3 Scrubs and a Squid PART ONE

Behold Inkopolis, home to a bunch of freaky looking marine animals. One such freaky species are the Inklings, humanoid cephalopods that can transform between cartoony looking squids and bipedal human looking weirdos. The inklings all enjoy one thing in particular: war games! These war games, or “Turf Wars,” have young teenage inklings covering the battlefield and shooting the opposing team with their own ink. How disgusting.

 

But this tale focuses on an event known as “Candy Ass Scrubs” Day. A day when everything went horribly bizarre for a whole team (and another inkling) during a ranked Splat Zone match.

 

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It was a bright and sunny afternoon in Inkopolis. Seychelles was playing Squid Jump for the 4th hour straight, waiting for a ranked match to pop up for her to join. Seychelles was one of Inkopolis’s top inklings in Turf War and ranked matches. She was splatting opponents ever since her fourteenth birthday. Now, at the age of twenty-two (which is far beyond the age when inklings generally grow up and tire from splat battles), she was rocking a level 50 fresh vibe with an S+ rank that would make nearby inklings swoon. Still, being twenty-two and participating in a children’s sport made it rather hard for the inkling to get friends her age. Who’d want to hang out with a (wo)manchild? It would have to take something big to make her stop battling and finally grow up.

 

Speaking of growing up, Seychelles was still wearing the same clothes she bought a few years ago. They were a pair cherry kicks (for that stealth super jump), a white anchor tee (for that sneaky ninja squid ability), and a bike helmet (for that increased ink recovery). The clothes were starting to show their age, and size, as they were tight on Seychelles matured adult body. Her breasts pushed against the white t-shirt and her head was starting to get cramped in that tiny helmet. Still, the clothes gave her those fantastic abilities, so why should she change them? Seychelles, however, didn’t understand the jokes the younger boy inklings would make about her wearing a helmet all the time. Her parents kept urging her to at least switch out the helmet and shirt with something less tight.

 

Finally a match appeared for her to join. Without bothering to look at the names and ranks of her fellow teammates she was grouping with on the big informational screen, she hopped onto the tram taking her to the newest stage in Inkopolis, Moon Jelly Sweets Emporium. This stage is actually a candy factory that opened its production assembly for Turf War battles in hopes of advertising its brand name. After all, what kind of young inkling doesn’t love the smell of baked and melted candy while inking each other?

 

Seychelles looked around the passenger tram, seeing three other inklings next her. Perhaps they’re her teammates for the match? One was a male inkling who appeared to be in his late teens, probably nineteen. The other two looked a bit younger than him but still above 14 years of age. One was a girl and the other a boy. Given how similar they looked, they might be siblings.

 

Seychelles decided to break the proverbial ice.

 

“So, um, are you guys heading to a match?” Seychelles said, wondering if they’re her teammates.

 

“Yeah,” said the eldest looking inkling. “Aren’t you a little old to be battling, miss?” The inkling’s height, bustline, and tight clothes were a bit of a giveaway of her age.

 

Seychelles felt a little wounded and hastily gave a response. “YEAH?! WELL LOOK WHO’S TALKING! AND THE NAME’S SEYCHELLES!”

 

“I just occasionally do this to get those funbuck coins to buy clothes, ma’am,” he responded. “I think I’m level 12 or something. I don’t have a clue what rank I am.” Realizing that the slightly overaged inkling he called ma’am might be his teammate, he figured he should introduce himself. “Ah, and my name is Pitcairn.”

 

Oh boy, a low-tier scub with a weird name. Seychelles felt her squid heart sink into her squid gut. An S+ ranked squido like herself is gonna lose hard today.

 

“Level 12?” the other boy inkling butted in, interested by what Pitcairn said. “Me and my sis Caicos here just finally reached level 10 yesterday! We can’t wait to show off our freshness!” Caicos was busy scarfing down the complimentary salt water taffies the candy company supplied for visitors, participating in battle or just spectating, to give a reply.

 

Seychelles felt like lashing out. A top tier level 50 S+ squid (but no longer quite a) kid getting matched up with these newbies and a lazy dude shouldn’t be happening. If there was one thing Seychelles hated most, it was losing.

 

“Aw squit,” she muttered under her breath.

 

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The four squid squad finally arrived at Moon Jelly Sweets Emporium. Finally arriving at their lilac colored spawn point, Seychelles held tightly onto her E-liter 3k. She was determined to not let these newbies cost her a game. Before the round began, Seychelles noticed a tall male inkling on the opponents’ spawn point, possibly a year older than her. Memories came flooding back like an inkstrike. She remembered asking a guy in the same classes as her back in coralmunity college to go on a date with her. The boy inkling declined her invitation on the basis of how immature it is for an inkling past the age of 16 to still participate in Turf Wars. Seychelles still has trouble recovering from that comment.

 

“C’mon Seychelles! The match already started!” yelled Pitcairn, already nearing the midpoint with his Splatter Shot Jr. in hand.

 

This was the first of many mistakes for the now nicknamed “Team Squid Scrublords.”

 

When Pitcairn turned around, a yellow tentacle hair female inkling wearing pilot shades just finished charging up her Hydra Splattling right in front of him, hoping to surprise the ink out of him. It worked as Pitcairn fell onto his rump, startled by the giant gun. Just as he opened his mouth to let out a yelp, the opposing inkling let loose, unintentionally firing a storm of ink into his open mouth. Pitcairn had no choice but to swallow the inkoming ink. Oddly, instead of exploding into a shower of the enemy’s ink, Pitcairn felt his spats tighten against the underside of his belly. Now he felt really full. Now he felt… “Oh Squidgod, AM I GROWING BOOBS?” He was sort of right.

 

Pitcairn’s midsection was starting to bulge out quite a bit and the opposing inkling’s Hydra Splatting just kept on firing. Unknown to him, the female inkling modified her weapon to have a continuous fire. Yep, a damn, dirty cheater. She let go of the trigger after seeing Pitcairn bloat out, surprised by the results. Pitcairn looked like a puffy, fat teenage inkling; his shoulders puffed out, his arms becoming conical and difficult to bend, his hands ballooning with fat sausage like fingers, his flat chest now had big moobs resting on top of gargantuan belly now the size of a medicine ball, and his legs thickening up with the thighs squishing against each other. Although she couldn’t quite see it, his once cute small booty filled out into beach ball sized buttocks.

 

The female inkling felt a feeling of accomplishment, and a warm sensation. She kinda wanted to keep on going, see how big Pitcairn could get before he, well, y’know… exploded. Lucky for him, and her, these matches have respawn points. Pitcairn let out a slew of swears and confusions, bewildered by whatever the squid hell his opponent did to him. The female inkling merely chortled and gave a hard kick to his belly, squishing her feet a few inches in and sending him rolling on his backside. Pitcairn couldn’t muster the strength to stand back up or even point his weapon at the quirky (and possibly evil) girl. So instead he opened his mouth and shouted insults at her.

 

“You damn squitch, what the squid hell did you do to me!? I’ll squid fuck you up! I’ll squid fucking murder you, squido!” Pitcairn’s once calm demeanor back on the tram seemed to have disappeared outright.

 

And this was Pitcairn’s mistake of the match.

 

The opposing inkling knew he couldn’t do jackknife fish squit to her. Unimpressed by his insults, she jumped on top of Pitcairn’s bulging belly and said, “Oh, shut up.”

 

The female inkling charged up her Hydra Splating and let loose. It would’ve behooved Pitcairn to heed her advice and shut his mouth, but he was still screaming rude words at her. The consequence? Even more ink down his mouth hole. Pitcairn felt his body bulge out again. His backside rounded out as belly increased in size. His moobs grew into spheres as they were slowly flattening onto his chest. Soon his expanding limbs became dome like in shape and likewise flattened against body as he inflated from a five foot eleven inch tall inkling into an eleven foot round sphere of skin and ink. The only parts of him that disappear into his expanding body were his ballooned hands (which were now sunken a few inches into his skin), his feet (also sunken into him like his hands), his head (with cheeks bulging out and his ponytailed tentacle hair swollen with ink, creating a mismatch of his and the other team’s colors), his ass (which just grew into giant orbs), and his special place… which was still the same size as before. His clothes just barely stretched out to keep his squid nipples and willy from showing. They were digging hard into his skin though, especially his stretched out spats. They were so close to tearing.

 

Pitcairn couldn’t move. His weight and immense size left him stuck in place. His backside flattened out against the floor; he was essentially a giant Burst Bomb of an inkling. The female inkling jumped up and down on his tummy, creating waves of jiggles across his stomach. Pitcairn let out a grunt each time she landed.

 

The enemy female inkling quickly grew tired of using Pitcairn’s taut belly as a trampoline. She slid down Pitcairn’s lower regions, brushing down against his “hidden tentacle” along the way. Pitcairn’s face reddened and gave a quiet, inaudible moan. Seeing her Dynamo Roller wielding teammate running nearby, the devilish inkling beckoned her to come over and see her handiwork.

 

“Geez girl, what happened here?” said the inkling with the roller.

 

“This dude wouldn’t splat so I filled him with my ink.”

 

“Uh…”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

The Dynamo Roller wielding girl walked around the giant, spherical inkling, looking up and down at his fat-tacular body. She arrived at his head and looked at his face. Pitcairn stared right back at here, his face blushing and giving an angry pout. “Aww…” remarked the girl. Then, she too got a devilish idea.

 

“I’m gonna flatten you out!” she exclaimed, rubbing the ink off of her Dynamo Roller so that the giant ball of an inkling wouldn’t get splatted. Pitcairn braced for impact. Still, maybe he was too large for the roller to flatten him-

 

*Squish!*

 

Ok, maybe not. His ponytail was the first to be flattened. The ink in his squishy, now thin, hair moved down into his body, puffing his cheeks out to the point that they covered his face. The girl was still determined to see this through and kept on rolling. Pitcarin could feel his forehead scrunch up. His vision went temporally dark and the top of his head flattened out like a pancake. Although now dizzy, he could still make sense of what was happening. His belly bulged out a bit; he started to realize what was going on. As the inkling flattened the top portion of his orb like body, he felt the rest of him grow in size. His shirt finally tore from the bottom, but not all the way through since the top part of it flattened alongside with him. His spats were still holding on. Although, they felt tighter than a pair of skinny jeans on a thick woman’s hourglass figure. It especially felt tighter near… that… area…?

 

Oh, this is gonna get freaky.

 

As the inkling stood on top of his face, flattening him into a large, wide pancake, Pitcairn finally realized what was truly happening. The ink he swallowed wasn’t coming out of him so it had to go somewhere. That somewhere was his now expanding squid penis. What was once a four-inch willy at its hardest was now almost a foot in semi-flaccid length, and nine inches in diameter. Pitcarin couldn’t look at his expanding member so much as touch it, but he felt it growing. And it felt like he had to tinkle like the dickens. The pilot shades wearing inkling, standing aside on the ground watching her teammate’s handiwork noticed the expanding whatnot as well. She felt her nether regions heat up a bit. She was too entranced to say anything, not even a witty comment.

 

As the Dynamo Roller reached up to where the top part of his belly would be, Pitcairn heard a large ripping noise. Now he felt a cool breeze against his… oh. His expanding member tore through his spats, finally relieving him of one pain and giving him another: more embarrassment! The shade wearing inkling covered her mouth, her eyes wide open, cheeks turning red, and slight drool rolling down her chin. She’s never seen a boys “special place” up close before! “It must three feet long!” she thought to herself, trying to keep herself from swooning out loud. Yup, three feet long and now a foot in diameter. As the female inkling kept flattening him, too determined to notice what was going on down there, Pitcairn felt his willy grow longer, wider, tighter, and most definitely harder. Each roll caused his private part to shake and expand a little. Soon Pitcairn’s little buddy was a monstrous nine foot tall, two feet in diameter best friend. His family heirlooms also grew alongside with it, now the size of yoga exercise balls.

 

Pitcairn felt the pressure increase. He tried his best from reaching the largest climax in his virgin squid life. He was breathing hard and moaning like the first time he played with his willy. The girl in the shades was taking pictures of Pitcairn’s gigantic size, saving the images for her own personal use. She too was experiencing a sensation of her own, some ink traveling down the inside of her spats. The Dynamo Roller wielding girl finally looked up, wondering what the commotion was. She immediately saw the towering behemoth of man joy. Scared, but deeply “interested,” she touched the bottom of Pitcairn’s shaft with her roller, slightly pressing against the enormous manhood. He then let out an ear deafening scream.

 

“GEEEEEEEYAAAAH!”

 

He couldn’t hold it back anymore and let his whatnot erupt into a volcano of blue-green ink: a combination of his and the enemy team’s ink (which should come out as brown according to color scheme but that’s just disgusting). His ink managed to hit the top of the factory and rain down all across the stage. Pitcairn couldn’t stop gasping and moaning, it felt way too damn good. The roller wielding inkling took cover under Pitcairn’s flat blanket like body, peeking out to see his explosive climax. The shade wearing inkling, the one who started this mess, was now taking a video, hoping to make as many copies as she could. Her mouth was agape and eyes hypnotized by the event. She rubbed her own “special place,” moaning and thinking of what such a big, wonderful willy would feel like inside her.

 

This shower kept on going for a whole minute before Pitcairn’s willy deflated and lowered onto the ground, empty of ink. Despite being deflated, it was still a few feet long. Pitcairn knew he contributed nothing to the team this match, but he couldn’t give a fuck. He kinda wanted to sleep and do this all over again.

 

TO BE CONTINUED…