No Comments

I write this account as a word of warning. Though it sounds implausible - I would not have believed it had it not happened to me - I assure you that every word is true.

-- Month One --

One night, a little over a year ago, I was occupying myself after work with my usual hobby - I say hobby, more like "obsession," or "addiction," - of scouring the internet for new images and stories related to my vast list of varied and often contradictory fetishes. These fetishes included, but were not limited to breast expansion, ass expansion, sex change, futanari, inflation, female muscle growth, weight gain/ssbbw, female dick growth, multiple breasts, pussy growth, mini-giantess/height growth, shortstack/shrinking, hyper pregnancy, and so on. By "scouring the internet" I meant searching every archive and art website I could for content I hadn't viewed yet. I visited The Overflowing Bra, DeviantArt, Reddit, 4Chan, Rule34, Literotica, e-hentai, nhentai, and probably some others I can't remember. I did the same thing almost every day, sometimes for hours each day.

Like I said, it was an obsession.

On one of these sites, I came across an odd story. The title was "No Comments." When I clicked on it, I was greeted with the following text:

"All right, you ungrateful perverts, I've had it. Enough is enough. Week after week I pour my heart into my smut stories just to give you some whacking-off material, and maybe one in a thousand of you is grateful enough to leave a comment. It takes me hours to craft a single story, and I don't receive any payment for it. Not one cent. The only reward I get is when one of you perverts comments to tell me that you liked it. When one of you tells me what you liked about it, call that an extra tip. But 99.9% of you greedy, horny beggars consume and give nothing in return. It would take you less than a minute to say 'I really liked the part where she came just from feeling her oversized labia dragging across the carpet,' or 'I thought it was hilarious when her boyfriend tripped over her boobs and landed face-first in her ass,' but I guess it's hard to type when you've got one hand clawed around your dick, or your fingers shoved so far up your pussy you can feel your womb. Well, I've had it. I'm sick and tired of you freeloaders getting away with consuming everything and giving nothing. So I curse you. That's right, just by reading this story, you're now cursed! Every time you jack off or flick the bean to a story, drawing, choose-your-own-adventure, ai-generated image, comic, cosplay, etc. for the rest of your life without commenting, your body will change to be like the thing that turned you on the most about that image. Whack it to some huge boobs? You're growing huge boobs. Spank the monkey to a catgirl? Hope you like pointy ears and a tail. Finger yourself to some shortstack porn? Good luck, midget. The only way to stop and reverse the changes will be to comment on everything you masturbated to. You need to show the creators how much you appreciate their work. Hope you're diligent or have a good memory. So long, you freeloading perverts. Have a good life."

And that was it. No story, just an angry rant about cursing the reader. I thought the concept would make a good story, and I probably would have jacked it to a story about someone reading that curse and their body changing, but this was too short to even get stiff to.

It did spark my guilt, a bit. I tried to comment on the next few pictures I liked, but soon I forgot all about it in my haze of arousal. I'm not even sure what I masturbated to that night.

So time passed. I probably would have figured it out sooner, but the curse was slow, and subtle. My first sign that something was off was about a week later. I got out of the shower to shave, only to realize that I had no stubble. This was very odd, because I'd been capable of growing a full beard for almost twenty years by that point. I decided to keep a watch on it, but I was running late for work. Over the next week, I was feeling good about myself because I was setting personal bests in all my morning runs. The 5k that used to take me about 28 minutes now took me only 24 minutes. Where I was only doing a max of 30 push-ups, I was now topping at over 50! I attributed it to my new protein powder. My waist trimmed up, and I had a six-pack for the first time in a decade!

However, I also noticed that my nipples were getting sore during my run. I assumed that it was because I was running faster. After my shower, I went to rub Vaseline on them, and noticed that my chest felt soft and puffy. I wondered if I was growing moobs, but that didn't make sense. I had lost the fat around my waist, so why would I grow it in my chest?

Over the previous week, my pants had grown exceedingly tight as well. At first I thought I had put some extra muscle on around my thighs and felt good about it. Then I noticed that my cuffs weren't reaching my shoes. I grabbed a tape measure and found that I had grown two whole inches! I was now 5' 10", a height I had always envied.

There were a host of other changes as well. My hair had grown long enough for another haircut, even though I'd just had it trimmed. The hair near the scalp was more reddish than my normal brown. Not only had my facial hair not grown in over a week, but my body hair was falling out, too.

And probably strangest of all, but during my nightly porn sessions, my dick had grown larger. It had always been about 6" erect, but now was closer to 8". The height was one thing. People grew. But dicks didn't just grow longer, no matter what the late-night pill ads said.

I scheduled an appointment with my doctor. Because it wasn't an emergency, the nearest appointment wasn't for two weeks. The health care in this country sucks.

Over the next two weeks, I continued to change. My muscles continued to grow, and so did my height. And my dick. I had no hair anywhere except my head, and that was now silky smooth and down to my chin. The new hair was not my usual curly brown, but straight and almost blood red. My chest continued to swell until I could no longer deny it: I had tits. At least they were nice tits. My hips expanded until I could no longer fit in any of my pants. I had to wear sweat pants or exercise shorts everywhere. My brown eyes had shifted in color to hazel. My skin wasn't very dark before, but it was getting lighter in color. My jawline thinned and my voice rose almost an octave.

-- Month two --

When I walked into the doctor's office almost a month after reading the curse (which I had forgotten about), I no longer matched the information listed on my driver's license. I no longer resembled a 5' 8" man with short brown hair, I now looked like a 6' tall woman with short red hair. Or I would have, if it weren't for my 10" dick. The staff didn't even believe I was who I said I was. I had to jump through a bunch of hoops to prove my identity. Fortunately, I had been taking full-body photos for the past couple of weeks since I noticed my appearance was changing.

I explained everything to the doctor and even showed him the photos of my progress. He was as confused as I was and ordered some blood tests to see if it was hormonal or something else.

The next day, while I was jacking off, I noticed a tingling coming from behind my scrotum that demanded attention. I then felt my new pussy for the first time. I freaked out. I was looking more like a sexy woman every day, and now, I was growing a pussy! I would have thought I was becoming a girl completely if it weren't for my dick, which was still growing bigger by the day.

I waited in vain for the test results, which came back negative. No strange hormones.

I sat down and cried. My life was ruined. My body was changing every day, and we had no idea why or how to stop it.

To calm down, I spent the next four hours jacking off. I tried rubbing my pussy and found it sensitive as well. So were my nipples. Deep into my masturbatory haze, I ordered a vibrator.

The next morning, as I looked in the mirror after my shower, I took a good look at myself and realized that I looked hot. In fact, I realized just how many of my fetishes I matched. Height growth, muscle growth, breast growth, ass growth, futanari, dick growth. I suddenly realized that this wasn't a medical problem, I was cursed! I was changing based on what I had masturbated to. And it had all started when I read that story, what was it called? Oh yeah, "No Comments."

The realization dawned on me with horror. How many stories and pictures had I masturbated to in the last month? I spent at least an hour a day on it, and since I'd gone on sick leave two weeks ago, I'd been masturbating upwards of six hours a day! There had to be thousands of pieces of art that I'd used and not commented on. And all of them were changing me.

I quit my job. There was no way I was going to go back in looking like a conglomeration of my wildest wet dreams. This would also give me all the time I needed to track down all the pictures and stories that were changing me. It was tedious work. Also frustrating. I couldn't possibly remember everything I had masturbated to in the last month.

To make matters worse, I was hornier than ever. That's what happens when you whack it to stories of women who are hornier than in reality. It didn't help that in order to comment on porn, I was looking at porn all day every day. While I was awake, I could barely make it an hour before I was too erect and aroused to think about anything but jacking it. I kept a record of porn I had already commented on and felt safe masturbating to. Not that I usually needed to bother; I was becoming so much my own fantasy that I only needed to look in the mirror and I could get off my own reflection.

I thanked the stars I wasn't into bimboism, or I might have found myself growing dumber.

So I set to work, writing comments on everything that I possibly could have masturbated to, and I watched myself change.

I also tried to find the curse, but porn sites have terrible search functions, and "No Comments" is an extremely common string to search for.

A week later, I realized that the strange dark spots on my torso were not moles that I needed to see the dermatologist about, but nipples! I counted eight of them, meaning that if they turned into breasts, I was going to have a total of ten enormous tits. I wondered if they would grow at the same rate as my top pair and therefore stay smaller, but where the top pair was growing at a rate of one inch a week (cup size), the lower pairs grew at a rate of two inches a week until they caught up. By the end of my second month of changes, they had caught up to the top pair and I had five pairs of H-cup breasts.

It seemed that whoever had cast this curse liked to do things at a rate of one inch a week. I was growing taller, my hair was growing longer, my dick was growing longer, and my chest and hip measurements were increasing all at a rate of one inch a week. Unless something needed to catch up to something else, then it grew at a rate of two inches a week, like my extra breasts.

Fortunately, for my sake, my muscles were growing at the rate that my bicep measurement increased by an inch a week. I needed the help with mobility because all my breasts were getting heavy.

During that second month, in addition to the extra breasts, some of the stranger changes started to manifest themselves. Each week that month, a bump appeared on my pelvis next to my penis, and over the coming weeks formed into a new penis with a new scrotum. My crotch was already getting crowded, but my pussy decided to get in on the action by swelling up as well. When I masturbated to it, I found my labia getting puffier and puffier and hanging down further and further between my legs - at a rate of one inch a week. I had no clitoris that I could find, but my collection of dicks probably counted for that.

My pores and scars all cleared, making my skin perfectly clear and smooth. It continued to lighten until I was as pale as alabaster. My lips thickened and darkened until they were coal black. My eyes changed color until they were as blood red as my hair. I guessed that making my hair blood red was how the curse balanced my love for goth girls with my love for redheads.

One day while looking in the mirror I said "I look like a fucking vampire." It was true.

Two months into my transformation I had: ten H-cup breasts, one 15-inch penis, four smaller penises ranging from 2 inches to 8 inches, five scrotums with a total of ten testicles, a pussy with four-inch lips, 11 inch-long hair that was blood red with brown tips, and pale skin with red eyes and black lips. I was also 6' 7" tall with widening hips and muscles like a bodybuilder.

-- Month Three --

Sometime during the first week of the third month, pressure built up in my breasts until they began to lactate. Because of course they did. I expressed my nipples by hand for the first day, but I ordered five breast pumps for same-day delivery. As it turned out, my nipples were sensitive. Milking was enough to bring me to orgasm, with semen spurting out of all my cocks at once.

My nipples grew an inch a week, too. By the end of the third month, the nipples on my ten L-cup breasts were four inches long. When they grew too long to fit in the breast pumps, I went back to expressing them by hand. That took more time than I wanted, so I ordered an industrial milker. That solved the problem.

Unfortunately, that used up the last of my savings. I needed cash, but I couldn't go out in public; I was a freak. A sexy freak, but a freak nonetheless.

For the first time, I decided to make the curse work for me. I considered starting an OnlyFans, but I wasn't comfortable showing off my body. And would anyone even be interested in a woman with this many breasts? Maybe a few people would be interested, but I needed a wider audience for the most cash. Fortunately, I had the goth look down. Besides the hair, skin, and eyes that I previously mentioned, over the past few weeks, my eyelashes had grown longer and darker, and perfectly drawn eyeliner had appeared over my eyes. And that wasn't all; my personality had changed: I had become more dominant. Besides the multiple breasts and the huge dicks, I had become, in height, appearance, and personality, a dommy mommy goth girl.

All I had to do was angle the camera right. All I showed was my face and half a foot of cleavage of my top breasts, and no one could tell the difference.

I started streaming and instantly gained an audience. While I played games I would talk to my watchers. I answered their questions like the dommy mommy goth I had become, and they ate it up. Donations started pouring in from my new army of simps.

As it turns out, there's not enough room on one torso for ten L-cup breasts. The second and fourth rows stuck out to the side so my torso was arranged something like this:

O O

O O

O O

O O

O O

except more squished together.

-- Month Four --

In my fourth month, I hit a breakthrough. I had found and commented on one of the stories that had given me so many penises. Three of my dicks shrank and disappeared in one week. That left me with one 24" dick with testicles the size of softballs, and one 18" dick that was catching up. Not perfect, but it was progress.

-- Month Five --

In the fifth month, I found the illustration that had given me ten breasts. The bottom two pairs started to shrink and also disappeared in a week. I still had six R-cup breasts with nipples that rivaled a cow's udders, but I was so relieved by the improvement I cried.

-- Month Six --

In the last five months, I had grown a lot of muscle, which had made moving around easier with my six huge tits and my ass which stuck out over a foot behind me. However, I was never into hyper muscle. I never grew as big as Schwarzenegger, which was both good and bad for me. Good, because I never lost too much flexibility, and bad, because these tits were starting to get really heavy. Even with my huge muscles, 500 pounds was a lot of tit to carry around. Besides, I was also 7' 7" tall. Human spines were not meant to be that long, nor bear that much weight. My back was in constant pain, especially when I stood to walk.

Not that I did much walking. Besides my two huge cocks, I had four testicles almost as big as softballs, and my pussy had swollen to the size of a basketball. It was impossible to put my legs together. I could waddle around the house, but that alone made me come.

If I was going to bear this much weight, I needed become stronger, but I didn't want my muscles to grow so big that I became immobile from that alone. I wondered if I could use the curse to fix the problems caused by the curse.

I had been considering a hypothesis. Thinking back, I hadn't always had all the fetishes I did now. The pregnancy fetish came first, then the breast fetish. Later on I discovered multiple breasts, futa, giantess, etc. I began to wonder if fetishes could be learned and developed.

I looked up some Supergirl erotic fan fiction. Particularly stories that focused on her strength in sexy situations. I focused not on her muscles, but the strength itself. I tried to convince myself of how sexy that much strength would be. It wasn't hard to cum to that. I was on edge all the time anyway.

It worked. Within a week, my tits felt lighter! I knew they were still growing in size, and my muscles hadn't gotten any bigger, but I had grown stronger. I had bought myself time before I became immobile.

-- Month Seven --

In the seventh month, I found a group online of people who had been cursed like me. They had all been cursed in different ways. Some were furrys, some had huge breasts, some had become futanaris, some had height changes. I felt really bad for the people who were less than two feet tall and still shrinking, and for those who had become ditzy bimbos who could barely think beyond wanting sex. As far as I could tell, I had the most and varied changes out of anyone. Lucky me.

At this time, six months of changes had made me 7' 11" tall, my six breasts were ZZ-cups, my hips were 26" wide, I had two 33" dicks that slapped against my knees when I walked, and my blood red hair hung down to my hips. Fortunately, my labia had stopped growing when they reached my knees.

The support group shared insights on the curse, how it worked, and how to overcome its effects.

It was there that I found two pieces of information that filled me with horror.

The second was the original text of the curse. No one was able to find the original posting, but someone had copied it and posted it to the group's wiki. While reading it, and the commentary, I realized I had made a tactical error. If you're reading this, you probably realized my mistake already. That's easy to do when you've just read the curse text and then read my actions a few minutes later. But remember, I hadn't realized I was cursed until a month after I had read it. I thought the curse triggered for every piece of art I masturbated to without commenting. Nope. It triggered every time I masturbated without commenting! So if I masturbated to something more than once, I had to comment each time I masturbated. I thought back to stories that I had masturbated to multiple times during one reading. Stories I had re-read and masturbated to. I thought of my entire list of stories I had labeled "safe to masturbate to" because I had already commented on them. How many times did I need to comment on them to lift the curse now? I had no idea.

That made my curse many times more difficult to lift, but still not impossible. I just had to make multiple accounts on some sites and comment multiple times until the curse was lifted.

The second clue I found was worse, though. Some members of the group had discovered through experimentation that you needed to comment on the original posting of the work. The original author of the work needed to know how you appreciated it. Reposts and pirating sites didn't count. That meant that every comic and image I jacked off to and commented on that had been uploaded without the author's permission to sites like e-hentai, nhentai, Reddit, and 4chan didn't count. I needed to find the original creators and comment on their original posting.