Kyle sneered as he walked in behind the doctor. “We’ll have you in proper gear in no time, little bro.” Rante’s breathing caught, and his eyes rolled briefly as he felt the presence of the towering muscle behemoth that Kyle had become. The man stood a full head taller, and his broad shoulders were nearly as wide as the doorway. Thick, beefy white arms dwarfed Rante’s toned and shredded ones. The doctor’s core flexed almost instinctively.
“Easy, bro. You don’t gotta show off around me. I know how it feels tryin’ to grow.” He chuckled. “You’ll be just fine. You just need a little more time at the gym is all.”
“A little more time....” Rante echoed in a distant voice.
“That’s right, little bro. Gym’s the place to be. Malloy wants us to be there.”
Rante let out a low moan. “At ... the gym?” he asked dazedly.
“S’right, little bro. At the gym. The gym is where we belong.” Kyle’s hand clapped firmly on Rante’s shoulder.
“Where we belong....” The cell phone clattered to the floor. Rante’s pecs bounced back and forth, back and forth. His arms twitched and tensed. His pants finished falling to the floor as he turned and stepped out of them in nothing more than his boxers. “I must go the gym. The gym is where I belong.”
Kyle grinned. “C’mon, little bro. I’ll show you the way.”
Rante followed shamelessly behind. He strode past the doctors in their hazmat suits. He strode past muscle men and meatheads and jocks and whatever other names he had once called them. That didn’t matter anymore. They were all going to the same place, after all. He paused briefly to stare at a much smaller Asian man. Rante furrowed his brow at the sight. He looked ... familiar. More big men in suits stood around him, and they looked to be reaching for tasers. Rante shrugged. He didn’t care. He locked eyes with the man and spoke. “You comin’?”
The man shuddered, but shook his head wordlessly, albeit weakly.
Rante shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he grunted. Then he lumbered after Kyle like a wayward puppy. Gradually, the thump of his feet on the carpet was joined by another pair, and then another, and another. Muscle touched muscle. Meat pressed against meat. Men marched together as the familiar warmth flooded their bodies and a mind-numbing pleasure surged through their brains.
Two behemoths pulled open the doors to the facility. The air was filled with the grunts of hard labor and exertion. When they passed through, Kyle turned and grinned. “Welcome home, bros.”
Rante didn’t think, couldn’t think as the words passed from his lips, and he knew they were true. “The gym is my home. I belong in the gym.”
He wasn’t sure where it came from. He wasn’t sure who started it. All he knew was that his chest was heaving, and the room was suddenly echoing over and over with the sound of dull vacuous laughter. They crashed together like ice in a blender. Different tones, different pitches, different voices. But slowly, they homogenized. High voices dropped. Low voices extended the length of their guffaws. Once weak and timid laughter pressed effortlessly out the diaphragm as the men engaged their cores
...
And let the meat do the work.
The piles of muscle by the door grinned knowingly at Kyle. Kyle made no effort of hiding his response. “Come on, bros. Let’s work out.”
Credit to @asianhunks-x for these images.
Previous Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/617378326229762048/on-further-review-of-the-original-photo-i-felt-it
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Endemic Evolution Chapter 7
Lee breathed deeply as he stood in the pool and let the water lap over his body. The daily meditation allowed him a certain amount of peace as he dealt with the rapid rise in his libido and overall physical enhancement. He’d tried multiple things to slow the disease or whatever was at fault for the metamorphosis taking place. Burgers, fries, fried chicken, candy, gourmet desserts. No matter how greasy or fattening the food he ate, his body never once put on so much as an ounce of fat. No. What grew was far worse for his condition.
He braced himself as he brought his fists and thumbs together. The muscles in his arms and pectorals tensed. He forced the shudder back, using the cool waters in the pool to mitigate the effects of the increased blood flow he’d been facing. Unfortunately, the water was losing its edge of late. If anything, it felt more like his body was adapting to the cold, maybe even enjoying it. He hardly flinched when he entered the pool anymore.
Malloy had been more than accommodating when the doctors requested Lee be given permission to have exclusive use of the facility at certain times during the day. He was given three half hour intervals in which to use the facilities, meditate, and otherwise endeavor to calm his mind.
“Anything for my little bro,” Malloy had said.
Lee shook his head. “I’m not your little bro,” he muttered.
“Doctor Barton?”
Lee looked to the attending staff member and smiled tiredly. “Sorry. I was just thinking about Malloy.
“Sir, it’s best not to do that.”
“I know.” Lee shook his head. “Sometimes, the mind does things you don’t want it to, and you have to rebuke it like you would a child that pushed the rules too far.” He sighed. “How much longer do we have before we need to leave?”
“About another five minutes or so, Sir.”
Lee nodded. “Any more progress?”
“None that I’ve been told, Sir.”
“Frank, please stop calling me Sir. I’m not the head scientist here.”
“I’m sorry, Sir, but until you’re completely gone, you’re still technically one of our senior staff. Protocol dictates I address you as such.”
“Screw the protocols.” The waters churned as his legs thrust through them like oars breaking a current. He seized a proffered towel as he emerged. As usual, the fabric had been exposed to a variety of treatments to ensure it would kill or cleanse any foreign substances and bacteria. The speedo was easy to pat down, and he quickly transitioned to his arms, legs, and torso, rather than allow that particular piece of anatomy any potential edge in his struggle.
“I can’t, Sir.”
“Why?” Lee snarled. Heat surged through him almost instantly, and he swore.
“Because forming any sort of attachment to the patients may be an invitation to join them. I’m sorry, Sir. Really, I am. But this is an order from the top. Until we identify the culprit for this transformation, we have to keep as remote as we can.”
Lee was still angry, but he knew better than to allow that anger an outlet. He closed his eyes, concentrated, breathed, and pushed it into yet another box to store with the rest of the emotions he’d packed away. He couldn’t afford to let them out. Not if they exacerbated things. And from what he’d seen in the other patients, that’s exactly what would happen if he didn’t keep control. “Any results from our other tests? Nanoscopes, spectrometers, anything?”
His wet feet smacked heavily on the tile of the indoor portion of the pool as they strode to the exit and the waiting escort. A set of sound cancelling earplugs and muffs awaited him, along with a blindfold and a draping bathrobe to obscure his body and its changes. If the patients couldn’t see his changes, they often left him alone, rather than egging him on. The blindfold and sound tech were extra precautions.
“Nothing yet, Sir. I’m sorry. We’re still not any closer to finding out what causes this.”
He shrugged the robe into place and bound it. “Any effects on lab animals?”
Frank shook his head. The hazmat suit crinkled as his torso twisted ever so slightly.
“So that means either this disease effects only humans or it’s not a disease, as I postulated in the first place.” He frowned. “Have you considered a low-level EMP? If this is caused by something mechanical rather than biological, it might neutralize the effects on me and provide a means for us to treat the initial stages, if not the latter ones.
“I’ll take your suggestion into account, but it’s going to take some doing to convince any of the higher ups to use that kind of tech when we haven’t found any evidence to back it up.”
“We haven’t found a biological one either,” Lee pointed out. “And we’ve run almost every test we can think of. Occam’s Razor seems the best bet. If it’s not biological in nature, then there has to be a mechanical aspect somewhere. We just need to find it.”
“And if it’s not there?”
“Then the worst case scenario is I get exposed to harmless radiation. I’m healthier than I’ve ever been right now, despite my efforts not to be. I’m pretty sure I can take it.”
The blindfold was placed, the sound gear applied, and Lee was led back to his room, as he had been for the last several weeks. When he had been safely conducted, he removed each to face his team once again. “Do your best to get approval, Frank. Time is of the essence.”
Frank nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.” He frowned behind his face shield. “You should get some rest. Your eyes are getting baggy again, and the irritation is back.”
Lee sighed. “I guess you’re not the only one who has to see what he can do.”
“Insomnia again?”
“The price of resistance.” Lee chuckled. “I’ll be okay, Frank. Don’t worry. I’ll sleep tonight. You just focus on getting that approval. And report back to me in the morning.”
“If you’re sure....”
“I am, Frank. Thank you. All of you.” He handed the gear back to the men. “I’ll see you all in the morning for the next round of examinations and results.”
Then he closed his door and strode to his bathroom. True to Frank’s word, his eyes were puffy, and red veins of irritation scrabbled in intricate cracks along his sclerae. He sighed in resignation and turned to the shower. It was more of a short rinse with shampoo to lather up his hair and clear out the chlorine, followed by a quick shave. He knew what he needed to do. He just really hated to do it.
He turned off the water and toweled down, then strode into the bedroom to change into a new pair of underwear. Then he flopped onto his bed and pulled out his laptop. The light of his lamps filled the room with a cheerful warmth that raised goosebumps on his skin after the cold shower he’d taken.
“All right, I’ll let you have this round,” he said to his invisible opponent as he settled onto his bed and leaned against the pillows and cushioned headboard. The familiar tone of the computer booting up met him, and his fingers flew across the keyboard as he cued up the website on the hotel’s wi-fi.
His heart thundered as he typed in the address and was met with the familiar sight of a broad football field banner with two goal posts on either side.
Fantasy Football: Build Your League. Place Your Bets.
His fingers clacked rhythmically over the keyboard as he reviewed the stats of his roster and assigned the various players their roles for the duration of the season.
His typing gradually slowed. His eyelids finally began to droop. His head lolled. Occasionally, the phantom of music soundtracks would drift through his ears, as though some video were playing. Yet he found none, neither ad nor recap video.
As the darkness encroached beyond his ability to push it back, Rante’s deep bass lowed through his consciousness.
You comin’?
Suit yourself...
You comin’?
Suit yourself...
You comin’?
Suit yourself...
The familiar call of the quarterback from the last game he’d watched on demand rang through his skull.
Hike-hike!
Suit yourself...
You comin’?
Just before he lost all consciousness, a new voice emerged with a final edict.
Suit up, bro....
A low groan escaped Lee’s lips as he drifted, finally, into blissful slumber with the ghost of a fully uniformed football player hovering under his eyelids, the final shutter click of the night. “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....”
He never noticed the stubble growing back.
Credit goes to @musclecorps is for this image before he shut down his tumblr and I lost a massive chunk of images I had stored in my likes for use in future stories and series. XD That’s how the cookie crumbles sometimes. Anyway, for some reason, someone decided to flag this chapter of Endemic Evolution. And tumblr decided, in all its wisdom, not to notify me of the fact. I can’t appeal it now, because that time limit has long since expired. I only recently discovered this problem today, because I was looking through my previous posts to see what might need clearing out, etc. Oh, and here’s the real kicker. It wasn’t even shown in my flagged posts section either. I wonder why that is? Can anyone explain that fact to me? Or is this one of those signs of tumblr blatantly trying to silence anyone it deems doesn’t adhere to its vision, despite following their guidelines perfectly? I’ll let you readers decide that for yourselves. Anyway, because I know how one-sided an appeal will be from previous experience, and the fact that no one will actually let me talk with and discuss the ruling with anyone from their content management department (other than being notified that the content management department has decided to let the ruling stand and give me cookie cutter links to their guidelines telling me to look there for more information when I’ve already looked there and want to dispute the claims with an actual PERSON using the language found in said guidelines. Does it hurt to ask for a little accountability and justification from that team, @staff?), I’m cutting out the middleman by deleting the original and reposting it. This time, I’ll even include a disclaimer, so readers can understand the fact that this chapter is intended for an older audience.
...
*Ahem.*
DISCLAIMER: THIS CHAPTER IS FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY!
This chapter is written in the form of a medical journal entry recording. As such, there will be references to human anatomy, symptoms of the fictional illness, etc. There will also be some language involved, and there will be signs of the doctor who is speaking in this recording manifesting some of those very same symptoms that he is listing. There is no sexually explicit content in this story. However, there is frank language used in describing the patients and their symptoms, and (as I said earlier) there is reference to human anatomy and patient behavior. While the word “masturbation” is used in the chapter, there is no description of that act being performed. It is merely a reference of symptom manifestation as the fictional disease progresses, and is listed as such. You have been warned. Please, do not flag this post. I’ll even make sure to close off the content below with a read more link, just to be on the safe side, so only the people who are really sure they want to proceed can read it.
Thank you,
~ Omni
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Previous Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181040364417/endemic-evolution-as-you-can-see-weve
Next Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181128775917/endemic-evolution-chapter-3-doctor-lee-chen-barton
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Endemic Evolution Chapter 2
“This is Doctor Simmons reporting in. I have opted for a video recording for this particular report for the sake of observation and for other reasons which I shall elaborate upon shortly. First, a recap and report of more personal note.
“It has been approximately two weeks since my first contact with these carriers of the disease we have chosen to classify as Meatheadosis. It was not my idea, but I wasn’t brought on scene at the beginning of the outbreak, so I suppose I don’t get to complain. Our generous host Mister Malloy fell prey to his infection shortly after our first meeting began. The effects of this phenomenon are positively astounding. If a means could be developed to isolate and control the virus’ effects, or at least tone them back, this disease could work miracles across the globe.
“Due to the lateness of the Holiday Season, I have had no choice but to cancel my plans for Christmas with the family. This has received mixed results, but it has to be done, for research and for the sake of our country’s future.
“Accommodations here are wonderful. Malloy has been kind enough to offer me one of his best suites. I feel more relaxed and loose than I have in over a decade. The others have also enjoyed their own rooms.
“Now on to the main report. Initial observation indicates that this virus attacks and rewrites the synapses in the brain, breaking down old connections and building new ones associated specifically with muscle memory and other such more physical things. Due to this forced rewiring of the brain, the subject becomes less and less focused on previous passions and ideals. It is not accurate to say so much that they have become dumber as it is to say that their intelligence has been reallocated into an obsession with physical perfection that borders on zealous.
“Indeed, the loss of intelligence that has been noted previously appears to only occur as the subject focuses more on enjoying and enhancing his body. Symptoms include absented-mindedness, repetitive daydreaming, subconscious flexing, personal worship, flexing, muscle worship, posing, spontaneous laughter, flexing, a distinct lack of complex sentence structure, degradation of vocabulary, and flexing.
“Some have taken to repeating various mantras and prose to give them motivation. It’s very catchy. For example: One, two, three, four. Growing muscle more and more. Five, six, seven, eight. Work out, get swole, bulk up, inflate.
“The sheer unity they demonstrate is positively mind-boggling. It’s almost as though they were functioning in a pack or a hive mind of some sort, but of course that’s not possible. Still, it does stick, doesn’t it…?
“Ahem. Anyway, It’s my theory that those effected have the electrical impulses of the brain muted when it comes to activities that … mmmph, don’t contribute to this new mode of lifestyle. Then, when the individual utilizes weights or performs some other form of physical exertion, like say a flex…
“Oh, that felt good. Where, uh … where was I?
“Oh, yes. The impulses. I believe the electrical impulses are released into the new synapses to trigger intense pleasure and other sensations that reinforce their newfound aggressive and, dare I say, brutish behavior. For example, lowered inhibitions contribute to behaviors such as openly scratching or ‘cupping’ one’s manhood, heralding immature behavior such as belching with cheers and approbation, and giving in to one’s baser sexual instincts by masturbating to ‘take the edge off.’
“It appears that the more the subjects indulge in these actions, the faster they degrade. I have designated the levels or stages of this disease’s progress into distinct categories from the first symptoms to the farthest gone. The earliest ones who are just starting out are known as Pledges. Part of this has to do with the meathead frat mentality that is rapidly becoming more prevalent in the subjects. It seems that those who are farther along in this … metamorphosis have the ability to home in on those who have contracted the disease somehow, granting them the ability to tease, heckle, and otherwise (for lack of a better word) haze an individual before they begin to progress, or perhaps regress is the better term.
“Next comes the Jock stage. Men in this stage still retain most of their former hobbies, habits, and behavioral patterns, but take a keener interest in sports and fitness than they have previously. Muscles will harden and expand, fat will burn away, and inhibitions will begin to die as other men farther along tease and encourage. Eventually, the Jock will grow accustomed to these modes of address and adopt them for himself.
“Excuse me for a moment. I need to take a selfie for my wife. … There we go. I think she’ll enjoy that. I know I did. “Now then, back on topic. In due course, the moniker of Gym Rat is earned. At this stage, the subject cannot stop thinking about their personal fitness. The gym essentially becomes their home. Fortunately, this hotel comes with a fully stocked top-of-the-line gym complete with equipment for our patients to use. The subject will become obsessed with diet and getting as much lean protein as possible to bulk up. It is generally around this stage that the manhood of the subjects begins to swell and increase in size. The extra testosterone that is the inevitable result of this stage triggers their development into the next one.
“The Meathead is essentially the finished product. At this point, the mind degrades to only want to discuss ‘manly’ things. Weights, anatomy, sex life, etc. They are quite literally muscleheads in every sense of the word. Cursing, swearing, and various other modes of language are often another indicator of their loss in intelligence. These can occur as early as the Jock stage, though the Pledges usually either do or don’t due to their previous life choices, not as a result of their metamorphosis.
“Now we come to what I believe would be considered a mutation of sorts in the usual strain. I speak of what we have chosen to dub the Alpha. These Meatheads are in a class all their own; the largest, burliest, most aggressive and dominant of their flock. This makes them the de facto leaders of their fellow Meatheads, and they make sure the others know it regularly.
“One of their favorite pastimes is comparing size and encouraging others in their growth in their own ways. Malloy quickly ascended to this kingly position. Considering he was the owner and manager of his hotel, it only makes sense that he would be. However, it seems he took a liking to me and Barton before he achieved this most coveted of positions.
“Communication with them requires me to channel my inner highschooler. Fortunately, I’m well endowed, or as they would say it, hung as fuck. Mmm … it does look nice pressing out against the crotch in my sweatpants, doesn’t it? I’ve taken to patting it and smirking at the ‘higher-ups’ to make them think I’m conforming. This usually allows me the ability to interact with others more freely as we exercise. I will admit that I can’t help but compare my size every other day or so, though. Even I am not immune to the vain desire to reach that ideal male aesthetic of large and satisfying anatomy.
“Mmph … maybe just one more for the missus.
“The gym is never closed, and Barton has reported sightings of, if you’ll believe it, sleepwalking subjects that perform exercises in their sleep. This, in turn, wears them down mentally with tiredness and makes it easier for them to fall under the influence of an Alpha or other higher ranked subject in a form of what seems almost to be hypnosis.
“By the next day, they’ve usually jumped a rank.
“As for me, I am striving to match the ideal rank of Jock. It’s not too far along, and my healthier frame is an almost perfect fit, while most of the research team is too out of shape. I’ve even been practicing my dumb laugh. It’s surprisingly simple. Then again, simplicity is kind of the point with minds like this.”
“Yo, Simmons, Malloy wants to see you!”
“… And that would be my cue to go. Wish me luck. I go to meet the council of Alphas. I wonder. Should I start with the double flex or perhaps the crab pose…? Mmph … so much to choose from. I can hardly think which would be best.”
“Come on, coach, let’s go!”
“Hmm … hardly think. Must be … nice….”
“Coach?”
“Huh? Oh, sorry, Barton. My mind was … elsewhere. Come on. Let’s go. Don't want to keep our patients waiting.”
“Ready for the flex-off?”
“Huhuh. I’m always ready for a flex-off….”