Jinko - A Bad Day

A Bad Day. That’s what your jinko wife had called it when you were talking to her on the phone, 5 minutes ago. A Bad Day. Not a terrible day, fortunately, but still a bad day. You dutifully went to your closet to get your padded gear on. You and your wife had agreed to get this after a few too many bruisings and cracked bones when she had A Bad Day.

While you felt silly needing this special clothing – what resembled a football uniform without the helmet stuffed to the point of bursting with layers and layers of soft padding, ensuring even heavy impacts from your wife wouldn’t leave you injured – you really had no one but yourself to blame. Yes, in the end your wife had the final say in whether she would take the experimental cocktail with essence of oni, ogre, and dragon mixed in minotaur milk, but you were the one that had found out it existed, proposed the idea of her taking it, and assuaged her doubts about doing so. Now, your wife had already been a fine specimen of jinko; toned abs that resembled rocks under a fleshy blanket, big biceps that bulged when she would work out, thick thighs with faint outlines of the strong muscles underneath, and a nice sized butt with firm muscle underneath the smoothing layer of fat. If she were ranked against other jinkos, onis, and other such finely tailored monster girls whose attraction was their physical power, she would have easily ranked an 8 or 9 out of 10. However, after taking the concoction, she would have blown the top off of that 10/10 scale and had to set her own scale, with the only monsters able to match her in sheer strength being dragons and baphomets, and even then they would probably have to work out to match her.

Her appearance, though, was unrivaled as far as you knew. What had once been a “heavy” frame on her now might as well have been a willow in the wind; her new form went so far past intimidating she was downright terrifying. Her rock-like abs had become full-blown boulders of shear power, cut and bulging out of her middle so far you could fit your finger in there to the second knuckle without her even flexing (you would know, you checked). Her biceps had exploded so far past large that she had redefined the meaning of “large biceps”; hers were the standard that all biceps would be measured by, and when they flexed they were larger around then your torso, bristling and bursting with so much power it would be easier to find things that she couldn’t lift, rip, tear, or otherwise manipulate with them than things she could. Her chest, which had consisted of modestly sized breasts on a firm base of strong pectoral muscle, had swollen to epic proportions. Not only had her pecs swollen to the breaking point with raw power, her breasts, likely thanks to the minotaur milk itself, had expanded to what would be ridiculous proportion on anyone else, but on her monstrous body they looked strangely fitting. Her thighs had bust open the pants she was wearing when she took the muscle milk, and had kept growing larger and larger until only a large tree would have been wider than they were. And her butt, your favorite part of her, had bloated to the point that she needed extra wide chairs to fit in comfortably. At least, in theory she would; the most likely result of her attempting to fit her ponderous posterior in a chair too small to fit it was the chair yielding and breaking to her bountiful behind, for while it was still smooth and pleasing to the eye, underneath the fat was more densely-packed muscle than any regular human had in their entire body.

While she had agreed to this, and you wanted it, and yes, you were pleased with her current form, one thing neither of you had considered was the reactions of other people. While you had both expected that some people would find her new form unattractive, you had both figured that if anyone did, they wouldn’t be smart enough to do it within earshot, and even if they did neither of you really cared. What you hadn’t anticipated was the fear people displayed around your wife. People would avoid eye contact even while directly talking to her; when she moved, they would involuntarily flinch away; some people involuntarily shivered and shook in her mere presence. One time she had set all the children on the train home crying and wailing in fear of her, their parents covering their eyes as the parents, voices quavering in their own fear, politely asked her to move to another car. That has been A Terrible Day, and your body still remembered the soreness from that night when she got home. You didn’t know what caused today to be A Bad Day specifically, but you guessed it was something along those same lines.

Just as you were grabbing the last piece of padded gear from the closet, you felt the ground shake a bit. Uh oh… that meant it might be even worse than A Bad Day. It meant your wife was walking up to the house, and that she was so dejected she wasn’t paying attention to anything but getting in and being with you. Her physical power was such that if she didn’t walk with a certain amount of finesse, she would easily cause minor tremors and crack concrete with her footsteps. Normally, she didn’t even need to think about it to avoid that, but on especially bad days…

You jammed on the last piece of protective gear and rushed downstairs, getting knocked off balance once or twice as the house shook with your wife’s footsteps. You had forgotten to unlock the door her and…

Just as you rounded the corner to the living room, you heard the tortured squeal of metal being deformed. That meant your wife was at the door and had forgotten to unlock it before trying to open it. As the squeal continued you hear the sudden snap of the locking mechanism breaking under the terrible pressure put on it. You saw the doorknob on your side of the door fall uselessly to the ground and the door move open, crunching hard into the doorstop and probably mangling it a little. Outside, you saw your wife’s frame, clad in a brisk business suit that looked like it would explode from all the cat it was trying to cover, block the outside world as she was both wider and taller than the opening.

“Oops…” she muttered listlessly as she ducked and turned sidewise to enter the house. Another snap sounded out as she accidently hit the door frame with her shoulder and broke it. Crouched down, her fluffy tiger ears still touching the top of the frame as her back and breasts brushed against opposite sides of it, she squeezed in and stood up to her towering 9 foot height. She had also grown significantly taller as a result of the concoction.

“Anon…” She muttered, again listlessly. Not saying a word, you walked up to your wife and embraced her, your head pressed against her lower torso, your cheek feeling one of the solid bricks of her abs while your arms wrapped around her thighs, unable to touch together behind her. You stood there for a minute, enjoying each other’s presence, before she gently unwrapped your arms from her legs and placed an enormous paw underneath your butt, lifting you up to her face level and embracing you. While you felt the air leave your lungs temporarily, thanks to the padding on your suit you knew that the light squeeze wouldn’t leave any lasting damage. Not bothering to close the broken, useless door behind her, your wife carried your to your bedroom, ducking and shuffling sidewise underneath the doorframe once again (without the sound of something breaking this time, to your relief) and practically fell backwards on to your reinforced bed, still cradling you in her arms.

Her thick, meaty forearms covering you from the middle of your thighs to the top of your back, your wife closed her eyes, still embracing you, and you heard her lightly begin to chuff. You squirmed around under her casual grip; she had you right where she wanted you, and you knew you’d been here for quite a while…