Why exactly he thought that not cumming for a whole month was in any way something

remotely approaching a good idea was, quite frankly, anyone’s guess; Ark had been accustomed
to controlling himself for so long that he figured that going for a bit longer without any sort of
relief would not only be routine, it’d be downright ​easy​. In fact, he had convinced himself so
thoroughly that he consistently ignored the warnings given to him by friends, family and
coworkers, even going so far as to take vacation days precisely so he could stay at home for a
whole month without having to worry about getting in anyone’s way. Truth be told, there was
some merit to his beliefs; the lynx was fully capable of adjusting how much cum he was
producing at any given time, and though he did occasionally feel the need to go clog up a toilet
with his spunk, it was never anything more than the usual. In fact, he’d had bigger releases
during work, when he sprayed the waiting crowd so much that even the floor beneath them
ended up covered in his seed; surely, it wouldn’t be that much of a problem for him to just ​not​ do
that for thirty-odd days, especially when he could control his productivity on the fly.

This, however, posed a different issue altogether: wouldn’t it be cheating if he kept himself
under control? The point of the challenge was to endure the pain, suffering and assorted feelings
of tightness that came packaged with not ejaculating for the duration of a month, and if he just
didn’t produce​ altogether, then it would hardly be a challenge at all; his occasional moments of
madness in the bathroom came not from a feeling of being stuffed, but more from a
psychological need for release, far up above the pyramid in terms of what his body actually
required in order to function. If he wanted to, he could just not make any more cum at all,
keeping his nuts at the size they were at day one and then not have to worry about them getting
any more stuffed, but this would fly in the face of what the whole thing was supposed to be
about; therefore, it only made sense that he adjust his productivity so that it matched what other,
less-endowed people felt in their day-to-day lives… but would that be enough? Wouldn’t it be
fairer for him to spike it to his ​proper​ levels instead? Other males had their own seed made at a
rate that matched their size and physique, so why should ​he​ limit himself? He was already
massive, so even ​if​ he kept his cum factories going at the same speed as everyone else on the
planet, he’d be lucky if he saw a couple of inches of growth at the end, much less anything
resembling overwhelming, overbearing pressure; no, he needed to ​truly​ cut loose, and that meant
lowering the floodgates and allowing his body to work as it normally did when he wasn’t
deliberately holding it back. A bad idea, but an amazing one nonetheless.

But then, wouldn’t it be ​truly​ great if he gave it a little bit something extra? After all, even if
he did allow his nuts to produce at their “normal” rate, this would barely be enough to drive him
mad without having to wait for a couple of weeks, and what was the point in engaging in a
challenge as ridiculous as that one if it didn’t involve begging for someone to come empty him
out? No, he needed something with a bit more oomph, and that meant not only allowing his balls
to swell to begin with, but to do so at an accelerated rate; everyone he knew told him this was
something beyond a bad idea, and that he was inviting calamity into his home, but he didn’t care.
The lynx was utterly convinced that he could keep himself under control, and anyone saying
otherwise was just jealous of his ability to be as big as he wanted to be without having to resort
to genemodding or other, more illicit methods. Thus, as soon as the first of November rolled
around, he woke up, got out of bed, emptied out for the final time that month, and then allowed
his body to start making cum once again.

The process would take a while before it got anywhere close to the tipping point, so without
anything else to do, Ark walked around the house trying to make himself busy, be it with chores,
watching TV, or occasionally dipping by his personal computer to pretend like he was doing
anything but waiting for his nuts to start aching. This, above all things, was the whole point of
undergoing that month-long endurance test: it wasn’t about determination or proving anything, it
was about reaching a point where he could think to do nothing else but rub his legs against a pair
of nuts so massive that they could completely bury him and still have room for a couple more
Arks. Just the thought alone was enough to get him hard, hard enough that, when sitting at his
desk, that cock of his bumped against the underside of it, begging for attention; it wasn’t normal
for him not to give it even the slightest bit of love when it was demanding it so strongly, but
those were the rules and he couldn’t break them. As much as it hurt him to feel that throbbing
shaft pulsating with each heartbeat and yelling at him to stop acting like an idiot and get down to
business pumping it, he ​had​ to restrain himself, lest he be forced to start over with even more
artificial limitations placed on him.

The first signs of growth appeared a couple of hours before he went to bed, after an extended
period where the tightness and pressure that Ark felt building up inside of him had peaked, and
then somehow kept rising anyway, a biological impossibility about as big as his own ability to
directly control his productivity. He could’ve stopped it there, could’ve slowed it down at least,
but where was the fun in that? Better to allow his nuts to swell up to the very edge, just so he
could keep going and have them carry on with their outward expansion; they were significantly
heavier by the time he crawled onto his mattress, having to exercise care not to bump them
against anything when he adjusted them between his legs. He couldn’t trust himself not to do
something stupid while sleeping, plus he had no intention of scraping spunk off the walls every
single day, so he had prepared for such an eventuality by purchasing an expandable cockring. It
cost him a pretty penny, so pretty that it hurt to spend it, but it was meant to be able to hold up to
five times its original circumference without any loss in integrity ​and​ with a constant grip,
making it perfect for a grower like him. With a loud click, Ark snapped it into place right next to
his base, gave his nuts a nice, soft pat, then went to work attempting to fall asleep.

It was… hard. Harder than he was, at that, given that the pressure didn’t really go away or
become any more bearable just because the main cause behind it was now resting comfortably on
a pair of freshly-washed sheets; if anything, not having anything to focus on allowed his mind to
direct all of its resources at the one thing he ​could​ pay attention to, forcing the lynx to become
all-too aware of just how absurdly swollen he truly was, and how he’d gotten there within the
first day alone. It brought to mind a lot of questions that he had thought unnecessary to ask, and
for the first time in quite a while, he felt doubt; it was an odd thing to experience for someone
like him, especially after he believed he had made up his mind, but those were unmistakably
questions swimming around inside of his head, mostly demanding to know what in blazes
convinced him that doing this would be a good idea. He did his best to discard them, believing
his decision to hold fast by the challenge was a well-informed one, regardless of how much he
knew that to be factually untrue; the last thing he needed right now was to doubt himself, not
right after placing a cockring on that wouldn’t come off until morning. Sighing, he promised
himself that he would reevaluate his position after a good night’s sleep; if he woke up, and truly
believed that stopping things at the dawn of the second day was the best way to go, then that’s
what he would do. He’d take the ring off, go to the bathroom, empty out, and forget about
everything.

Of course, this was never going to happen. But it was nice to pretend.

Somewhere down the line, Ark lost consciousness, a much more appropriate way of
describing it than merely falling asleep. His night was filled with the sort of sights and sounds
that would make sense given his current predicament, and even in the depths of REM he was still
vaguely aware of the loud and loudening churning coming from just below where his head
rested, as well as the mounting groaning coming from the mattress and bed as their limits were
pushed thanks to the dense pair of cum factories pressing down on them. He woke up several
hours past the usual time, feeling both incredibly refreshed and restored, yet somehow
unbelievably​ exhausted; he wasn’t tired so much as he didn’t have the willpower required to
move a single muscle, and for a few moments was left in a blind panic at the prospect that
something serious might’ve happened to him… at least until he looked slightly downward and
witnessed what was waiting for him.

To say that his balls had grown was somewhat of an understatement, given that he didn’t
even have to move his head to be able to see them; all that was needed was for him to pivot his
pupils a few degrees down for them to capture the full majesty of those titanic cumtanks, each
one slightly larger on their own than they had been put together the night before, dutifully
accompanied by a thick, meaty shaft that was dangerously close to the ceiling and leaked a rather
ridiculous amount of pre, spooling heavily and surprisingly comfortably against his chest. It
wasn’t the first time that he’d been so large, but it ​was​ novel for him to be like that without it
being deliberate… and without being able to shrink back. The lynx chalked it up to it being early
morning and his brain not being fully activated yet, but as he returned to consciousness and kept
failing at bringing his dick back to where it should be, more out of habit than anything else, the
more he realized that he… couldn’t. Somehow, despite what he was seeing being exactly what
he wanted to happen, the sudden realization that he couldn’t just freely turn back around like he
believed he would be able to was a far more terrifying realization than he ever thought it could
be, and it didn’t take long before Ark was in full panic mode.

Not that he could do much with those anchors attached to him. A couple of minutes of frantic
flailing were all that he needed to get that excess restless energy out of him, after which Ark
found himself unable to do much but lie there with his arms and legs outstretched and his breath
slowing back down to normal. He was stuck, at least as long as his nuts were that big, and
judging by the fact that they were already bigger than they had been when he woke up just
minutes prior, he’d probably be breaking free of his bedroom before the day was out… and as
much as that left him feeling almost shamefully aroused, how was he supposed to deal with the
challenge then? There ​was​ a solution, albeit one that he didn’t particularly enjoy thinking about;
his body being the temple that it was, any alteration to its structure was only undertaken with the
utmost of care (or whenever he was so horny he couldn’t think straight), so doing it for the sake
of creating a stopgap was, to put it lightly, less than appealing. On the other hand… he was
stuck. So it was either do something about it or call someone to help him move around, and the
latter option didn’t solve the underlying issue at all.

Ark sighed, rubbing his eyes with both hands as he slowly worked himself up to do what had
to be done. It was yet another “feature” of his unique and warped biology that he could “adjust”
the size and overall fullness of his cumtanks by reabsorbing some of their contents directly into
him, not unlike what happened to those who he happened to bless with a full filling, just…
internally, and towards himself. He loathed to call it what it was, but he couldn’t deny that,
whenever he indulged that particular kink, anyone who happened to be next to him completely
lost their minds; now though, stuck in a bedroom and pinned down by his own sack, it sort of
lost its grandeur and lustre, becoming little more than an engineering solution to a structural
problem. Nonetheless, he snapped his fingers and allowed his body to perform the exchange, and
almost immediately he felt the pressure abate; his balls began to shrink inwards, their contents
reprocessed and forced upwards towards somewhere else entirely, his cock’s mass similarly
being cannibalized to make the beast go back down to where it should be. Simultaneously, that
already-enormous, rotund ass of his was made even fatter, all the extra weight being redirected
towards both his asscheeks and colossal thunder thighs, making for an even more bottom-heavy
figure than the one he sported normally. He kept doing this until he figured his nuts were at
about the same size they had been before he went to bed the night before, a process that took too
long, felt too good, and left him… large. Quite large. So large, in fact, that when he got up and
hauled his fat ass over to the bathroom so he could see how much bigger he was, he got stuck in
the door.

It hadn’t been like every other time, where he deliberately made a show of not being able to
fit while heaving one cheek at a time, when in reality it was more of a put-upon than anything
else; no, he was ​genuinely​ stuck on the doorframe, to the point where he could wiggle his feet in
midair and not go anywhere.

“Figures…” he mumbled, sighing in exasperation, “Why today?!”

Complaining wasn’t going to get him anywhere, so Ark spent the following ten or so minutes
wriggling himself out of this newest bind, ending up popping free from the frame with enough
force to land flat on his front, the fall mercifully broken by his still-turgid morning wood, which
brought with it its very own issues. The lynx was going to have to remove the cockring, that
much was certain, but judging from the noises that thing was making, there was probably going
to be a whole lot of spillage for him to take care of when he did, and the last thing on his mind
was having to spend his vacation days scraping cum off the walls. Wincing in pain from the
constant throbbing, Ark wobbled his way over to the bathroom, taking extra care to try and get in
as sideways as possible to prevent getting stuck again, leaning in just enough to grab a box of
condoms he kept by the door; these were plus-sized ones, built especially for hypers like him,
and though he very rarely got to use them, he had the feeling he’d be going through most of his
stock before the day was out.

The short trip to the living room was like a waking nightmare, not only due to the extra mass
on his ass making it difficult to walk until he got used to his new balance, but also thanks to his
nuts still being so immensely swollen and stuffed that he could barely move at all without feeling
them bump against his legs, jolts of electricity flying up his spine and making it nearly
impossible to focus on anything. The lynx was on auto-pilot, almost forgetting to adjust his entry
and very nearly getting stuck again as a result, but somehow did manage to find his way to the
couch, only to break multiple springs when he collapsed onto it without slowing down his
descent. In any other circumstance, he might’ve actually cared; considering what was going on
with his body though, it was a wonder he even noticed at all.

With the cockring still on, Ark picked up one of the condoms and stretched his arms out to
get it over his tip. It took a significant amount of effort to even place it to begin with, and the
simple act of pulling it down wasn’t any better; five minutes he spent covering as much of his
shaft as he could with that rubber balloon, and even then he still had a good foot of cockmeat left
between his base and the end of that thing. It’d have to do though; with a grimace, Ark slowly
reached out to the ring holding him back, pressed tightly on two buttons placed on either side of
it, and almost immediately afterwards he nearly had his hands fly off when both halves of the
metallic restraint were jettisoned in opposite directions, one of them embedding itself into a wall,
the other flying out of the window along with a shower of shards. Before Ark could react to this,
however, his body took over and forced him to pay attention to what was going on directly in
front of him: despite his best efforts to reabsorb some of his backed-up production, there was still
so much left inside of him that, even without any sort of help, the condom he had on was already
about as big as his whole body (sans package) by the time his brain processed what was going
on. By the time his hands were frantically trying to take it off while grabbing another one, that
cum balloon was approaching the ground at a dangerous pace, quickly enough that it looked like
it was ready to pop at any moment; the liquids inside churned and sloshed loudly, the plastic
creaking slightly as it struggled with withstand the deluge being poured into it. Worse still, no
matter how much it was filled, his nuts seemed content with clenching and pouring out even
more, even faster, until the lynx’s shaft was being pulled down to an horizontal position just
from the weight of the condom.

It wasn’t at all surprising that, just a few seconds later, his tip slipped out from the rubber
covering and began spraying the whole living room; it was the last thing Ark wanted, but given
the sort of body he’d been given, and the kind of dumb decisions he had made in the last
twenty-four hours, he had no one to blame but himself. In a blind panic, he reached forward to
try and contain the flow, opening a second condom as widely as possible and throwing it over the
pressurized hose of spunk that was his rod, hoping to buy enough time to get a third one ready…
and potentially tie the first one in a knot so it would stop spilling everywhere. Luckily, the first
spurt had clearly been the strongest one, and though the flow didn’t abate all ​that​ much, its
strength faltered just enough to give Ark the time he needed to prepare for the next exchange. He
still had to contend with his sparkling clean living room being turned into a movie set for some
sort of fantastical porn flick, but at least he could get the worst of it inside those extra-strength
condoms; he even had enough time to make sure their ends were closed up and tied up, allowing
him to shove them off to the side and letting them slide over on the cum coating the ground.

This process repeated itself throughout the rest of the day, owing to his apparent inability to
tell his nuts to just ​stop​ producing altogether; if Ark weren’t busy containing and bagging the
flood, he might’ve had the time to worry about losing control over his own body, as well as the
implications of this going forward. Instead, his mind was focused entirely on swapping out the
used condoms for fresh ones, tying the previous one in a knot and then readying up the following
one, his one saving grace being that, slow a process as it may be, his output ​was​ slowing down,
and ​would​ eventually peter out into nothing. It still took him until dinnertime, by which point
there was a stack of cum-filled plastic balloons precariously perched on one another that was
taller than he was, Ark’s own arms and legs being so exhausted from overuse that he couldn’t
even get up from the couch; poor thing was forced to sit there and breathe in the musk-heavy
atmosphere, gasping for said breath at times whenever the pressure rose more than the usual.

Things stabilized for some time, though Ark dared not get up from his seat and do anything
that might threaten the structural stability of that poor, battered couch; even slightly shifting his
weight was enough to get it to creak ominously, and he was certain that doing anything more
would make it collapse completely. Then again, he wasn’t about to sit there and stew in his own
juices; he had just lost a whole day and was ​covered​ in spunk, so what he really needed was to
go have a shower, fix himself a big dinner, then head immediately to bed afterwards in order to
deal with that raging headache he could feel mounting behind his eyes. Worse still, the problem
hadn’t gone away; as much as the flow of cum had abated somewhat, it was still there, it was still
going, he couldn’t make it stop… and it was getting stronger yet again. The lynx could only
grunt in annoyance, knowing that this was all his fault, yet still unable to put a brake to it and call
it all off; he was certain that, with some effort, he could wrangle his body back into control, but
for some reason there was a part of him that insisted he keep going despite every indication that
he shouldn’t, a part of him that demanded he keep pushing his limits, thirsty and hungry and
gluttonous for every extra inch that he could add onto himself. It was madness, yet he ​wanted​ it,
a dangerous sentiment that even Ark knew better than to indulge in… and yet it was getting
harder to ignore by the minute.

He sighed, forcing himself to get back up on his feet and almost slipping on the spunk
covering the ground. Gingerly, the lynx made his way back to the bathroom and entered it
properly, spending some time figuring out the best way to stuff himself into the shower that
wouldn’t make it impossible for him to leave, then… peace. The warmth of running water
coursing through his fur, falling off from his shoulders and weighing down heavily on him. The
rising steam getting rid of the scents and smells of his release. His muscles relaxing, his hunger
abating. For a few minutes, Ark could truly ignore the aching need building up inside of him, and
though that might’ve given him some measure of relaxation, it didn’t make the problem go away;
if anything, it had merely made it worse, for now the lynx was stuck inside of his shower with no
way of getting out, courtesy of his nuts becoming stuck inside of it and him not having the
wiggle room required to dislodge them… at least not without breaking the shower panels,
something he had no intention of doing whatsoever.

It made for a not-so-wonderful contrast with what had happened earlier that morning, and
especially with the sense of calm that had permeated his body just moments before; it was truly
amazing how easy it was for his mood to just flip that easily, though he doubted anyone would
really blame him, considering the sorts of tricks his body was playing on him. Stuck in the
shower, unable to move anywhere, and the only way to remedy that was to trade one thing being
stuck for another; he looked back, sinking both hands into a single asscheek, having to bite his
lip at how they vanished up to the wrist and still barely covered a significant portion of it. There
was no way he was going to add more mass onto that rear without it making it impossible to
leave the bathroom, but there were no other… well, there was… but certainly…

… he sighed. There ​was​ one way out of it, though not one that he relished. He had gone so
long without having to use it, and yet now it seemed like this was the end of the line for his
finely crafted and perfectly sculpted body, for much like he could reprocess some of his pent-up
spunk into more delectably hand-filling pudge, so too could he move his insane levels of
production somewhere else entirely: that flat chest of his. He didn’t want to do it; not that he
wouldn’t love the opportunity to swing around a pair of milky udders, but he ​did​ have an image
he liked to curate carefully, and suddenly developing tits would be slightly prejudicial to it. Then
again, there wasn’t much else he could do there, given that he was stuck between a rock and a
very literally hard place; whatever happened next, there was only one way out, and with yet
another sigh and both hands rubbing his temple, Ark went to work.

Substituting one method of fluid build-up for another was far more complex than simple
mass transfer, and he had to contend with his own needs and desires as well; to substitute what
was happening downstairs with another disaster area upstairs was to admit that the challenge was
over and he was turning back, licking his wounds, and dealing with the losses. As much as he
despised that notion, it was pretty clear that he wouldn’t be able to last a week, much less a
whole month, without imposing some level of control over his body; he’d probably have to call
in to work to let them know he’d be back sooner than expected. With a deep breath, the lynx felt
the tightness abate, the flow of fluids slowing down and seemingly filling him upwards,
bypassing his entire body and settling firmly on his hitherto-flat torso; there, his nipples
immediately engorged, swelling outwards and seemingly dragging two large patches of skin with
them. These would swell up quickly enough to be easily identifiable as a pair of supple, soft
breasts, quickly turning not-so-soft as they began to fill up with milk at a fast enough pace that,
within a minute of their appearance, they were already leaking thick, heavy, warm cream through
Ark’s fingers. The process continued for as long as it was needed to divert the extra production
rate from his nuts, reaching a sort of equilibrium between the two pairs of assets before the lynx
cut off the transfer and collapsed backwards, sliding gently down the wall.

They were… bigger than anticipated. Big enough to cover most of his chest and ache madly
whenever he breathed in, swelling slowly with their milky bounty and threatening to spill over
from his lap just as much as his balls had spilled over from everything else. Ark couldn’t help
but wonder if he hadn’t just made his situation worse; sure, his nuts weren’t as ridiculously
hyperactive as before, but now he had two things to worry about instead of one, and he seemed
unable to control them properly still. Some measure of restraint was possible, but the lynx could
tell that things weren’t over; he was still due for a lot of leaking and painting of walls before he
got anywhere close to being done, and what with it being nighttime…

He got out of the bath, treading carefully through the cum-soaked hallway towards his
bedroom, making sure not to get his enormous ass stuck in the doorway again. Next to his bed,
inside one of his drawers, was a roll of black electrical tape, to be used for ​special​ occasions
whenever his very special other showed up and the two wanted to have some fun; for the first
time in his life, Ark was going to use it on himself. He winced at the prospect, winced even more
when applying two double-layered crosses on each of his nips, doubly so once he felt the
pressure build up ever faster once the flow was blocked completely. The thought of hunger or
dinner had passed from his mind, replaced with the urgent need to just go to sleep and forget
about any of that day having happened; in his magical realm of nonsense, if he simply waited,
then things would go back to normal. By the third day, he’d be able to control his productivity
and then it was just a matter of milking himself down to flat again and draining his cock and
balls until they returned to their old, perfectly regular size… plus some exercise for that ass, of
course.

He closed his eyes, believing himself to be in the right.

The mattress wouldn’t last the night.